The Power of Community

And the lessons from my South African adventure continue. I wasn't sure -- and I'm still not sure -- exactly how long I'll be able to extrapolate lessons. Just when I think I might be done another one arises. This week, I want to talk about the power of being in community and honouring self in equal measure.

This particular trip was organized by a friend; he and his wife have been to South Africa many times in the last few decades (she actually grew up there) and he has wanted to organize a group trip for many years. In a lot of ways, this trip was the fulfillment of a dream for him: bringing a group of friends together to experience the beauty of a country in the way that he first experienced it himself. To put it mildly, he did a SPECTACULAR job.

The thing about travelling with a group is that we quickly became a community of sorts. We lived in the same spaces (separate rooms, but shared venues), and for the most part we engaged in the same activities and ate the same meals. We were together a lot.

At first, I was aware of a collective sense of tentativeness -- a way in which each of us was getting our bearings in relation to one another. We all knew each other to some degree; but none of us knew each other deeply. So, we weren't sure how we needed to be in this space of togetherness. Should we all eat together all of the time? Should we give each other space? Would it be okay for any one person to do their own thing? Or suggest an alternative activity?

As our initial friendly banter gave way to a sense of routine, I noticed the way in which folks started to become more comfortable with doing what they needed to do, creating time and space for self even as we continued to honour our shared agenda. 

There was even a way that I started to notice tendencies toward introversion or extraversion that hadn't been obvious in the "getting to know one another" stage. One of the things that was quite surprising was how folks I believed to be highly extraverted would get quiet at some points of the day, and others who I believed to be quiet would become more energized in different scenarios. My friend summarized this observation beautifully: everyone gets quiet sometimes.

And through it all, no matter how folks were individually, no matter what activity was at play or what meal was being enjoyed, it appeared to me that everyone was actually very aware of everyone else. There was a collective "looking out for one another" that was energetically obvious no matter what was going on.

This, to me, underscored the power of conscious community. While we all had our own needs and our own preferences and were making our own choices, there was a way that we were simultaneously holding everybody else. Allowing folks to be who they were, do what they want AND tuning in to what they might need so that those needs never went unmet, if it could be helped.

I found it all very fascinating; and it got me wondering: what does it take to honour one's own self, while ensuring that everyone is supported? How was it that we all had our own desires met, without ever ignoring another's needs? How was it that we built such a strong sense of community?

I'm not entirely sure I have the answer other than to say this: we were all committed to giving each other space, while simultaneously staying connected. There was no making someone wrong if they chose to do something different; there was no shaming if someone was moving faster or slower; there was a deep sense of honouring and including and welcoming and supporting. It actually wasn't hard to do. And it was beautiful to experience. 

This sense of collective community is what I long for in our world. The space to be 100% me, unapologetically, even while I get to look out for those around me (yes, I said "get to"). My guess -- if I extrapolate the lesson from my recent trip -- is that this doesn't need to be hard. It simply requires commitment. So, I invite you to consider this: how committed are you to consciously creating community?