Understanding the power of community
How communal care has been a refuge for me in a time of when we are experiencing an epidemic of loneliness
Contemplations
Have you been a part of a community that has been supportive and additive to your life? What were those feelings of goodness?
Where are there places in your life you need more support? Where do you feel unseen and heard and wish you didn’t feel alone in your experience?
Do you have any resistance to connecting to a community? If so, why?
***
As someone who lives, breathes and writes about identity and healing, I often think about how alone I am in my experience. I tend to focus on this aspect because it can even be more heartbreaking to look at my deep desire of wanting to connect with someone and not being able to actually find anyone. Because then it’s not just a fear, it’s confirmation that you are alone.
Ironically, we are not alone in feeling alone with a recent survey that the highest rates of loneliness were found in young adults.
“Nearly 1 in 4 adults across the world have reported feeling very or fairly lonely, a new Meta-Gallup survey has found.
“Human beings need social connections to thrive, and being embedded in strong supportive networks can protect our wellbeing when we’re faced with difficulties in life,” said Dr. Olivia Remes, a mental health researcher at the University of Cambridge in the United Kingdom.
What I have found over the years is that the search for a community is worth the effort — even if you have to start one yourself like I did. That has been one of the biggest lessons and ways I’ve healed myself over the years. First with starting Joyful Liberation Collective; I started the space because I was tired of going to wellness spaces and feeling, again, alone in my own experience, especially since I was going to those spaces to heal. I remember having that deep yearning and urge to have a space where I could connect to someone about about the suffering we feel everyday from white supremacy. With no particular business plan, I held our first event five years ago (!) not expecting anyone to show up. Instead we had an almost packed room. At the end of that first community gathering, I’ll never forget when a young person walked up to me, Queer and neurodivergent, and told me the space we created was the first time they felt safe enough to be themself. I wasn’t sure exactly what the next step was, but I knew I had to keep going.
Since then, the idea of community has gone from a nice-to-have to becoming integral to my life. Where there has been a hole in my heart, I go out of my way to see if a community can fill it. (This is how I nurture the good in my life, but more on that another time.)
I have found two communities where I can practice my Buddhism — one to satisfy the cerebral need I have to understand the teachings and the other to show me that a mindful life is possible. (And as we honor Zen Master Thich Nhat Hanh’s continuation this weekend, two years after his passing, I am grateful more than I will ever be able to express for the community Thầy started and built.)
I have found a community of writers at Narrative Healing (Check out Founder
at ) like , and who I can show the roughest of drafts to, knowing they will give me loving feedback to get it to where I want it to be. (And I have found YOU, my little reader community, which affirms my belief in myself and my path as a writer every week.)I have found places where I can go and either extract the internalized oppression in my body in
’s somatic abolitionist community or rest and simply be with other people of color.I’ve even found a little community of aspiring musicians here in the Western Catskills where I’ve started taking guitar lessons. (🎶 I’m learning Sleep On the Floor in case you were curious 🎶).
It has been lifechanging to connect with other people who have similar lived experience, values, interests as you. In a country and time where America is in an epidemic of loneliness, I can’t image ever going back to trying to figure it out on “my own.” But I, like many of us, was conditioned that way for so long. When I break down that idea, really look, I often come back to the same two reasons why I haven’t wanted to connect with others in the past: (1) I’m afraid of [insert shame, embarrassment, someone seeing me for who I truly am and then rejecting me ]; or (2) I didn’t feel see the value in community.
I will be the first to say that not every community, especially spiritual communities, is supportive as we have seen more and more people come forward about the abuse they endured. I was shellshocked when I found out about what happened at the yoga studio I trained at — that in itself is enough to traumatize someone enough to not want to even look for “the one.”
And though it has taken me some time to heal from that fall out, I have learned over time that not every community is going to meet every one of your needs. This has helped me focus my efforts and instead of putting too much pressure on finding something that doesn’t exist, I focus on either a handful or one need at a time. I essentially look at all the places in me that want more nourishment and let that be my guide.
My tips for finding the right community:
Write down what you want to get out of the connections there.
Trust your gut. If something does sit right with you, listen to that.
That being said, go in with an open mind and heart. If you’re finding much resistance when you’re there, explore why that it is.
Not to be Buddhist about it but…
One of the core teachings of Buddhism is the Three Jewels — the idea that we can take refuge in the Buddha, dharma and sangha. That these three things are not just essential for our practice but also a space for us to put our suffering.
I take refuge in the Buddha.
I take refuge in the dharma.
I take refuge in the sangha.
I have been thinking about this deeply as I continue to big moments of darkness, navigating a lot of unknown. In these moments where I have felt my heart the heaviest, I have reached out to others who I know understands the deep suffering and heartbreak that I am feeling — whether it’s because of my race or a different specific, lived experience.
Like clockwork, I have seen how sharing, letting others help me hold the weight of my heartbreak has lightened the load. Or as one of my dear teachers Kaira Jewel Lingo told me, “We are not meant to hold this much suffering on our own.”
And sometimes, safety can be created by simply being together with the intention of being in harmony. A dear friend of mine has been staying with us for the past few weeks as she figures out her next steps on her journey. I have been so grateful for her presence and she has reminded me why sangha is one of the Three Jewels. On my hardest days, just by breathing together, that has helped me feel more held. Often, we start our mornings together in practice.
I have had a regular (one could argue rote) 15-minute sitting practice every morning. As my friend aspires to be a monastic, she had invited more time in. I start by ringing the bell on my alter three times doing my daily prayers, just like I watched my father do every morning when I was growing up. And then we do a short chant before sitting for 30 minutes.
Just feeling her mindful energy next to me, the warmth of her presence, sitting next to me has given me much comfort and much equanimity, especially in a time when I often feel like waves are crashing into me and I can’t always find the sand underneath my feet. Knowing that I have a friend there with me in my practice, to help me surf the waves as they come, helps me manage my fear long enough to not only take a breath but to let it bring me back to the present moment. And that, when the sun shines in on my humble little practice room, is the greatest gift I could ask for. That is a jewel that I have and will continue to take refuge in.
This is what Thầy (Zen Master Thich Nhat Hanh) means when he says, “If you are a drop of water, then you will evaporate halfway; but if you go as a river, you will surely reach the ocean.”
For me, the Adorn with Flowers sangha (that’s what we call ourselves), even as a sangha of two, has served as a reminder for me of how much stronger, wiser, more compassionate I am when I am with a friend. As someone who learned to go at it alone, I have slowly unlearned that life is not just a harder that way, but much less fun.
I also know how hard it is to surrender, to reveal yourself, to have enough faith that can be loved and accepted exactly as you are. But I’m here to remind you it is possible.
So I hope you take this as an opportunity to go find your people.
***
Contemplations
Have you been a part of a community that has been supportive and additive to your life? What were those feelings of goodness?
Where are there places in your life you need more support? Where do you feel unseen and heard and wish you didn’t feel alone in your experience?
Do you have any resistance to connecting to a community? If so, why?
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Love you and love this, Kim! It is such a joy and gift to be in community with you.
What a lovely meditation space!