The Kind of Connection I Want

I’ve been in a season of isolation for a while.

Some of it wasn’t really a choice.

When my brain is overloaded, my world gets smaller. And as I’ve navigated returning to work, I’ve had to be careful about what I commit myself to because I don’t always know what my body and brain will allow when the day actually arrives.

There’s something vulnerable about making plans when you know you might have to cancel them.

So staying home became easier.

Earlier in the week, my friend Kiri asked if I wanted to plan a walk together. And I said yes.

Even knowing there was a possibility that when the day came, I might not have the capacity for it.

I think part of being able to say yes was knowing that if I did need to cancel, it would be okay. There wasn’t pressure attached to the plan. We would walk if we could. And if we couldn’t, there would be another day.

Turns out, I could.

We walked through the woods talking about life, healing, spirituality, the things we’re figuring out and the things we definitely haven’t figured out yet.

We laughed. A lot.

And then we sat beside a pond for probably half an hour and just talked.

There was no agenda. Nobody was trying to fix anything. There was a natural reciprocity to the conversation. We could talk about something deep and meaningful one minute and be laughing our asses off the next.

And sitting there, I realized how much I had missed connection.

Not necessarily the connection I had before.

Connection that fits who I am now.

Because I don’t think I want to leave all of the old things behind. I still want some of those things. I just experience them through a different lens now.

I still want the bonfire.

But now I imagine the fire with music, intention, conversation, ceremony and laughter.

I want connection with people who are growing too. People who are willing to talk about the messy parts of healing and becoming.

People who don’t necessarily have it figured out but are willing to sit together while we figure some of it out.

And as Kiri and I talked, we realized how difficult those spaces can sometimes be to find.

How often do we see an event that interests us and think, I’d love to go to that… but I don’t have anyone to go with?

How many of us are moving through some kind of transition, healing, spiritual growth or change and wishing we had people nearby who understood?

I know Kiri and I aren’t the only ones.

And I think that’s part of why I feel so drawn to bringing Coming Home to Yourself to life.

Because there are people looking for each other.

There are people craving community that feels intentional and meaningful while still leaving room for laughter and fun.

There are people moving through something who don’t necessarily need someone to fix it.

Maybe they just need someone willing to sit beside them at the pond.

I don’t know exactly what the community part of Coming Home to Yourself will become yet.

I’m allowing that to unfold in its own time.

But I know what I hope to help create.

Spaces where we can find one another.

Spaces where we can show up as we are.

Spaces where we can connect while we’re becoming whoever we’re becoming next.

Reflection Question
Has the kind of connection you need changed as you’ve grown? What would meaningful community look and feel like for you in this season of your life?