31/01/2024
“You are part of a larger destiny, and it’s safe to trust the seeds within you.”
I’d like to preface this by saying that I feel called to share more in general (not just on this topic), and I also feel a bit self-conscious because I don’t know exactly where all this is going.
I’m choosing to trust that sharing is valuable in and of itself. It doesn’t need to “go somewhere.”
So -- I want to talk about love, family, and community.
I am not a conventional person and I am not living a conventional lifestyle.
I’m in my early 40s and not yet partnered (though I’m very excited about that!).
I don’t have a big biological family, and they’re scattered around the country.
When I’m alone too much, I get lonely, and that significantly degrades my quality of life.
And I am an archetype; there are millions of people like me around the world.
I currently live in a co-living community with a number of other people. We rent a large, 5-bed 3-bath house with a 2-bed 1-bath apartment upstairs, and a pool and hot tub.
We have a house brunch and meeting every other week.
We have regular movie nights, and host regular gatherings to bring even more people together (i.e. Friendsgiving).
Several of us share a CSA (community-sourced agriculture) box, and we help one another with food prep.
We are close, and provide emotional support as well as practical support.
As I reflect on my life, I see that living in community has been foundational to my personal happiness, wellness, and vitality. And I’ve lived in community for most of my adult life, almost without realizing it.
I’ll just share one example of this. Years ago I moved to DC, where I essentially lived alone in a 2-bed apartment (my good friend/housemate was away for work for several weeks out of the month). After a while I realized I was lonely. I had a restaurant job and friends around the city, but didn’t like living alone. It wasn’t fulfilling; something major was missing in my life.
So I took a risk and shared a dream of mine with two friends. I still remember saying it out loud -- it felt both thrilling and out of reach: “I want to put together a community house.”
My friends were enthusiastically supportive, and one even said he’d want to live there. He was heavily involved as we searched, but ultimately decided he didn’t want to do it. This has been consistent in my experience -- some original people don’t end up doing the project, but are instrumental in getting it off the ground. In this case, his enthusiasm and encouragement were the fuel my soul needed to keep going in this direction.
Within a few weeks we had a core group of people interested. We started looking at houses and exchanged extremely entertaining emails about why some were ill-suited to our needs (i.e. The Cross House, which had a giant cross on the roof and a number of locked rooms, of which the realtor said, “Yeah, you can’t ever go in there.”).
Eventually we found the right place -- just 10 days before the end of the month. It was down to the wire and stressful, but it was the perfect fit. We were elated.
We stayed in that house for 4-5 years, and we were happy. It wasn’t perfect, but it was a rich experience. We shared our lives with one another. One of my housemates edited my book. We all took care of another’s dog, especially when she was at work. We laughed together and cried together and once helped to calm down a housemate who had been chased down the street by a naked man.
We took turns making house dinner weekly, and got creative with things like soup in a bread bowl and upside-down ice cream cones. We had a whiteboard with a running list of topics we wanted to discuss at house meeting, such as “Halloween Party” and, “Where do all the mugs go??”
And my life became *much* more stimulating, exciting, and uplifting than it was when I was living semi-alone.
I am a passionate believer in a higher power that I like to call Life. Long story short, I’ve since collaborated with Life to weave together several more co-living communities, two of which have been here in Los Angeles.
In all cases, there has been a core team, and some original people have dropped out, while new people arrived. In all cases, synchronicities have occurred that made it possible, many of which have happened very last-minute. (I have more to say on this, which I’ll save for later. This will likely end up being a series.)
My point in writing all this isn’t just to outline my experience with co-living but to say the following:
I believe a lot of us are interested in these kinds of projects. Perhaps more than we think. We don’t yet have the structures in place to make it simple or easy, but I take heart in knowing that there is a deep yearning for it.
My visions have also expanded. Many of the co-living communities of which I’ve been a part have been in houses we rented, and were comprised of adults in their 20s, 30s, and 40s. This makes sense, especially when you’re sharing an actual house and kitchen.
But I envision communities where we co-own, with more space/land, and age diversity -- where children and elders are included, too. And I see more structures on site, so people have more room and there’s more opportunity. I dream of co-living communities that are well-run and not just sustainable, but overflowing.
Here are two specific visions of this:
1. Togetherness House, a large house we co-own, where some people live on site, and that also functions as a gathering place. Many of us co-work out of it, and we enjoy each other’s company during the day. There’s also a large pool and deck area where we host outdoor classes. There are home-school classes and happenings on a regular basis. There are swim lessons. We have a number of ways the property generates income for itself.
2. A co-living property with land. I’ve always fantasized about converting a summer camp into this kind of thing, since it already has so many large communal structures in place -- a kitchen and dining room, often a community hall space of some kind, frequently a pool, etc.
I see families and others living in small homes on the property -- the structures that used to be cabins, or new ones that are built for the purpose.
I see a yurt (or several) where healing ceremonies take place.
I see horses that are well taken care of and thriving on riding lessons, but also equine therapy.
Every Friday there’s a community potluck dinner, then a bonfire singalong.
Every Saturday there are things like hula-hoop classes and/or ecstatic dance in the main hall.
Every Sunday, there’s a breathwork session, followed by TRE (Tension Release Exercises) in the main hall.
Community members who don’t live on site either have a subscription “membership” to come to everything, or there’s a sliding scale of tickets, all of which goes to sustaining and, indeed, overflowing the community with resources.
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The advantages of co-living go beyond financial. There are two big ones that I see:
1. It’s a more connected way of life
Millions of people in our modern world now contend with loneliness. Dr. Ruth was just nominated our National Loneliness Ambassador because the health outcomes associated with loneliness are that severe.
I can say for myself that when I’m lonely, I feel a certain quality of desperation and longing, and a vague sense of dissatisfaction. It doesn’t always show up as loneliness (I can’t always identify that that’s what it is), but I always know something is wrong.
One of the best things for me personally about living in community is having built-in connection. When I’ve lived alone or semi-alone, I’ve spent a lot of time and energy organizing and coordinating with others in order to get my connection needs met. In community I don’t have to strive in order to see caring human beings on a daily basis. This makes a HUGE difference in terms of my level of groundedness and well-being.
Loneliness leads to addiction, mental health issues, and more.
Connection leads to wisdom, empathy, joy, fun, and ease.
In a world that’s increasingly disconnected -- you can get groceries delivered; you can work a gig job that has you never interact with coworkers, or you can work from home and have no real face-to-face time with anyone outside of Zoom for days -- I believe that co-living is a solution.
2. It’s supportive of both parents, children, and other adults
As someone who doesn’t have bio children and probably won’t this lifetime, I can attest to the strange pain/split in our culture between folks who are raising children alone (meaning they live alone), and then the certain quality of emptiness in the lives of aunties and uncles.
The parents are often underwater and overwhelmed, trying to do everything themselves, including all the cooking, cleaning, and adulting tasks of normal life, plus child-rearing.
And the aunties and uncles are often lonely, isolated, and disconnected.
I envision communities that bring these two populations together.
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I’m particularly interested in properties with different structures on them. I imagine places where it’s easy to get alone time if you need it, and easy to get connection when you need that. Imagine living in a beautiful small home with a little garden, not far from “The Big House,” where the communal chef (which you can all afford because you’re pooling resources) is making dinner.
You have your own space, and you also have connection.
Now imagine that you’re also committed to working for 10 hours a week on the property -- and that it’s a joy. You *like* weeding, or maintaining the fruit trees, or yes, even scraping the pool bottom of algae because you’re on a small team of folks also doing those things.
It is scientifically proven that when we work together on something -- even if it’s “just” doing the dishes or doing a puzzle, we tend to release both oxytocin and dopamine.
We are meant to work together and collaborate. And again, in our modern world, there are fewer opportunities to do so.
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I don’t know exactly where Life is leading me.
But I know that I have a deep longing, yearning, and dare I say commitment to co-living.
A part of me is nervous to state that “aloud” because I have an equally deep yearning for a love partner.
I long for a man who’s also into these concepts, who also values community, and who is also lit up by the idea of seeing what Life can make possible here.
I picture us being open to what Life brings us, working together and collaborating on this kind of project with open hearts and open minds.
I see the two of us holding hands, facing forward, with others surrounding us.
We are co-creating something meaningful in the world together, and we are soaring.
I also believe, like I said, that there are MANY of us craving something like this.
We don’t know how it will work, or what’s “realistic.”
But I believe that the desire is sacred, and is the beginning.
Speaking up about it is next, which is what I’m doing here.
I’d also like to shout out Radish, the co-living community in Oakland, which has served as a deep source of inspiration to me. They own their property, and have expanded in the past few years. They’ve also just had babies! (Two of the couples literally had the same due date). Their substack, Super-Nuclear -- meaning going beyond the nuclear family -- is excellent. https://supernuclear.substack.com/
There are people already doing this, and even more who want to.
I believe I am part of a larger wave, a greater movement.
I am part of a whole host of human beings who want to see these kinds of communities exist, flourish, and expand.
I am part of a larger destiny.
Perhaps you are, too.