A Fourth Commitment: Community

Photo by Priscilla Du Preez 🇨🇦 on Unsplash

The current regime in Washington has been directly responsible for some important recent insights. Let me share two stories.

The Sunday after the inauguration, I was home, alone, and despondent about the future of our country. In my view, the worst scenario had come to pass, and the initial blitz of executive orders was promising to bring pain to many people who didn't deserve it while rubbing salt into the wounds of those who did not support those actions.

I thought to myself: I need to be with other people. I MUST be in community today. So, its being Sunday and all, I headed for church. I found the pews packed with people -- so packed, that I ended up in the very last row. As we were putting on coats at the end of the service, I said to the woman in front of me something like: Wow, I really needed that today. She said the same was true for her, and that's why she showed up that day. We exchanged smiles, and then went out into the cold January day. COMMUNITY.

Last Saturday, I participated in the protest demonstration in my town. The mood was surprisingly festive -- the park was filled with like-minded people who were brought together because we felt that we could be doing better -- a lot better -- as a country. There was music, dancing, hugs, waving signs at cars honking their horns, and a general feeling of connection. COMMUNITY

Since then, I've been reflecting on the role of "community" in my life -- because these two occurrences felt, somehow, different.

I realized that during my working years, my primary community was the university where I was employed. That's where I physically spent many hours a week. The people were colleagues and students with whom I worked intensely on engaging projects. Some of my closest colleagues were physically there; others were at other universities around the world. But university life constituted my primary community. (I'm not judging that, just observing it.)

I had 3 major university affiliations during my career -- and when I moved from one place to another, the primary affiliation shifted, as it should.

Now that I am (almost) retired, I feel that shift happening again --- but the difference is that I am not moving to another university. I am saying farewell to a community that has been important to me, and that is leaving a big hole.

As an aside, I don't think most workplaces are very good at engaging their retired employees. Life moves on, salaries become reallocated for other purposes, new people need to be brought on board, and those retiring are (sometimes gently, sometimes not) sent on their way. For some who remain working, there may even be a feeling of jealousy -- oh, now that person is going to get to sleep late, travel, spend more time with their grandkids, play golf every day, and not have to come to work. That rosy view of retirement has not been my experience.

Perhaps my case is more complicated than some others, because my retirement transition coincided with the death of my life partner of 53 years. So not only is that key relationship gone, but also gone are most of the work-mediated relationships that had been my daily life for many years. A large space has opened up.

If you have been a regular reader of "A Seeker's Journey," you know that I have made 3 commitments for this new phase of my life: singing, writing on Substack, and deepening relationships. They are each bringing me great joy. I feel supported in doing each of them by my family and friends, and I feel quite fortunate that I have the health and resources that enable me to engage in each of them. They are most definitely filling that post-transition space.

But the writing is largely solitary (although I love the interactions with readers that it evokes). Most of the singing is with a chorus, and there is certainly community there -- but not profoundly deep at a personal level, with a few exceptions. And the relationships with friends are so important, but many of them are dyadic -- directly between me and the other person. Most of my relationships are not within a large social network where everyone knows everyone else and interacts with everyone. (Unlike, for example, a large extended family in which everyone is into each other's business. No thank you.)

So -- Why does all of this make me ponder the meaning of community for me? The two experiences mentioned at the top of this essay have both shown me that I need and I want community. Opportunities may present themselves, but I'm finding that I have to meet them half-way. I had to get myself out of the house and to church on that cold January day. I had to go to that rally last weekend.

A close friend who retired a few years before me said that his wise father advised: Retirement shouldn't be just about what you are leaving; it should be about what you are going toward. I am trying to take that to heart as I add another commitment to my list: community.

Sometimes, I'm a bit gobsmacked to be hit in the head with such an obvious conclusion. If someone had asked me about it, I'm sure I could have talked about the importance of community at length. I could cite studies, books, surveys, and bore you pretty quickly. But I'm finding that talking about it and doing it, really taking it on, are two different things. So, as I enter year 2 of my writing project, I'm sure some of my upcoming essays will elaborate on my new adventures in community.

I would welcome the opportunity to learn about your experiences in community, or needing community, or about balancing community with other commitments. We are on this journey together.