A Village Does Not Arrive

Last week, I posted in my kids’ parent group chat that we were headed to the pool and invited anyone who wanted to join us.

Soon, one family with two kids was on their way. Then another friend called to see if we could take her daughter for the day, followed by a sleepover at their house that evening.

“Wow,” I thought. “This is our village.”

I felt so incredibly grateful.

Five years ago, a day like this would have felt unimaginable. Now, it’s beginning to happen naturally.

I’ve come to realize that for me, spontaneous hangouts are the pinnacle of community. No calendaring weeks in advance, no endless texting back and forth. Just easeful alignment and connection.

Like many people, I’ve had a learning curve in building community. Along the way, I’ve been taking notes from my husband, the wonderful parents in our school community, and the writers I admire who think deeply about belonging.

I’m proud to say that my husband and I have been intentionally building community, and we’re beginning to enjoy the fruits of our labor.

Below are some of the ways we’ve worked to build up our community:

• Showing up to soccer regularly.

• Inviting friends over for dinner monthly.

• Offering to feed pets while people are away.

• Hosting neighborhood gatherings and events.

• Saying “yes” to other people’s events when we can.

• Organizing monthly mom hangs (I’m the Doodle queen).

• Asking friends to pick up my kids when one of us is out of town.

• My husband dropping by friends’ houses unannounced (I’m still too scared to try that one myself).

Many parts of community building are still uncomfortable for me and my husband is actually the one to nudge me to go past my comfort zone.

I still struggle with:

• Forgetting people’s names.

• Being tired and not wanting to go.

• Feeling indebted when someone helps me.

• Not always knowing how to help—and sometimes getting it wrong.

• Organizing neighborhood events and worrying no one will come.

• Turning down invitations to schedule hangs weeks in advance because I’m hoping for spontaneous get-togethers.

For some, this stuff will feel obvious. For others, just reading this list might make you uncomfortable. I certainly don’t claim to be doing community perfectly, but I know our country still suffers from a loneliness epidemic and so this work matters.

But this weekend a neighbor friend watched my kids for the afternoon while I ran our neighborhood flea market. And this morning, I received a photo of my kids laughing with their friends at camp. Looking at that picture, I thought, “Maybe we’re doing something right.”

Moments like that remind me that all of the awkwardness, effort, and small acts of showing up are slowly adding up to something bigger.

Because a village does not arrive. It is created.

This means both offering and receiving help. Both are surprisingly hard. Both are equally important.

So if you’re hoping to build a village too, start small. Maybe that’s saying hello to a neighbor, inviting another family to the park, bringing cookies to someone who just moved in, or asking for help when you need it.

That cringe feeling inside is completely normal. A village isn’t built by people who never feel awkward. It’s built by people who keep choosing connection anyway.

A cute pic of our neighbor, Ildiko, watching our kiddos while I helped run our neighborhood flea market!