My View from the Front Porch: Lessons from 2020
12:54 PM
In 2014 I started a series called “My View from the Front Porch”. This is only the 5th installment! In the May 2015 installment, I reflected on my and Amber’s decision to put down roots in Springfield:
“The next stage is to find a particular region, a particular neighborhood, a particular community, a particular house or houses. We will find this when we find it.”
It feels like I could have written that sentence yesterday. Some of us are looking to move soon, and so the “particular region, particular neighborhood” conversation is underway.
We’d like to find a place in Springfield (preferably a street corner, but more probably a neighborhood, or group of contiguous neighborhoods) that works for everyone who is interested.
Spare Key needs a promised land that’s safe (i.e. fewer meth houses than West Central), comfortable, affordable, and mutually agreeable. Thereupon, those who are interested can take turns moving there whenever the time is right for them. It's always been a long term plan.
The future seems closer. As I look to the future, here are a few observations from the past and present.
Lessons from the Pandemic: Relationships matter most
Spare Key has existed in one form or another since 2012, and the truth is we are a community no matter how near or far apart we may be.
I miss everyone. Yet if there’s one thing the pandemic has taught us about community, it’s that we can continue to grow and nurture our relationships even when our cherished community practices such as the weekly common meal are disrupted.
Personally, my vision of community has fluctuated since 2012. For example, I used to be more concerned with the automobile-free lifestyle. Living within walking distance to downtown, work, and friends was important to me. But now the Howards are a two-car family. So. I can drive places.
Today I’m inspired by this quote from Mia Birdsong’s “How We Show Up: Reclaiming Family, Friendship, and Community.” (Shout out to Spare Key book club!) The quote hits on an idea that is a hallmark of community books:
“The search for answers to fix our broken experience of community has some people looking backward to the kind of sugar-borrowing and porch-sitting closeness they believe existed in the 1950s. But that was somewhat imaginary and it doesn’t work in the context of modern life. We need a vision of community that is relevant and future-facing. A vision that brings us closer to one another, allows us to be vulnerable and imperfect, to grieve and stumble, to be held accountable and loved deeply.”
When Birdsong writes about a “vision that brings us closer to one another,” she doesn’t just mean geographically. Birdsong’s book reminds me that community is ultimately about the people rather than the buildings.
Closeness is an important concept. It has a relational dimension and a geographic dimension. I personally hope we all move closer together, for sure! I’ve wanted that for a long time. But in the meantime, I also want to remember and celebrate why. It’s about sharing life together. It's such a wonderful thing to be in community with friends.
Lessons from West Central
So we see that geographic closeness is an important community value, and the motivation behind that value is to boost friendships and relationships. Relationships are the main thing.
For me, the answer to the question “how close is close enough?” has shifted throughout the years. I’m sure that’s true for many of us as our life situations change.
Community takes many forms, whether we’re living together in the same house, as some of us have done; or whether we’re living next door to each other, as others of us have done; or whether we’re living in walking distance, as yet others of us have done; or whether we’re in driving distance.
One of the things I love most about where Amber and I live presently is our closeness to Jonathan and Lauren. We’ve lived next to each other for several years. During that time, we’ve done a wonderful job putting our intentional community values into action. We borrow lawn mowers and tools. We share a trash and recycling bill. We firebowl and porch-sit. We’ve shared internet. We even share a Nintendo Switch!
Some of those things I just listed (lawn mower, recycling) require living in proximity. But many of them do not. For example, while the Howards and the Zacharies do our fair share of porch sitting, I don’t think we hang out on each other’s porches more or less than we would if we lived a little farther apart.
Consider other examples. Before the pandemic, Nathan and I played chess on the porch on Sundays. Sometimes Nate even biked, though he lives 2.5 miles north. And we like to firebowl at Heather’s, 3 miles south. Examples like this abound: We all have our habits of visiting, hanging out with, and checking in on each other, etc.
It’s true that it’s easier to hang out if we’re closer together. But my point is, whether we’re next door or a few miles apart, nothing has prevented us from our goals of hanging out and sharing life.
Bring on 2021!
We’re a community of adventurers seriously dedicated to mutual support. We want to live as close together with as many of us as we can, and we’re trying to take countercultural steps to make that happen in the long term. That conversation is ongoing.
In the meantime, most importantly, I have no doubt we’ll continue sharing life together and living our values in creative and beautiful ways, no matter where we live.
In the new year, what new community practices, routines, and habits do you think we should experiment with? I look forward to getting back into the groove of the weekly common meal when the pandemic calms down. And I’m pumped about the book club idea Bethany had.
Whatever 2021 has in store, I’m really grateful for Spare Key. I look forward to seeing what lessons the year will teach us.
Previous Views from the Front Porch:
0 comments