My Vision for Long-Term Community

A call to those who wish to build a beautiful life together

over the next several years, i am building a community that i wish to grow old in. this post lays out the broad vision for what that community might be like. the particulars are not important, the feeling-sense is what i hope to communicate. i hope this post serves as a beacon for like-minded people who want to actualize this dream together. please reach out if this vision resonates with you. you can reach me on Twitter @strangers_gate or via email at hello@strangersgate.com.

One Day

even before the sun rises, the various creatures of the woods start to stir — the birds, squirrels, insects, frogs, salamanders, chipmunks, deer, moose, and wild cats. they all live here among the trees and streams and mountains and ponds. the smell of damp leaves and soil in the air, the creatures begin to venture out of their nests and dens, foraging for food, calling out to the others in their own ways.

i become aware of existence again. it is pleasant. it wasn’t always this way. for many years, waking was one of the most difficult and aversive parts of my day. not any more. the love permeating this place and the inner work i have done here have taught me to enjoy waking to a new day. there is always something to look forward to.

i open my eyes. there is the wood of our cabin. the boards of the wall are familiar: i helped place and finish them. when the weather is right, i can still smell them. light comes in from the window. there is no need for curtains here. no need for eye masks or ear plugs or alarm clocks. this is a place where i can be in sync with the natural rhythms of the world. 

my Beloved lays next to me, just waking as well. no need to rush. a sleepy smile and a loving exchange, soft kisses. we get up. my feet touch the deerskin fur on the floor. a recent gift from Adonis. he’s been learning to tan the hides of roadkill. the faint scent of yesterday’s incense can still be detected in the stillness. my Beloved and I and make the bed together.

the cabin is small, but not cramped. we’ve worked hard to make it simple but beautiful. there is a bedroom, a living room for reading or sitting or for hosting a few friends, and a small kitchen area, rarely used. there is an outhouse nearby. we will have to add a room or move to a larger cabin if we ever have children together, but we will cross that bridge when we come to it. there is no stress there: we and the members of our community have learned how to build, how to meet each new challenge as it comes.

it’s clear and warm today. we open the windows to let in some fresh air and then step out into the air ourselves. there is a flat area near the cabin where we often do yoga. from here we can see the trees, the animals scurrying here and there, let in the smell of the earth. it feels so good to get into our bodies: feeling the stretch of our muscles and sinew, moving in sync with our breath, remembering that we exist here and now on this earth.  afterwards, we meditate together, preparing our minds for the day just as we prepared our physical forms: letting go of habitual construction, returning to clarity, honing our attention. i enter jhāna and contemplate emptiness…

in the distance we hear the big meal bell ring. smiling, we get up to walk barefoot to the meal hall where Melanie and Ethan have been busy preparing breakfast for the community. we feel the grass on our feet as we walk the path through the woods and past open fields. i can see other cabins peaking from behind trees. different shapes and sizes, many of which i had a hand in constructing. it is delighting to know that i helped my friends build their homes. up ahead we see Ruth and her two daughters — the baby swaddled against her back and the other walking alongside — helping Grandpa and Grandma to the meal hall.

we are not atomized here. we exist in relation to each other, supporting one another throughout our lives. while there are times we are in solitude for the purpose of spiritual practice, we are not alone. Ruth, or one of her trusted friends, carries her baby as she goes about her day, directly introducing her baby to the world. of course, everyone is free to choose how to raise their own children, but the spirit of friendship, experiential teaching, and mutual support pervades. the same values persist as the people grow into children, teenagers, adults, and the elderly. we are here to lead beautiful lives with each other.

as we approach the meal hall, we can smell the browning vegetables. once inside, we take our bowls from the shelves get in line together. the bowl i’m holding was made by Rebecca, here in the pottery studio. the space is filled with her art — bowls, vases, sculptures. a physical manifestation of her care and heart, a constant reminder of her love.

there are 20 of us here this morning: 4 children, 3 elderly, and 13 adults. of course, there are a few more who can’t be present for breakfast. Mikey has been on silent meditation retreat for the last five weeks and Ariana has been with her teacher working with plant medicines for the last three. Brett and Sarah are away visiting family and there are a couple guests staying in their cabin. it’s always like this: friends coming and going. the constant flux only serves to make life feel richer and more vibrant.

when everything and everyone is ready, the drum beats and we sing. it’s a blessing of the food, a celebration of the continuation of life, gratitude for the bounty of the earth, a reminder of why we’re here living together, the daily work of the living. the food is simple, but nutritious and prepared with love. there are cooked oats, nut butters, fruit, eggs from our hens, and sautéd vegetables. at the end of the serving table is the offering bowl, in which we each deposit a small bit of food to be given back as a token of generosity. we eat together, catching up with our friends who have recently returned home and meeting our new guests. 

soon after we finish our food, the bell rings and everyone springs into action to help clean up. the guests are instructed, the children are supervised, and each person does the work that’s appropriate for them. we quickly restore the kitchen to a clean slate, less the food out that needs preparation for lunch. the scent of tee tree oil and the drying floor is the only evidence of the energetic typhoon that just passed through the meal hall. as she leaves, i watch Ruth instruct her older daughter in delivering packages of food to Mikey, Ariana, and Ariana’s teacher. i’m glad that they’re being provided for.

the morning work period begins. we are planning a festival for the fall equinox. with only a few more months to prepare, this morning is full of meetings to review logistics and plan. at this point, i’m no longer surprised that the meetings are actually fun and don’t feel like work. they’re spacious and not rushed, even with our deadline. they have a playful quality, a sense of shared purpose and creation. we care deeply about each other first. 

the vision begins to unfold: trees bathed in light, bonfires, tents and camp sites, art, colorful fabric, retreat party, music (live and electronic), meditation, group body and mind, movement, love temple, ecstatic dance, medicine ceremony. and the purpose becomes clear: practicing the path of love, creating the foundation for a harmonious society, orienting towards awakening together, creating and appreciating beauty. we are the makers of the future. hundreds will come and be inspired. it starts here, but others will carry the torch far and wide.

i duck out early to help prepare lunch, grateful that a friend has done the shopping. i gather some herbs from the garden and Victor is already chopping vegetables when i return. we smile as we work. there is joy in creating a meal that we know our friends will savor. and of course there is the ceremony of setting the food out just right. we balance the practicalities and the presentation. beauty is important even in the food. in our community, we sometimes play the game of who can make the most delicious meal, sometimes “cheating” by preparing ahead of time. i love that my hands will smell of garlic for the rest of the day, a reminder of the service that i have done.

when the food has been set out and everyone is beginning to line up, i notice: Tetsuo is here! he must have arrived this morning. of course i knew he was coming, but it is still a delight to see him in the flesh. we hug each other, and, once we have taken food, eat out on the lawn in the sunshine. insects buzzing around us, overlooking a pond and the mountains. groups come together and disappear. Tetsuo tells us about his travels.

and then it’s time for cleanup and chores again. the daily rhythms. but chores are not a chore. they’re the blood running through our collective veins and we relish our collective life. cleaning, maintenance, and organization. they prepare our external body for its work just as much as taking a shower prepares each of us for doing daily work. the feeling of working alongside friends and doing it out of love.

when the chores are done, i meet with Ruth to take a walk. she carries her baby as usual. we go out the main building, past the workshop and garage. we wave to Adonis and his young apprentice, Ethan and Melanie’s son. they’re working together on repairing a tractor. one of Adonis’ robotic inventions sits nearby, half disassembled for upgrades. others are working in the garden, gathering firewood, and working on the land. we go up the winding trail, watching the animals in the distance. we hear the birdsong and the small creatures marking our passage. under our feet we feel the rocks, the mossy earth, and the water of streams we cross.

this land is not ours, but it is in our care. we are grateful to the trees for standing tall and we tend to the land as we have learned. we pass that knowledge down to our children and any who care to ask and listen. Ruth and i talk of how to support more cabins on the land while remaining in harmony with the wilderness. we pass the sweat lodge. Ruth’s daughter will participate in her first lodge this weekend. it’s an important step for both of them: it’s a rite of passage, a welcoming into greater responsibility and independence. Ruth gathers a few wild flowers on our way back. they will brighten some corner of our home and remind us of the beauty all around us.

as we round the bend on our way back, we hear dance music starting to drift over the hills. we suddenly realize that Ethan’s dance class must be starting and we run to make it on time. Ethan is a world-class dancer. he travels to compete and sometimes hosts dance workshops on our land. those offerings, like all our events oriented towards those living outside our community, are offered on a donation basis. we trust that if what we are offering is of value then we will be compensated accordingly. today’s lesson, however, is oriented towards those living within our community and is offered as a gift. for each other, our skills and talents are shared without the exchange of money. a transaction would devalue the friendship we share. even for necessary services, we prefer to cultivate friendships and exchange rather than always minimizing expense. it’s our way of staying in contact with those who help sustain us.

with the constant dance practice and such skilled teachers, i’ve progressed quickly over these last several years and i’ve enjoyed becoming more attuned with my body and learning to move with flair. we step into flow together. the touch of our hands dissolves the barriers between us and we move as one in time to the music. this dance is the same as the dance we live every day. it is both practice for our lives and our lives are practice for this dance. there is joy in the surrender to the rhythm. it’s one of our many arts, expressions of our love and creativity.

soon, it’s time for circling and the community gathers outside. Ruth and i briefly explain the practice to the guests. we will be present in the here and now, attuning to each of ourselves and the quality of the connection between us. it starts slow, but quickly the emotions and stories that were already here beneath the surface of the group field start manifesting in us. what was hidden becomes plainly projected. from here, we see each other deeply, practice loving the exiled parts, go on a journey together through the wilderness of our minds. there are the mundane tensions: the unwashed dishes, the lights that were left on, and the frustrations at the slowness of building the new bath house; the emotional turmoils: the secret crushes, anger stemming from deep parental wounds, fears of disapproval for not contributing enough; and the existential angst: why do i keep beating myself up, will i ever find love, and what are we even doing here. being together in love, the group mind faces all of these troubles slowly but surely, one day at a time. this is how we practice relationally.

as the circle closes, i see Adonis and Tetsuo beginning to prepare a fire and i wander over to help, gathering some of the children along the way to practice lighting a fire with them. the young ones will gather the kindling and the older ones i’ll supervise splitting wood. we will use some tonight for a celebration and some this weekend for the sweat lodge. soon, the fire is crackling, pouring forth its light and warmth. the smell of camp fire wafts through the clearing as the smoke lends an air of sanctity, connecting us back through the generations. more friends gather. Grandpa is whittling again. a guitar appears in the hands of a smiling Victor. there is laughing and singing, sitting together, holding hands and each other. 

Quinn, my Beloved, and i have plans tonight for a private ceremony, but since Tetsuo is here, we invite him into our plans. soon, the four of us slip off together holding hands and make our way back to our cabin. tonight it will be a temple. the candles are lit and the incense burned. we all know it can be a dangerous magic that we weave, but it is our art. one of our ways of moving energy that we’ve practiced and honed. Tetsuo starts spinning beats and we dance, we sing, we undress each other. our divine masculinity and femininity manifest and we worship each other. this night is not for mere pleasure, though the very air is infused with it. we practice non-attachment to even this height of ecstasy and glory. the joy and love that is cultivated here pours from each of our hearts and fills the others, overflowing, running as rivers to irrigate the community, the land, the creatures here. from there, the love seeps into the aquifers and flows into the oceans, ultimately nourishing the entire world.

this is our life. we are one with the cycles. we joyously dance with them and bring them all into fruition. all things that come also go. we dance with death just as much as we dance with life. may we fully live here and may we fully die here and may it all be of benefit.

as we wind down for the night, we review the evening, ever honing.

Afterword

i want to emphasize that the details of the vision i have presented above are not important. the practices, activities, structures, and rituals are not the point. rather, the vision is pointing towards a way of living life. what that life will ultimately end up looking like will depend on the real people who live there and collectively craft it. additionally, i don’t expect to always be passionate about the same activities. so while i write about the activities that i know now, i do so only because i know them well enough to use them to communicate the feeling tone of the life i want to live. therefore, i invite you to see past the details and instead be with the deeper prayer of living in wholeness and alignment together.

if this vision resonates with you and you would like to be involved, please reach out. you can reach me on Twitter @strangers_gate or via email at hello@strangersgate.com. i’d love to hear from you.

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thank you so much to my friends who have reviewed this post, given me valuable feedback, and encouraged me. your reflections have given me the courage to put it out into the world. i am especially grateful to @tasshinfogleman and @mary_bajorek for helping me through this writing process as part of the Give Your Gift program.