discover community

No matter our experiences or how we identify, we’ve all been a part of—or apart from—a community at some point. However universal or unique our experiences with community may be, the term as its commonly used has gained many meanings through its uses over time. Especially now, with how segmented our “communities” have become in a post-2020-world, I often question: how can we be on the same page about what we really mean when we say “community?” 

community disconnect

In the years that led to founding the Bloom Local project, I was a member of circles, casts, trainings, cohorts, teams, classes, groups, a family, a neighborhood, a choir…the list of ways I could identify with a physical or interest-based community were somewhat limitless—what a beautiful thing! And still, my sense of belonging waxed and waned. I remember times—heck I still have them—where I am seemingly being surrounded by community, or perhaps at a literal event advertised as a “community event,” and still feel alone, apart, separate. Wasn’t “community” about feeling connected to people? 

If you’ve felt this way, you’re not alone! There are so many things that prevent us from connecting in ways that feel genuinely great. For one, we’re still living in a pandemic, and isolation is still really big for a lot of folx. Also, we may simply have different definitions of what “community” is, or how actual connection happens within communities, making it really difficult to meet each other in the same place. 

gentle self-inquiry: 

What do I mean when I refer to “my community?”

How might my understanding of the term “community” be shaping the spaces I am a part of? 

defining true community

image description: crayon mind-map by luc abbott including green words on a white paper background: self + community, care + healing, queer spaces, biz practices + models, liberation, bloom local, creative emergence/expression.

Scholars, thinkers, activists, and artists agree: we’re at a unique, perhaps pivotal point in shaping our future where the choices we make now about how we are going to connect with one another now will inform this next chapter of our existence. Yet looking back, how we connect and relate has always been core to our survival as humans and cultures.

In their book, A Queer Dharma, Queer and Trans Yoga Teacher and writer Jacoby Ballard describes the “vicarious resilience” we can experience in community: 

“We see it in public spaces, such as a subway car when one person gives up a seat for an elder or pregnant woman and other people follow suit, caring for strangers. Vicarious resilience is seen in social movements, which is part of what makes being in movement so powerful—witnessing you being strong, caring, or courageous makes me stronger, more caring, more courageous. We see vicarious resilience in community spaces, such as at Black Yoga Teachers Alliance conferences or in Queer and Trans Yoga. As a single finger, we are easily broken, but as a fist, we are strong. Vicarious resilience is part of why targeted people build strong communities: our survival depends on it.” 

I had the joy and priviledge of studying with Jacoby when he was my instructor at Adhikara Yoga School in 2017, and their beautiful descriptions of vicarious resilience gave me inspiration back then to imagine the kind of community member I wanted to be. Looking back, I was just starting to discover that true community would be based on a sense of care and responsibility held for the collective, and our ability to support one another, while still honoring our individual needs. Now, I hold this concept with gravity as I think about the experiences already shared in community at The Bloomery: spontaneous birthday celebrations, folx showing up for friends at art openings, shared laughter, and many deep (masked) breaths. And, we have just barely begun this journey of holding spaces and building platforms.  

imagining in community

In the future-building work of nonfiction, Emergent Strategy (2017), revolutionary thinker Adrienne Maree Brown writes about the importance of “emergence” in late-stage capitalism: 

“It is so important that we fight for the future, get into the game, get dirty, get experimental. How do we create and proliferate a compelling vision of economies and ecologies that center humans and the natural world over the accumulation of material? We embody. We learn. We release the idea of failure, because it’s all data. But first we imagine.” 

Inspired by visionaries like Brown and others, I see our Bloom Local business community imagining new ways every day, getting experimental in their innovation, and getting into the game of truly caring for individuals in how they do the amazing work they do. I see the “fight for the future” reflected in the 2023 Business Guide, and in my discussions with my entrepreneurial peers, and it gives me great hope—there’s the vicarious resilience Jacoby speaks about.

gentle self-inquiry:

If we think about a community as a web of relationships vs. a place or population, how might we relate/live/create/thrive differently? 

Has this inquiry sparked any new awareness as you interact in community spaces?

As I navigate the processes of embodiment, learning, and release (as Brown suggests) alongside the growth of the Bloom Local project, I am guided deeper into true community. Knowing that it won’t happen without collective imagining, support, and collaboration, I invite you to imagine your own true community and seek it out in ways that feel right to you in the year ahead.


works cited / further reading

Jacoby Ballard, A Queer Dharma: Yoga and Meditations for Liberation (Linked for purchase on IndieBound)

adrienne maree brown, Emergent Strategy: Shaping Change, Changing Worlds (Linked for purchase at AK Press)

(not affiliate links)

written by

Luc Abbott

Luc Abbott (he/they) is a holistic marketing specialist supporting nonprofit organizations, small businesses, and community partnerships in the Pioneer Valley and beyond. Luc is also the founder of the Bloom Local project and owner-curator of The Bloomery Art Gallery & Meeting Place. Outside of work, Luc spends time practicing and teaching Yoga, and enjoys long wanders through the forests of Hadley with their partner and dogs.

Previous
Previous

Planting Seeds of Self-Care