Community

After catching a glimpse of a book cover on a good friend's blog, I found myself in a whole new world of uplifting stories and advice from one Jen Hatmaker. She just makes so much sense to me in every way. I read her newest book, and the woman speaks my language. She is so real, and it is so good for all woman (and man-)kind. She even named her oldest son Gavin. Coincidence? I think not. We are clearly soul sisters.

Jen, with just a few more years of parenting and being a human with real, human experiences than I have, can tell you like it is in the most gentle, and usually funny way. She has five children, the youngest of whom just started middle school. She proclaims that she enjoys parenting older children about 100% more than she enjoyed the younger years. I don't know what it's like to have school-age children, but I can already tell you that I am completely of that sentiment. I know I've made it abundantly clear that parenting small kids drives me mad on my best days. It goes without saying that my children are my life. I can't hug and snuggle them enough. They're my biggest source of joy, easily. But at the end of the day, all I crave is some peace. I need space and silence and room to breathe and nobody touching me. It's a noisy and chaotic and stressful life, and it has me so wound up that I hardly sleep at night. For real...I average five broken hours of sleep, and I feel and look awful every day. I don't have it any harder or worse than any other person with two small kids, but I'm not wired for this. Not on a constant, every day basis. 

When I'm out here, 40 minutes from civilization, especially when I'm parenting alone, it makes for a very dark and lonely time. I try to be my best self for my children, and I'm sure I only partly succeed at it. But you know what Jen has stressed through her latest book and the one that came before it? A sense of community. I don't have one of those. 

All the research shows that human relationships are the best thing for your health and will keep you alive longer than exercising or even quitting smoking will. Since 2009, when we moved way the hell too far away, I've lived out many of my hours in isolation. I've also spent a lot of time feeling sad about it. Somehow, I was okay with it for the first several years. I had other factors at play, including being miserable at work and just being immature. I've experienced a lot of personal growth and a healthy dose of perspective in the last few years, though, and the isolation is not okay with me anymore.

I know that part of the problem is my lack of initiative in gathering people. I was always hesitant to ever invite anyone to my house because it was so far away, and I didn't want to impose that drive on anybody. I think that's actually pretty reasonable and accounts for probably about 50% of the equation. The other 50% was just that reaching out to people is outside of my comfort zone. 

Well, I'm here to tell you that if/when I get the hell out of this house, I will be putting "creating a sense of community" at the top of my to-do list. I need that more than anything. I will invite neighbors over and possibly initiate playdates. The worst that can happen is that people either say no, or they say yes and it's awkward or not fun. As Jen says, at least you've invited someone into your home and fed them lunch, and that is a good thing. Another careful point to remember is that your house doesn't have to look nice or be perfectly clean. Your humanity is your best asset. As Jen puts it, your neighbor needs to feel welcome and loved more than she needs for your kitchen to be clean. 

So, there it is. I'm reaching my limit and losing my mind, and I need out of here ASAP. Moving closer into town won't solve all my problems. At any given time, everyone is battling some sort of demon. I know that. But as the old adage goes, "If you don't like something, then change it." I don't like living here. It makes every day so much harder than it needs to be, and I am determined to change that one thing about my life. I will still have lonely days, and things will still be hard, even if I land right smack dab in the middle of this city, but being in closer proximity to people will only work to my advantage. I will do my best to shed my insecurities and create the community that I (and everyone) needs for their well-being. If Jen, a self-diagnosed introvert after reading the Quiet book (just as I am!) can create a vast network of people that she can laugh and cry with on a moment's notice, then I can, too. At least I can try.