The Collapose CXCIII: Building Community

23 November 20XX+1

My Dear Lucilius:

Community is hard.

I have been spared the pains of trying to start a community from scratch for most of my life – and by “community” I mean any group which shares an interest or a cause. Most of the “communities” I belonged to were already in existence: I joined, did my part, and then eventually wandered away either by loss of interest or the benign neglect that comes from a society whose relationships are as much remote as they are in-person. In fact, by the time I moved here other than a few long distance friendships (including yours), I was largely “out” of circulation.

Which was fine by me. Given the death of my wife and my slow separation from so many others, not being actively involved in anything suited my position in life.

Now, of course, there is a need to have 50 odd people come together as a community.

On the bright side, the group that has coalesced has some positive aspects that many other groups do not have. They all know each other to a greater or lesser extent. They have all been in this area for some years (or more) and so many of the typical challenges are already known by them – and simply by living in this part of the world, they all have initiative and common sense.

The challenge, as it is manifesting itself, is learning to think as a community. It is easy to talk of community when it is an abstract concept; it is more difficult when your life depends on it.

It is surprising to me that it is a slow process. To me, given the fact that most of these folks have known each other far longer than I have been here and given the gravity of what faces us – not just an unknown Winter, but arguably an existential threat – I would have expected a smoother transition.

People understand the need. People even are willing to collaborate and work together. But there is still this sense of holding back, a sense that this is only a temporary arrangement at best. Another year, maybe two at the maximum. That this is not the end.

I nod my head. I sympathize and try to gently encourage the idea of planning for farther out, that there might still be value in assuming this might go on a bit longer than we expect and that we may very well have only ourselves and our direct neighbors to rely on.

Our direct neighbors. You may be wondering about the “other” group that is inhabiting Birch. So far, encounters have remained few and generally non-remarkable, if missing the cordiality that one used to pay one’s neighbors. There are perhaps 30 people in that group, somewhat mixed in among “us”, but also some concentration at one part of town – for which I am grateful. The less direct encounters, especially right now, the better off I suspect we all we be.

Young Xerxes asked me this week if I had any idea if the two groups would come together. I responded I had no idea if and when that could occur. The circumstances that would create that possibility are the sorts of external threats that would mean a host of other issues, most of which no-one here is currently equipped to deal with – the sort of human invaders we dealt with earlier this year but much closer or a natural event that was devastating in its impact. I told him the best I am hoping for is a separated and peaceful Winter and an early Spring that will put people into the mind of working on all the needful things – except despising each other.

He laughed at that. Spring has not come early for years, he said.

I sighed. A late Spring helps no-one, least of all someone trying to make sure everyone gets to the other side.

Probably time to check in with folks – again – about their situation. And starting thinking about what we can do between now and then for…everything, Lucilius. For everything.

Your Obedient Servant, Seneca