A few days ago I was sitting at the computer trying to come up with a new post. It felt too hard. What if whatever I write isn't good enough?

So I allowed my avoidant parts to take over, and looked around for something easier to do. I started reading through a transcript from a Charles Eisenstein video.

This post was inspired by that video, which Charles titled, "The Transformation is Underway." (It's part of his Sanity Project, which I highly recommend.)

On the stories we live in

Humans are story makers. Our stories (or mythologies) tell us how things work. They give us meaning about things like who we are, what our roles are, how to make a positive impact, what is "normal."

You could say we live "inside" a story, playing a role created for us by our family and culture before we were old enough to examine it and say whether we wanted the role or not.

"Moral failure"

The dominant story of our world is described by Jeremy Lent as having "its roots in ... patriarchy, hierarchy, and empire, and five centuries of European colonialism and oppression that evolved into global capitalism which is a system of extraction, exploitation, and elite wealth accumulation" ¹.

To put it more simply, I could paraphrase Charles Eisenstein and say that the dominant story of the modern world is about "control for the sake of economic progress."

Lent describes the consequences of this story--climate disruption and ecological and social breakdown--as "a collective moral failure."

After reading the post I've just quoted from (which was called Careening Towards a Precipice), I unsubscribed from Jeremy Lent's Substack. Not because I don't agree with his work but because part of me resonates with it a bit too much.

It's temptingly simple to view our situation at this point in time as being the result of "a collective moral failure," because that means that if we all just buck up and become better citizens, living by better morals, we can solve the problem.

Trying to "be good" (and failing)

Jeremy Lent is talking about humanity as a collective, but for us as individuals the idea that humans are "moral failures" can be easy to buy into so deeply that it becomes counter-productive. I'll use myself as an example to illustrate what I mean.

As someone who struggles with a strong inner critic, it's easy for me to take on the bad guy role in this story. If I were a better citizen/parent/consumer, then things would improve. It's somehow my fault, and my responsibility to put right.

And if one expression of the inner critic is to blame oneself, the other is to blame someone else. It's their fault--the corporations, the business interests, the vaxers, the un-vaxers, the people who don't recycle their rubbish--whoever they are who are doing the bad thing.

Either way, whether its "my/our fault" or "their fault," it's somebody's fault and that person/group/nation should be punished and should atone for their sins.

This story can be paralyzing.

In my case, it led to my trying so hard to be a better citizen, and to uphold better morals. I had standards so high, in hindsight, that nobody could have reached them, let alone maintained them.

I was trying to be "a good girl," trying to control every outcome of every choice I made, to make it a "good" outcome.

I also did the other thing -- I lectured my kids and anybody who would listen about how bad everything is, whose fault it is, and how it should be put right. (Yes, still guilty.)

Then (painfully slowly) I began to understand that the more I tried to control everything to make it right, the more I was actually participating in the very story in which I had condemned myself and/or the whole of humanity as a failure.

How's that for a double bind?

The story of modernity: "Control for the sake of progress"

Above, I said that Charles Eisenstein describes our dominant modern story as a story of "control, for the sake of progress." (My interpretation, not necessarily his exact words.)

He says (again I'm paraphrasing):

"For a while, conquering and controlling seemed to be working. Our story of modernity and the story of progress seemed to be bringing benefits. Each generation was better off than the previous one, happier, healthier. It seemed like we were working on our deficiencies too -- the civil rights movement was underway, women's rights, gay liberation, the environmental movement. It seemed that we were going to bring the fruits of our ways to the whole world. That was called 'development' and 'progress.'

Well, now, looking at the levels of poverty, despair, suicide, depression, anxiety, mental illness, chronic disease, domestic abuse, ecocide -- its becoming obvious that the 'story of control and progress' is not working."

When we want to change the story

In my opinion, the most effective thing we can do to make a difference is not whatever work we do in the world around us. It's to turn inwards and work to become conscious of the stories we're participating in and our roles in them.

We can make small changes to our lives by tweaking our existing stories. But a BIG change, to a completely different kind of story where control and force are no longer the only means by which we can make a difference, can't take place from inside the old story.

Before we can make a change that big, we have to step out of the old story and specifically out of our role in it, so that then we can avoid keeping the old story alive by our participation in it.

The sure way we can contribute, regardless of our circumstances

Our role was initially assigned to us before we were old enough to examine it. We may then have continued to reassign it to ourselves, over and over, as adults.

No wonder nothing really changes.

Our work now is to stop, examine the story and our role in it carefully, and consider if this is really what we came here for.

I'm not saying this is easy. It's not. But it is the most effective way we can participate in the process of bringing a new story into being.

It's the one sure way we can contribute that's within our reach regardless of our circumstances.

The space between stories, relaxing the intellect, accessing the heart's wisdom

The phrase, "the space between stories" comes from Charles Eisenstein's work. In the video, Charles says (again I'm paraphrasing and drawing on his other work as well):

"The space between stories does not mean that you just sit there and do nothing. It's a place that you enter and actively participate in the dissolution of the old story-- you let go of your old ways of being and believing, your old understanding of things that might actually be part of the problem."

The dissolution of the old story is necessary to clear space for the new story. This involves sitting in the painful, uncontrollable not-knowing-what-to-do place that we enter when we are finally able to get out of our heads and stop trying to analyze, control, and direct.

So this is the work: the active participation in the dissolution of the old story. It's the work of dropping out of our heads and into our hearts, and holding space for what we find there without trying to fix it, force it, or rush it.

The stories are in our heads. The space between the stories is where we can access the wisdom of the heart.

When we drop down into our bodies and into our hearts, often enough and for long enough, guidance becomes available that's simply not accessible when we're in our heads. 

When you feel like it's all getting worse, not better

One last caveat. This work won't be easy or fun, and it might make things feel like they're getting worse. Your inner critic and your intellectual parts will want you to drop this crap and return to the fray. If you're anything like me, the voices of these parts of you will be relentless and it may feel like you have lost your way.

I very much doubt that you have. 

Apparent insanity on the part of an individual is actually a very healthy response to an insane world. 

Hang in there. You are not as alone as it feels, you are not crazy, and your inner work really matters. It matters to the hurting parts of you, and to the world around you. 

Related reading

• The "space between stories" is a phrase and concept that Charles Eisenstein first described in this essay in 2013. Then, in 2017, he wrote a shorter, more personal essay about how he himself was navigating the space between stories.
  
• To me, the space between stories has parallels to the moment between cycles that holds the wisdom gleaned from the previous cycle and the potentiality of the new one that is about to begin. Read more in this section of "The Dark Moon - Realigning Ourselves with the Rhythm of Life."
• If you related to the section above on Trying to be good (and failing), you might like these posts on the topic of the inner critic: Overwhelm and Anxiety - is this what's triggering them?" and "What You Were Meant to Learn About Mistakes, and what to do if you didn't." 
• In the section above on The story of modernity: "Control for the sake of progress", I wrote how we thought that the story of control and progress seemed to be working because  "each generation was better off than the previous one." I explored that idea a few years ago in "The Seductions of Science and Technology."

Industrial food systems are "extractive"

The industrial food system gives us cheap, convenient food. 

In the process, it damages livelihoods, soil health, eco-system health, bio-diversity, dignity, meaning, purpose and connections².

The industrial food system is like mining -- it extracts something of value and then sells it, without returning anything of value.

Regenerative food growing systems build rather than depleting -- they are "additive"

In contrast, regenerative food systems give us very expensive food, if you measure purely in dollar terms.

But the non-monetary value provided by regenerative food production systems is not measurable³.

What we can do on a small scale

On a small scale, when we add a pot of herbs to a windowsill or gather edible weeds at our doorsteps or participate in a community garden, at least these four things happen to varying degrees:

• we get to eat food that grew right here, that we and/or our neighbors have been intimately involved with -- connections are built and strengthened
• our mental, emotional, and physical health improves 
• there's less waste
• we feel more dignified and more empowered

What happens on a larger scale when we support regenerative agriculture

On a larger scale, when we support farmers and food production systems that measure restoration and regeneration as part of their bottom line there are benefits for:

• livelihoods and community health,
• soil, water, and atmospheric health, 
• eco-system health,
• bio-diversity
• long term food security. 

We Need More hands in the soil 

Of course--I know--real food costs a lot to grow and is harder to afford than cheap food. Real food calls for there to be many, many more people with their hands in the soil. Real food, by definition, can't be produced cheaply. 

For each person who returns their hands to the soil, that's one more pair of hands providing for the closest few mouths, with no waste or destruction and more of all the good things that grow along with real food. 

Solving the food crisis calls for more people, not more technology

We have an ongoing food crisis -- obscene food waste and way too many people (in our own neighborhoods as well as on the other side of the world) with not enough to eat. 

We also have a climate crisis, a desertification crises, a bio-diversity crisis, social crises...

All these crises are connected -- to one another, and to food production. 

Regenerative food production interconnects with healthy, bustling, teeming, vigorous life. Industrial food production, on the other hand, results in disconnection, depletion, exhaustion, and ill health.

The idea that we can fix our food crisis by throwing bigger money, bigger tech, bigger machinery, or more bureaucracy at our food crisis is simply. Wrong.

I believe that in a nutshell, what we need to throw at our food crisis is people.

What kind of people?

They don't have to be smart, rich, or powerful. (In fact it might be better if they're not.) We just need people who care and who like growing food and who understand or are willing to learn some of the principles of regenerative agriculture, such as the Permaculture principle of "small and slow solutions."

The full moon is the moment in the lunar cycle of peak light, peak energy, peak everything (like the Summer Solstice in the annual solar cycle).

Before electricity, the full moon was when communities held celebrations because you could see all night long.

Also before electricity, the full moon was the friend of anyone whose work took them outside at night -- because you didn't have to stumble around in the dark. Obstacles were clearly revealed.

We're less in touch with the lunar cycle now that we don't rely on the moon to light our nighttime activities, but metaphorically speaking, the full moon can still "illuminate" what we need to "see more clearly" in our lives.

The full moon is a good time for acknowledging the good things

The full moon is an excellent time for celebrations. Take a moment while the energy is peaking, to count your blessings and acknowledge and celebrate your strengths, commitments, good intentions, and accomplishments. 

Cant find any? For three days in a row over the full moon period, in your journal or on a piece of paper, write:

"I'm grateful for [...].

"I acknowledge [...]"

(Not sure what to acknowledge? Pick something good about you, something you've achieved, or even just something you haven't given up on. It gets easier with practice.)

And finally, write

"I want [...]" 

(Acknowledging our desires, especially the ones we don't want to admit to, is a way of honoring them -- which is much healthier and kinder than ignoring or suppressing them⁵. 

The full moon illuminates what's standing in our way  

Sometimes it feels hard to find much to celebrate, or any authentic desires.

Sometimes all I see at the full moon is obstacles. Frustration. Flare-ups of difficult patterns that just keep hanging on no matter how hard I try to shake them off.

The full moon brings a kind of "peak illumination" to whatever needs our attention. Whatever we've been avoiding addressing in our lives.

"What is obvious--fully illuminated--in my life right now?" is a question I ask as the full moon approaches⁶.

"What is most intense, obvious, or compelling; what is demanding my attention right now?"

"What am I compelled to notice?"

Don't be discouraged if all you see is obstacles. Obstacles present themselves to us more clearly and insistently when we're ready to resolve them.

Until then, they hide in the shadows. We stumble over them, we know they're there, but we don't see them clearly until we're ready to resolve them.

When we're ready, when we "see" clearly--not before--the insight, teacher, support, or resources we need show up. The situation resolves itself, one way or another. (Maybe not comfortably.) 

Our job in the meantime is to pay attention.

Right now, give your full attention to whatever feels intense in your life as this full moon approaches. Feel what you've been avoiding feeling. 

Where is it in your body? Does it have a colour? A shape? A texture? How might a small child describe it?

Identify how it feels in your body to be so blocked, miserable, frustrated, whatever. Be with it to whatever degree feels do-able for you right now. 

Take a long, deep, slow breath into the part of your body where you feel the sensations. Slower. Deeper. 

Then let your breath out.

Slowly.

Even slower.

Keep breathing out until your lungs are empty, and then breath out a bit more.

Do that three times: breathe into the sensations; breathe out slowly and completely. Make your out breath longer than your in breath.

Sometimes it helps to hum as you breathe out. Tunefully or not, it doesn't matter. When I hum, I sound like a drone or a bumble bee⁷.

Now. Now, you're paying attention.

And when you're paying attention (as opposed to just coping) you're more likely to recognize the help you need when it shows up (in whatever form it comes).

Related reading 

What will the Full Moon Reveal for You?

Even when I feel resistance to the way things are turning out, even when I'm face down on the floor kicking and screaming while things are turning out the way they are, I know I'm likely to look back later and say:

"Oh. NOW I see that the way it turned out was ok after all."

Often with the perspective of hindsight I even see that it had to be that way, and I see why.

And each time I benefit from hindsight in this way, it adds a fiber to my capacity to trust the present moment.

After so many times of seeing in the rear view mirror that the way things unfolded was for the purpose of my growth and the well-being of the Whole (as opposed to being for my own personal short-term comfort), I've come to expect that that's what I'll see when I look back. 

Which enables me to face or even embrace pain and discomfort in the present moment with a bit more faith that this doesn't mean "Life sucks and then you die."

To me, it means something more like "Life can be intensely uncomfortable (as can childbirth, for example) and then through the discomfort comes growth or treasure you couldn't have imagined or comprehended before the pain and discomfort broke you open and made you bigger."

You know how the best ideas show up when we're relaxed?

When you're in the shower, or just as you wake up, or while you're walking the dog or playing with the kids... that's when the solutions to our problems often present themselves, as if out of no-where.

I believe that's because in those relaxed, unguarded moments we allow our hearts to open a little, which makes it possible for some kind of connection to open up between our individual selves and the World around us. 

For me, the experience of receiving needed inspiration in this way illustrates an important truth -- that when I manage to relax and reconnect, I find that the World has my back.

This post explores a related idea: that it's our responsibility to stay connected to the World (or to Source, whatever that means for you) and that when we take care of staying connected, Everything else takes care of itself.

Not that it necessarily takes care of itself the way we think it should... But I find that even (sometimes especially) when I feel HUGE resistance to the way things are turning out, I'm likely to look back with the benefit of hindsight and see why the way it turned out was ok after all. 

An Intelligent World

In giving World a capital w and Everything a capital E, I'm borrowing from Menstruality educator Alexandra Pope: 

The idea of an intelligent World, of Earth as relational, and of our sacred responsibility for maintaining our relationship with it, is as old as humanity. It's an idea I find deeply, reliably, comforting.

The emphasis in the quote above is mine. The only thing the World leaves up to us is our connection to it.

I'm not saying it's easy -- I know from painful personal experience that it's not. But the concept is simple, and I'll repeat it again: when we take responsibility for staying connected and open, Everything else takes care of itself.

When we forget and allow our hearts to close, when we break off the connection, everything falls apart, nothing works -- and that's when we find ourselves grappling with difficult emotional states like anxiety, overwhelm, frustration -- which are really just trying to prompt us to reconnect.

In my case, what happens when I lose the connection is that--like so, so many other midlife women and plenty of men too--I can't sleep.  

What happens when we lose the connection

Insomnia is a thing in my life. I know it so intimately, I can feel as I'm heading for bed whether my brain and nervous system are expressing "I feel afraid," or, "I feel safe" -- and that dictates how much sleep I'll get.

For me, fear expresses as insomnia. But insomnia (or insert your particular variation of fear-driven, dis-regulated, disconnected, emotional or psycho-spiritual discomfort) is only a symptom of a deeper malady.

We modern people are--as Stephen Jenkins⁸ puts it--like orphans. We've lost our connections, forgotten how to stay connected, and come un-moored in the World. 

We've been displaced--and have displaced others--so often that we've lost touch with the earth, each other, our ancestors, where we came from, and how the World and the web of Life can (must) be renewed and restored with every act of giving and receiving.

Everything is fraying and coming undone, including--especially--our own inner worlds, which are mirrored by the outer world. 

Disconnection, fragmentation, and isolation are the fruits of a culture that values "me" over "we," economic growth over relationships. 

Two worldviews - a hostile vs a friendly Universe

In the trailer for the film The Eternal Song, activist and ceremonial leader Pat McCabe says,

What I understand her to be saying there is that the darker-skinned First Peoples⁹ of the World know themselves to be a part of, and in relationship to, the beauty that surrounds them. They understand themselves to be part of a friendly Universe. 

In contrast, the waves of lighter-skinned people who displaced the First Peoples (who were ourselves displaced earlier in a domino game of displacement that goes WAY back), understood themselves to be isolated, disconnected individuals, alone in a hostile Universe. 

According to Albert Einstein, that's an important distinction to understand... 

In my family of origin, the Universe was most definitely viewed as hostile. There are tightly held and very limiting beliefs coded into my operating system that developed in a matrix of hostility, fear, and apathy.

Hence the insomnia (I'm obviously simplifying and abbreviating, but that's basically the gist of it). 

Luckily, we don't have to accept the operating systems we were given by our families or circumstances of origin. We can examine them and re-write them. I'm working on re-writing mine with my new belief that we live in a friendly Universe. 

I say "working on" because the idea that I'm an insignificant, fundamentally broken, isolated fragment adrift in a hostile environment is obviously still in place as far as the parts of me that govern sleep are concerned. It's a work in progress.

Here's Albert Einstein again, basically saying the same thing Pat McCabe said above...

All is well

Along with having come to the conclusion that ours is a friendly Universe, I also believe that the Intelligence that Orchestrates it does not make mistakes. 

Which can only mean that the experience I'm having is serving some purpose other than for me to be well-rested.

My reflections so far lead me to believe that I'm being invited, night after night, to pay attention, to turn inward, to look unflinchingly at what I see. To open my heart and practice compassion and courage -- towards and for myself.

Which in turn, progressively as I practice, allows me to move towards a little more openness and connection with the World around me. 

When I can stay open and honest, I feel safe and I sleep well.

When I'm unable to stay open or I continue to live a lie, I feel afraid and alone and...

Well, you know how that goes. Because you too know what it's like to lie awake while your mind runs around disconnected and unable to come home, unable to land in your body and sink into the ocean of peace that is openness and connection.

But every time I give those limiting, fear-based beliefs another re-run, I watch what's happening. I still can't stop myself from re-running that obsolete program (yet), but I can bring awareness to it.

Awareness -- the witnessing presence -- is the portal out of the prison that Einstein mentioned above, into the peace and freedom of relationship with the World. (That is, in my current understanding -- which is always up for review and further iteration.)

So. No matter how dark the night, sooner or later dawn comes and I look back with the power of hindsight and am reminded that the World has my back, that I am more than I was told I was, and that so long as I maintain a sincere intention to be open to what the World requires of me, Everything else will take care of itself in its own good time.

No one person can meet all of another person's needs. We need a village not just to raise a child but also to raise ourselves, be ourselves, heal ourselves, and see into the depths of ourselves.

(The closest one person does come to meeting all of another's needs is in the relationship between a mother and her new-born, the "mamatoto¹⁰.  But even a mama--especially a mama--needs the support of her family, and her family needs a village.)

So what is a "village," and why does every human being need one?

What is a village?

My definition of a healthy "village" in a modern context is a group of people who work together to meet each other's psychological needs.

Ideally, our village would consist of families -- parents and children, and also uncles, aunties, grandparents, and friends - all the diversity and treasure of the human experience. In various times and places, our village members would also work together to meet each other's needs for food, shelter, etc, in a reciprocal ways that build and cement relationships.

Sadly, a village now rarely includes of all these different age groups. And the growth economy has replaced the need for us to rely on one another for our practical needs. So, we just have to build our villages with what we have.

But a village is not a nuclear family.

A village is not a couple.

It is not two friends.

It is also not a small group of close friends, although that's a step in the right direction.

And why do we need one?

We're all familiar with the saying, "it takes a village to raise a child." We know that the needs of babies, children, and adolescents are beyond what parents alone can meet. That's all obvious, especially if you're a parent.

But I think there's a gap in our understanding that we--each of us as human beings--need a "village" whether or not we have children.

There's an assumption in our culture that a couple, or two close friends, can be everything for each other. In my opinion that simply is not true.

To begin to illustrate why, here's a personal story about my past tendency to put myself in situations that invariably led to what felt like a betrayal of trust. 

What happens when we try to make one person into a village

I said "felt like," because in the experiences I'm thinking of, my friends had no intention of betraying my trust. The situations I got myself into came about because without realizing I was doing it, I had tried to make a single friend into an entire village.

I had a pattern of doing what Kelly Brogan calls "looking for eggs at the hardware store" -- going looking for unconditional love and support where it isn't available.

I'm sure you can guess how that went.

A healthy village can meet most needs

I've come to the conclusion that it's neither possible nor desirable for one person to love another unconditionally and without boundaries (duh)¹¹.

But a village full of people is another matter entirely. A healthy village can nourish the hungriest of hearts¹².

In simple terms, this is possible because different members of the village can be available unconditionally by turns. When one person is offline or needy or temporarily dysfunctional because their own shadow material--their own unmet needs--have been triggered, somewhere else in the village there is another person who is fully present in this moment and able to step into the gap. 

When there are enough stable and resourced adults in a community to meet the practical needs (childcare, logistics, etc) and the mental/emotional/spiritual support that people need from each other, everything gets so much easier.

Good villages are hard to find

I read Jean Liedloff's The Continuum Concept when my first child was a baby. That's when I first began to understand what a village is and why I needed one. I spent the next 7 years searching for my "tribe," and you probably don't need me to tell you that good tribes can be very hard to find. 

Eventually I found the homeschooling community that my family and I have now been part of for around 10 years, but even then I continued to struggle with feeling lonely and unsupported for many more years.

The reason for that had to do with my assumption that once I found a village -- tadah!! all my problems would be solved.

Alas, it doesn't work like that. The reason that good tribes (or villages) are hard to find is because actually you don't find them, so much as build them. And you build them from the inside out.

Because the thing is that even if a village already exists for you to find it (and that's rare enough), you still bring yourself--your patterns and burdens--along with you. And that affects your experience of a village, whether it existed before you came along or not.

What we, as adults, receive from the village reflects what we bring to it

The function of a village in caring for babies and children is to meet their needs, no strings attached and no debt accrued. 

But adults both receive from and give to the village. We need a village in order to experience the connection that all humans need to thrive, and, as adults, we are the village. 

There's a paradox here: we are the village for each other, and for ourselves. The better we are at showing up for ourselves, being our own internal village, the better equipped we are to find/build and participate in/help maintain an external village.

The more we can give to ourselves, the more we'll have to give to others

Dr Kristin Neff, researcher and author on the topic of Self-Compassion, says

What do you need, right now? Can you give yourself a small dose, even a micro-dose, of what you need?

I know. You can't drop everything and go on holidays. But you can (for example) put your hands on your heart (or one on your belly and the other on your heart) and take 30, 60, or 90 seconds to just. be. with. whatever you find inside there.

If, while you're doing that, you find yourself wanting to sigh, yawn, fidget, lash out, numb out, cry, or hurry to do something else -- you'll know that that micro-dose of care and attention was sorely needed.

This is how you build a village.

Or perhaps it's how you lay the foundation for a village.

Whatever. 

The point is that a village is made up of people who can behave like adults at least some of the time -- and you can't do that (at least, not consistently) unless you're pretty good at putting your own oxygen mask on first before trying to help others.

Putting on your own oxygen mask means being able to turn inwards to be with your child parts when they need you. It means giving the same unconditional love, acceptance, and support that you would give to a child in your village, to the child inside you. Even (especially) when s/he is face down on the floor, kicking and screaming.

Learning how to identify and meet your own internal needs does not feel natural at first to anyone who has grown up in our culture. It's hard. But it's worth it. YOU are worth it.

And self-compassion practices gradually work to stabilize you internally¹³. so that as time goes by you'll have more to give externally.

***

So much for the unseen, inner work. What about the practical, external stuff?

Three practical village building tips

In "Finding Your Tribe," Teresa Pitman says that once you've found at least one other adult with whom to begin building your tribe (or village) there are three rules of thumb that will help:

• spend a good deal of time together
• work together 
• try not to be too picky

Here's some of what she had to say about each of these (edited for brevity):

Sometimes it just feels SO HARD

Things like time constraints, geographic isolation, lack of resources, or cultural barriers are all really good reasons why it might just feel impossible to build or access a village.

I know firsthand some of the barriers to meaningful connection that can seem utterly impassible. My childhood was so isolating, on so many levels, that loneliness was the air I breathed until long after my children were born. It was only when I looked at their childhoods and realized I wanted something different for them, that I recognized how lonely I was.

From the time I realized I needed one, it took me nearly 7 years to find a village. We moved across the world and then from one end of Queensland (Australia) to the other end, to set up house in an area that had a large, long-running homeschooling and LETS¹⁴ community. The only reason we moved to where we live today was to avail ourselves of the support we knew would be available in those two groups. 

So, we "found a ready made village." Tadah!

Well.

As a parent, the homeschooling community certainly helped me give my kids a better deal from the first time I attended one of the get-togethers.

But for me personally it took many more years to begin to feel that the hungriest inner parts of me were being nourished by the group -- and that didn't begin to happen until after I began to learn ways of effectively tending to my inner needs myself, first.

Don't wait to be rescued before you begin giving yourself the care and attention you need from others 

The moral of the story is this: don't make dramatic life changes or wait years before (or instead of) beginning to give yourself the care, attention, and support that you're longing to receive from others.

We made our big moves for a variety of reasons. The location we ended up choosing had to do with finding community, and I have no regrets at all about the choice we made. But it's still a work in progress.

Finding a community is one thing. Learning both how to serve, and also how to receive support from, a community is another. This is the work of adults--to serve and to receive--and it's ongoing. 

For me, in spite of finding a large, long running, like minded community "ready made" for our family, it didn't look like working out until after I finally began to learn to address what was going on inside of me rather than fruitlessly hoping for someone from outside of me to come along and rescue me. 

Only you can know if you need to pursue dramatic life changes in order to find your village, but I do have a suggestion: before you do anything drastic, think long and hard about the probability that if you take your inner dynamics with you, unchanged, you'll likely find the same external dynamics recurring in your new location or relationships as you were experiencing in the previous ones. 

The paradox of the village-building process

This is the paradox of the village-building process. The better we are at building our internal village, the more we can contribute to an external village that in turn helps us raise our children and ourselves.

I remember at least three occasions while my children were young, of being approached by other mothers of young children who were as lonely and needy as I was. My heart went out to them because I knew what they were going through, but I was unable to help them. A drowning person cannot help another drowning person.

So by all means reach out for the help you need. But don't wait any longer to begin your village building internally with self-care and self-compassion, in micro-doses if necessary, and to seek help if you need to.

In my experience, when the Universe (or God, or whatever you want to call It) sees you building a village internally, your prayer for an external village will then be taken seriously. After the internal village building is underway you'll begin to experience the synchronicities and opportunities that can to lead you toward your external village.

Related reading here on A Real Green Life

Where Am I Locating Power – Inside or Outside of Me?

Reconnecting Can Change Everything

The Power of Hindsight

Resources

Self-compassion for parents - PeacefulParentHappyKids.com

Self-compassion for everyone - Self-Compassion.org

Self-help for everyone using energy psychology (also sometimes called "Tapping" or "EFT"¹⁵)  - EnergyTapping.com 

Basic/beginner EFT (Emotional Freedom Technique) instructions and resources - EFTUniverse.com ¹⁶

Tapping: Self-Healing with the Transformative Power of Energy Psychology, a book by David Feinstein PhD and Donna Eden

Support for adults impacted by crappy childhoods - CrappyChildhoodFairy.com (she has lots of great YouTube videos, webinars, and a book, with another book on the way)

Finding Your Tribe, an article by Teresa Pitman

In the Absence of the Village, Mothers Struggle Most, an article by Beth Berry