Community As Such

What is community? I almost hesitate to begin this entry because community is such a commonly used word and everyone one has their own definition. But then again that can be said of many other words as well such as: family, religion, truth and love. So I’m not going to go on about what I think community is but rather share a few instances when I felt community; either as a part of it or as witness to it.

The Village Community

I’ll start with my village; among myself and my siblings we’ve always be partial to the saying “it takes a village to raise a child.” Having grown up with a broad extended family which I lovingly refer to as “the granola heads” our extended family included Catholics, Buddhists, Atheists, Artists, Musicians, Laborers and more. They were a tribe. And they instilled in me (and I think for my brothers and sisters as well) the belief that you draw to the people you need in life too you, those people are your village/community and that community becomes your family. So after I left home I went out into the world looking for my place, I knew I was going to be a gypsy for while because I held on to the belief that when I found the right place the universe would let me know. And 10 years later I did. I settled into a tiny town (so tiny in fact that it is technically a village, no joke) with an amazing community. Here I mean community as the town itself; the shops, the local artist, the farms the people behind the counters at the bank. It’s that kind of “soul” of a place that people allude to when talking about where they live. And I also settled into a nice community which you could call my family of friends. We all pitch in to help each other out be it taking someone’s kid to after school activities or watching someone’s dog or even dropping dinner over when someone has had a busy day. We look out for each other. A community recognizes its own needs within itself and fills them without question or hesitation.

The Collective Community

Recently I discovered another kind of community. I was off on a 2 ½ day yoga conference so excited to meet other yogis and other teachers and most excitedly to simply be a student for a while. I promised myself I would be more outgoing in the hopes of meeting some people I could develop friendships with. And I did connect with a few people I hope to stay in touch with but what I found more interesting was the kind of instant and fleeting friendships that were created. A lovely sort of 15 minute friendship lived out in the time between workshops and speakers. These brief encounters lifted my spirits but they did not symbolize community for me, that happened when I was silent, most often right before a workshop started, sitting and gazing around at rooms packed with yogis all with the purpose of practicing and learning together. In fact a few instructors had us turn to the people around us and say “Namaste” to acknowledge this fact, it did on few instances bring me to tears. I’ve always felt like yoga is a gift and there I was surrounded by nearly 400 people who felt the same way. But not as though it was a gift to me or to them but a gift to give away and share and love and revel in for one weekend together and on out into the world after that. See we were a community of communities, we all came from different places as representatives of our own community; some as students, some as teachers, some just curious. And we came together to grow and strengthen as one and then disperse taking with us new tools and knowledge back to our own communities to grow and strengthen them.

The Unwavering Community

This morning I saw community defined. I’m in Erie visiting my Grandmother who last year moved into an assisted living facility. She’s not doing to bad but over the past few months she’s started a downward spiral that has sent shock waves of worry and grief through the family. The thing that made me draw my breath in with anxiety was when I heard she had stopped going to morning Mass. My Grandmother is a devout Catholic and she’s what I like to call “old school Catholic.” She doesn’t judge, she doesn’t preach she simply embodies love, forgiveness and compassion. To my mind, the way religion is supposed to be. My grandmother’s church is her community. They rallied around her when my Grandfather died with loving arms and prayers for peace. So when her body finally weakened to the point where she could no longer get up and visit her community any along her community got up and came to her. I had no idea they were doing this until this morning when I was visiting her and a woman walked in who was obviously not a nurse. I was unfamiliar to her as well so she assumed I was there for physical therapy she said she’d quickly give my Grandmother communion and leave us be. When I heard that I nearly cried, I explained that I was her visiting granddaughter and she should take her time. As I sat there listening to her read my Grandmother prayers I did in fact cry. Not because I was sad, though that was mixed in there too, but because I was blown away by this act of kindness within a community. The woman told me how much they all love my Grandmother and miss her and how lucky I am to have her genes in me. I thanked her from the bottom of my heart when she left. She had brought kindness and hope not just to my Grandmother this morning but to me as well and when I leave here I know now that not only does my Grandmother have her family here to love and support her but she’s also got one amazing community. Amen!