Four More Years! Four More Years!

We had a fun time today eating breakfast at BruCo and then drinking Founder's Breakfast Stout on the back porch and dreaming about what the next four years will look like. Stay tuned, everyone! And thanks for your continued support.

Spare Key just finished reading Jonathan Wilson-Hartgrove's The Wisdom of Stability which makes a case for staying in place and investing in a neighborhood. This is the second of two posts inspired by that book.

In our mobile culture, we are constantly under pressure to move from city to city in order to advance our careers, to further our educations, or simply to trade up for nicer houses in nicer neighborhoods. We are taught that fulfillment is always just over the next hill.

"...We can see the paradox: the same restlessness that sends us searching for community also keeps us from settling down wherever we are."—Jonathan Wilson-Hartgrove, Wisdom of Stability, p 20

Jonathan Wilson-Hartgrove does a great job of pointing out how despite our desire for true community, all of our social habits push us to seek what we're looking for somewhere else. There always seems to be bigger and better opportunities elsewhere.

Typically, there actually are better opportunities elsewhere. For this reason, we get very antsy when it comes to committing to anybody or anything.

But stable community cannot exist without commitment.

So if (and this is a big if!) community really is what we're looking for, stability of place is a necessity. There is no way around it. As Jonathan writes, "Stability demands that we do the long, hard work of life with other people in the place where we are."

I say "that's a big if" because I've moved at least once every year for the past ten years. Given the choice, I would do it all again. I moved from place to place in order to advance my education, learn about community and challenge myself. Sometimes we must go through a season of mobility to reach our goals at that time.

However, if a person chooses to move to a new city often, it is safe to say that person's immediate goal is not community. And that's okay. There are plenty of legitimate goals in life other than community. In fact, most people do not choose community and never do.

That's why intentional communities are radical. We like to call ourselves "ordinary radicals" (especially those of us in the New Monastic vein) because we make counter-cultural life choices.

Because we value friendship and conviviality, we decide to live together or near each other even though that decision might limit our other choices. Since we value collaboration, we choose to share things when we could just as easily go out and buy those things on our own. And because we value stability (and because our community members value us), we choose to stay in the place where we are.

This post was written by Jay Howard, Neighborhood Czar of Spare Key. If you missed the first of this series on The Wisdom of Stability, click here. 

Photo credit: The Wisdom of Stability

Spare Key just finished reading Jonathan Wilson-Hartgrove's The Wisdom of Stability which makes a case for staying in place and investing in a neighborhood. This is the first of two posts inspired by that book.

Spare Key's decision to read the Wisdom of Stability corresponded nicely with my and Amber's recent decision to buy a house. We have chosen to put down roots, and so it was nice to read something that affirmed that decision.

But in making his case for stable intentional communities, Jonathan Wilson-Hartgrove drew heavily from the Desert Fathers and Mothers. For example, he quotes Saint Antony a lot:

"In whatever place you live, do not easily leave it."
—Abba Anthony, 3rd century AD

As a recent home buyer, I resonate with the Desert Fathers' commitment to place. But in other ways, I have to admit I have a hard time getting excited about the wisdom of the Desert Fathers.

In many spiritualities---take Buddhism for example---the way of the householder is not considered a very spiritual path. In fact, the term householder meant "non-monastic" and contrasted sharply with the more spiritual and ascetic monastics who rejected the cares of society and sought freedom from all worldly attachments.


Christian monasticism makes exactly the same distinction between monastics and laity/householders. Monastics in general and the Desert Fathers and Mothers in particular always emphasized withdrawing as much as humanly possible from the distractions of everyday life. No getting married, no having a secular career, and certainly no buying houses.

Modern intentional communities aren't like that at all, of course. Instead, we put a great deal of emphasis on being active in our neighborhoods. Many intentional communities, including Jonathan Wilson-Hartgrove's own Rutba House in Durham NC, make a point of being hospitality houses.

So, while the Desert Fathers have much to teach us about the power of committing to a place, they're not quite as natural a choice when it comes to teaching us how to serve that place.

This post was written by Jay Howard, Neighborhood Czar of Spare Key. Check back later for the second part of this post series on The Wisdom of Stability. 

Instead of the front porch, today I am writing from the hammock. Nutmeg is lazing on the grass. Amber has decorated the harvest table with flowers and place-mats and the benches with blankets. I am getting ready to fire up the firebowl and grill burgers for Spare Key's weekly potluck.

Behind me on the porch an audacious plant grows from a crack in the caulking. We noticed it weeks ago, and we left it there. It has grown 18 inches, a slender green stalk straight toward the sky. I have no idea how it got there, or what it is, or how its roots are finding what they need in the bowels of my front porch. But I like what it's doing.

Just as a seed had thrived in calking and concrete, an intentional community has taken root in our own front yards.

After much soul-searching and debating of options, Amber and I have decided to stay in Springfield for the long term--to "hunker down" as one of my friends recently put it. We made this decision not least because of the unprecedented spirit of community we enjoy here. Having finally made a decision to settle, I can't tell you how liberating it is to just. be. present.

We are excited to participate in and contribute to what is happening in Springfield, a place that I know to be full of cultural creatives, high functioning idealists, and crusaders of every stripe. A metaphorical cloud of paper lanterns exists above Springfield, and I look forward to adding my own tiny lantern to the others that already illuminate the landscape.

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. But wherever it may be and whenever we may find it, I hope I let nothing distract me in the meantime from just. being. present.


My View From the Front Porch: May 2015, Jan 2015, Aug 2014
jayhoward@gmail.com

 

I had a wonderful time at the Saint Louis area Community of Communities gathering on Saturday, March 21. Lotus House hosted the event. In addition to Lotus, other communities were represented including Deaconess Ann House, the Vincentian Volunteer Corp, the New Beguines, and Anam Cara, among others. About 25 people attended overall.


The gathering encouraged me in many ways.

The Community of Communities gathering was very refreshing. From the hospitality and smiles, to the large pot of delicious veggie soup, to the chickens living under the back porch, I knew I was among members of my own tribe, so to speak. 

Springfield does not yet have the critical mass of covenanted intentional communities that Saint Louis has. I found it refreshing to suddenly be among so many kindred spirits when there are comparatively so few of us in Springfield. 

Also, the Lotus House has been around for longer than Spare Key. It is always inspiring to meet new friends who are farther along on the journey than us. I think there is a lot that Spare Key can learn from Lotus House. 






 

Spare Key was the only community from outside Saint Louis that was represented. It was a Saint Louis gathering, after all. But I was so glad they invited us. I had met Alden (who lives at Lotus House and who extended the invitation) only through email and through Lotus House's blog. Now that we've met, I sincerely hope Spare Key and Lotus House will find ways to work together in the future.



Many aspects of the gathering reminded me of my year in immersive community back in 2010.  For example, everybody at the gathering knew what the word “charism” meant. During introductions, everybody was able to easily name the two or three values upon which their respective communities were founded and by which they and their fellow community members endeavored to live.

I also noticed that many of us were in some kind of AmeriCorps program. Amber and I did AmeriCorps back in 2010, so I related to those folks who are currently in the throes of their own AmeriCorps stint. 

If their Intentional Community/AmeriCorps experience is anything like mine, their year will be deeply transformative for them in ways they won’t fully realize until later. In any event, while I knew that community and community service go together like PB and J, I had never recognized the specific symbiotic relationship that exists between AmeriCorps service corps and the broad range of religious Intentional Communities. 

I hope I get to see and interact with all the people I met at the Community of Communities gathering again in the future, whether in their neck of the woods or in mine.

In the Summer of 2012 Amber and I moved to Springfield, and right away we met with some friends at a breakfast cafe to talk about putting together an intentional community. We had a vision of what it could be like. As I reflect on that fateful breakfast several years later, I am happy to report that vision is a reality. In fact, the community that is now called Spare Key has far exceeded my hopes and expanded my vision.

We were looking for radical community. That is to say, a community that shared things. Our lives, our hopes, our day-to-day. We did not want to live in the same house with friends as we had successfully done in the past. We weren't looking for anything super immersive. We just wanted meaningful relationships with people that went beyond once-a-week interactions. And even that, in and of itself, is asking a lot. We didn't know if that kind of life would be in the cards for us at all.

As it turns out, we got much more than we asked. While the members of Spare Key do not live geographically close to one another, the community we have managed to generate actually feels more like a neighborhood than most actual neighborhoods do.

Spare Key has taught me many things over the past few years about the concept of community. Community is an abstract term, and can mean a lot of things. But while Spare Key is a community, I have come to think of it not so much as a place, or as a mission statement, or even as an expression of any philosophy or vision. I have conceptualized community primarily in those terms in the past. But now, to me, Spare Key is first and foremost a rich network of friendships.

And that's what we wanted all along.


~~~


(Jay's View from the Front Porch, January 2015)
sparekeycommunity@gmail.com

Our mission statement says: 

Spare Key is a neighborhood of adventurers committed to fostering practical expressions of the spiritual, personal and communal goals of its members through the act of sharing in hopes of leaving the world better than we found it. 
 

Today I want to focus on the "sharing" part. Through sharing, we help each other toward our goals, and we believe we can change our corner of the world for the better.

I've tried to compile a list of things we have shared so far as a community. The list is remarkable long considering how short a time we have been at it. (Spare Keyers, help me out in the comments section and add the items I'm forgetting.) There are stories behind every item on this list, which perhaps we can elucidate in future posts. 

Some of the items on this list are held independently, and some we purchased together as a community. I have mostly listed material items, and I didn't even try to cover the more important stuff that we share as a community - things like emotional support, happiness, and camaraderie. 

 













lawn mowers
sewing machine
wii U
a side of beef
laundry facilities
2 CSA shares
pet watching
nerf guns
garden work
yard work
camping stuff
freezer space
storage space
books
skill-sharing workshops (pilates, sewing, etc)
bike tools
other tools (tool library; drills, power washers)
brewing equipment
food
talent, time, and energy spent cooking.
musical ability (vocal, instrumental)
space (porches, yards, houses)
retreat expenses
holiday gift exchanges
cell phone plans

Last July, my dad, brother, and I built a harvest table. A harvest table is basically a very long picnic table. Since then, I have learned seven things about harvest tables.




1) Autumn is for harvest tables.
Fall is the perfect time to be outside.  The colors are changing, the air is cooling, and it's often nicer outside than inside. Putting a harvest table under a maple tree basically adds a whole new room to your house!

2) Use your harvest table regularly.
We have been having Sunday breakfast on the harvest table every week at 9:30. We've had pumpkin themed breakfast, apple themed breakfast, donuts themed, cereal themed, etc. We also have dinner on the table often.

3) Put your harvest table in the front yard, not the back yard.
Front yards are more open and inviting than back yards. We have often attracted passers-by during community meals on the harvest table, and we have gotten to know many of our neighbors this way.

4) Harvest tables are for friends.
We have a big community meal each week, and we couldn't fit everybody around a regular table. This is what motivated the harvest table idea in the first place.

5) Good luck trying to find a tablecloth long enough.
I once spent five years crocheting a blanket that was monstrously too big for the purposes of a conventional blanket, but even my monster blanket is not nearly long enough to cover this 12 foot long harvest table.

6) Bring your harvest table inside during the winter. 
We made the table out of treated lumber, but we still plan to bring it inside before it snows. It is actually made of two 6 foot tables placed side-by-side. Inside, the tables will make a 6x6 foot square rather than a 12x3 rectangle.

7) Having a harvest table in your front yard generates many possibilities. 
When we bring the tables inside, we will leave the four harvest table benches outside. The benches will be placed in a diamond shape around the fire bowl so that the outside festivities can continue.

Spare Key having a meeting on the harvest table.

I have been thinking about support systems lately - people we can turn to for help when we need it. I am surrounded by a robust support system of family members, community members, and friends. We are ready to help each other at a moment's notice should the need arise.

I tend not to think of next-door-neighbors as part of my support system. I have lived in rental houses and apartments for a long time, and we nomadic-rental-people tend not to work very hard at our relationships with one another.

I currently live in a rental house with a yard, but I do not own a lawn mower. I had been borrowing a nearby community-member's lawn mower, but it broke down. I couldn't really borrow from family, because my family members live impractically far away.



So there I was, hat in hand, on my next-door-neighbor's doorstep. She's a kind lady. She lives alone. I'm worried that my lawn mower-deficiency will offend her. "What kind of man am I if I don't even own a lawn mower?" I wonder. She is probably going to think I'm a freeloader.

 I knock on her door and ask her if I could borrow her mower. She says, "No problem! I just bought a new one!" So we talk for awhile about lawn mowers, and we work it out that I will mow her (small) lawn next time she thinks it needs it. I offered to help her paint her garage, too.

She has lived in her house for a long time. She said she's mowed my house's lawn many time in the past. As it turns out, I'm not the first renter in the world to not own a lawn mower. We talked about the neighborhood, and jobs, and so on.

I mowed my lawn and brought her mower back with a full gas tank. The tank cost 7 dollars to fill, and she said for 7 dollars I could use the mower for the rest of the season. Through this experience I learned that there are four corners to support systems: friends, family, community, and also neighbors.

I have been celebrating a lot lately. I have recently finished my Masters thesis; I am drawing near to the end of my graduate work; My birthday is coming up. We all like to celebrate important milestones. But this has got me thinking about the practice of celebration in general.

Celebration is the memorialization of happiness. It is the process of slowing down and experiencing happiness as it happens.

     What makes a good porch? 

Question: what are the characteristics for your dream-porch? 

"Making a good porch is both an art and a science." -Chapin

He notes that the social life of a pocket neighborhood revolves around the front porch. Because everyone walks in the neighborhood, it's easy to strike up a conversation.

It seems to me, though, that most of the coolest porches I have seen in regular neighborhoods are back porches rather than front porches. I could be wrong, but I think front porches are stiff and formal places, whereas back porches are casual and comfortable.

What do you think? ... What makes a good porch?

I'm currently reading Pocket Neighborhoods: Creating Small-Scale Community in a Large Scale World (2011/Taunton Press) (book) (website) by Ross Chapin. The forward is by Sarah Susanka, author of The Not So Big House.

Pocket neighborhoods are clustered groups of neighboring houses or apartments gathered around a shared open space — a garden courtyard, a pedestrian street, a series of joined backyards, or a reclaimed alley — all of which have a clear sense of shared stewardship.

Scale: Pocket neighborhoods are about restoring small-scale communities. Recreating and revitalizing the neighborhood has long been the goal of community activists, many of whom are motivated specifically by the problem of isolation, which Pocket Neighborhoods talks a lot about, as well as by other social problems.


Pocket Neighborhoods is a beautiful 200 page book, almost coffee-table-book size, with full color pictures of what pocket neighborhoods look like on every page. As I read it I look forward to blogging about the high points and interesting concepts on a section-by-section basis.