How To Save Us: Unclenched Fists & Breaking Bread
This is What I Know About Community
I’ve been craving more community lately. Feeling a little alone at this time in my life. I was remembering and reminding myself of the gifts we get when we are in community, when we feel we belong. Decided to follow these feelings, and write this way this week. I hope it resonates and I hope that you too, have had the pleasure and gift, of feeling welcomed into true community.
What do I know about community?
I know that hands open when we are in it.
Hands that were once clenched – fists of fingers and worry – begin to open and ease.
Hands tell stories, and so do fists.
This place I speak of, these people?
Open hands are offered.
I know that some of you might say: Not me.
You might say: Not me, I don’t know them or trust them, and I am fine on my own. But what you are envisioning, is not a community.
It is not where real community resides.
What do I know about community?
I know that doors are open and minds are, too.
People enter it, both barefoot, and well-adorned, and the ground is safe and even for everyone.
No shards of glass or even sharp words. Barefoot, bejeweled and bringers of possibility enter, and they pull up a chair, or offer one freely.
What do I know about community?
I know that we loosen. Our bodies relax
and the stance of wariness shifts slightly to surety,
to a kind of peace.
A willingness arises, to awaken and listen,
taking the tales that are told
(sometimes in words we don’t know),
into our hearts, and maybe our homes,
as we recognize the timbre and tone,
because they are our stories, too.
Stories we were told, at night’s sleepy end
by mamas and grandpas and aunties, with kisses.
Tales told in books with worn edges and
folded-down pages,
and ones told around tables,
of losses and journeys and myths set in stone.
What do I know about community? It lifts us.
It lifts us.
We rise because we are carried
by all hands, by shared might.
We rise because we are more together, and a force together, that says:
Together,
we will carry on, withstand, support and endure.
It’s not just one heart, it’s many.
And not just one home, it’s a village.
What do I know about community?
It’s where we grow. Our roots are there.
Our home is there, wherever we live.
It’s where, when planted, we receive what we need.
Our delicate tendrils search on for renewal:
The nourishment of each other and a place just for us.
Alone, we’ll not thrive.
We’ll wither.
Just as we need water and sun and shelter and food,
we need others. Each other.
We require this.
We need this.
And in the soil that is rich for our planting, our growing,
we find each other, stronger and sturdier, to:
turn to for help,
look to for advice,
reach for in grief,
hold onto in fear,
shelter in cold,
exalt with in dance,
laugh with in joy,
connect with through smiles,
mourn with in heartbreak,
debate with in curiosity,
hope with in uncertainty,
dream with in possibility,
be with in camaraderie.
What do I know about community?
A lot more than I’d know without it.
Breaking bread and sharing stories
cannot be done alone.
And breaking bread and sharing stories tell us we are home.
Gayle Beavil
Thanks so much for reading. Are you longing for community, or are you already fortunate enough to have a community or two where you feel you truly belong? I’d love to hear about it in the comments if you feel like sharing.
Also, if you like my content and to be inspired and reminded that there is still some light in the world right now, my podcast, “LOVE SWEET LOVE” might be something you want to listen to. I highlight ideas, innovators and initiatives that are growing good and spreading love in the world. Good is always the top story, there. This week I am featuring Stoop Stories, a NYC org that connects neighbours across age and differences through story sharing, community events and the revitalization of stoop culture.