THE TRIBE

"I want to be seen, to be known, to feel a part of a caring community."  "I'm afraid to show my true self; I'm afraid of rejection; I'm afraid I'll screw up and people won't like me."

With these two competing heart sentiments, The Tribe was born.   We are embarking on a Grand Experiment -- forming an intentional community of adults who are seeking intimacy in friendship.
Looking back, the way we came together was an organic accident.  Among the group are those who felt adrift after the loss of our church home (lots of words already typed about the "Great Unraveling"); those who still go to that church but are seeking a deeper connection in community; those with no connection there, but wanting something "more", something "different" in friendship.

We got together to eat.  People love to gather around a meal and this group has some creative and passionate cooks and eaters!  Food, laughter, and lively conversation led some of us to ask...could we be more than a supper club?  Hub and I have experience in facilitating groups.  We offered to lead a discussion where we would vision what we might create together.  Each person talked about what they want (connection) and what might hold them back from getting it (fear).   We talked about what we might do together -- meet regularly, eat, laugh, make music and art, take trips, do good in the world through social and political action.  Sometimes these out-in-the-world activities would include the whole group and sometimes a subset of the group, whoever wanted to join in.   No pressure; just an invitation.

Several months into this, we twelve have grown closer, shared the ups and downs, joys and challenges of life.  We've taken risks in revealing our true selves.  We've laughed and cried together.  We've shared our life stories -- where we came from and what formed us, what significant events contributed to who we've become, and how we might want to change our story for the next chapter of our lives.  We are between 50 and 80 years in age.  Some still work, some are retired, some have children and grandchildren, some don't.  Some are excited about the next phase of life, some confused and fearful.  We live within no more than about 20 minutes driving distance of each other.  We rotate our monthly gatherings in each other's homes, everyone contributing to a meal and then an extended and facilitated time of "circling up" to check in on what's happening in each other's lives, how we're feeling, maybe discuss a topic that helps peel another layer of emotional armor from our hearts.  Sometimes we include singing, chanting, or meditating, or do a gentle qigong movement practice to get us out of our chairs.  We are exploring what it means to be spiritual beings on a human journey, or, simply human.

We are mostly in awe at this point that this experiment has become an important place of community and connection.   We set an intention with a vision and with a willingness to commit to each other.  We show up, physically, intellectually, emotionally, and spiritually.

We know that this tender beginning needs nurturing and care, so we've decided to be a "closed group" for now at least and maybe always.  We'll see.  We are still forming.  In fact, we've been a bit secretive, worrying that others may feel we are a clique.  It is not our intention to be separate, but it is our intention to protect the safety we've created with each other.  Yet, hiding this joyful enterprise doesn't feel honest or authentic to me.  So with a warning to the group that I might do so at some point, I am writing about it today.

My offer to anyone interested in forming a similar group is that I (and Hub and maybe others of us), would be willing to mentor others in doing something similar.  Is your heart longing for connection?  Are you willing to be vulnerable enough to open yourself to learning a different way of communicating, a different way of being with people that goes beyond small talk?  Are you ready to know yourself better, change what you want to change, celebrate that which needs celebrating and take a journey of the soul with another?

Then gather 'round the hearth with something good to eat, a smile, a tear, and a warm hug and dive in.  In these times of discord, it helps to have a Tribe.

At least, that's the view from here....©

INNER ADVENTURING

We got together with a bunch of dear, good friends on Saturday night.  We call ourselves "The Tribe".  It was a potluck gathering full of amazingly good food, lighthearted conversation, and lots of laughter.   Over dinner the conversation went in the direction of people sharing tales of their outdoor adventures -- the things they love to do, where they've done them, where they hope to do more of it.  Hiking, biking, camping, snorkeling, scuba diving, kayaking, skiing, snowboarding, boating; travels done or hoped for in the US, Europe, South America, Central America, SE Asia, China, India.

Regular readers of my blog will know how quiet I could have been during this conversation.   I do not particularly like outdoor adventuring, nor traveling.  This puts me in a club of severely limited membership in the Pacific Northwest where passions for these things seem to be a given.  (I fit with the bookstore/coffee shop crowd, who also are a common sight here, but most are just stopping by there in between adventures.)

In order to participate in the conversation, I joined in with my usual self-deprecating jokiness about my lack of Adventuring Gene, with a throw-away, dismissive comment aimed at myself about all of the things they love as something I would never do.  It was funny.  I laughed.  Everyone laughed.  I knew I was violating my therapist's admonition about putting myself down, but I thought I had a good handle on it.  Still, I ended up feeling like the "odd" woman out and not altogether great about it.  But not terrible either.  I thought I'd pulled it off.

Later in the evening the conversation took a turn toward touching on "the divorce".  Not mine and Hub's, but mine with my church.  (Again, I've written about this before, so I won't go into the details here, suffice to say, we split up last August.)  It has been a hard ten months since we parted.  Many don't understand why, many don't care, some hope we will reconcile, almost none understand the depth of hurt and introspection that has gone into diving deep inside myself to figure out how it happened, where I was culpable in the conflict, how we all might have behaved differently, whether I made the right decision, and why I cannot go back to a "partner" I still see as a bit dysfunctional, and with whom I have less and less in common...or at least not a common vision.  I'm trying to move on and find connections in a new and healthier way.   There ended up being maybe a teeny tiny bit of passion around expressing this at the social gathering.  I may have used the "F" word.

Debriefing with Hub the next morning, I allowed that I still seem to have a lot of pain and anger around the divorce and I need to do some more inner work to heal that negativity.  I said that the way I live my inner life, with my constant rumination, seeking to understand situations, other people, and mostly myself on a deep level are every bit as hard as climbing a mountain trail, dammit!  My "adventures" are of an internal nature!

The analogy struck a chord with me.  I realized I have nothing to feel inferior about, nothing to apologize for, if I don't do the "nature challenge" others so enjoy.  My challenges come in the form of deep personal work and the summit I am aiming for is increased self-knowledge, inner peace, compassion and "capital L" Love.

Feeling inspired, I sat down and wrote this poem:

THE ADVENTURER

I ford the river of tears

Climb from the depths of despair

Stumble over jagged rocks of doubt

Lose my way

Each step forward a small victory

Each boot stuck in a muddy rut another defeat

Clouds gather, burst

Cold sleet runs down my neck, chilling me to the bone

Will I ever see the sun?  Hear the birdsong?

Look up at a sky so blue, so clear that all pain is lost in its vast expanse?

I keep the vision close to my heart, the possibility of healing, the promise of joy.

One more step forward, one more slide back, heart muscles aching, breath ragged.

It is a lonely journey, the curved path treacherous, ascent steep

I long for sleep, for rest, for peace

It comes in welcome respite ‘round the night fires

Where other faces emerge from the dark, brother traveler, sister wanderer

Stirring the dying embers, finding warmth, feeling strength return

Awake to another day on the trail ahead

Perhaps this is the day

Perhaps this is the hour

Perhaps this is the moment 

When the summit is reached 

And all the world will lay below me

Dazzling like the jewel that is my life

To live, to love, to be.

****

You take the outer journey, I'll take the inner.  I'll meet you where our paths converge.

At least, that's the view from here...©