Community

What is this yearning I feel, for a deeper connection to something larger than me? It makes me wonder if the deep-seated need for community is not rooted in our natures, an innate desire. Perhaps it derives from the prehistoric need for protection from predators and other dangers; to me, it feels that primal.

I just finished the book The Secret Life of Bees, and the sadness I felt was profound. The women (and some men) in this book have such a sense of community, of safety in their numbers. Frankly, I was (and am) envious. (Fiction has often done this to me: The Color Purple comes to mind, as does Jayber Crow, or nearly any other work by Wendell Berry; there are many others I have forgotten). Why should this warm envelopment in love be available to some and not to others? What is amiss in my life that such a community has never embraced me? Is this, perhaps, something which only happens in books?

Oh, I know, this sounds like self-pity (and there's a component of that, I confess), but I am more curious than irritated‚ why should this be so? Is community something to be expected, or merely an outgrowth of exceptional circumstances?

In Buddhism, the community is the sangha, a group of like-minded persons following the path of the dharma. It is one of the three jewels of Buddhist practice (the others being the Buddha and the dharma). Yet, my observation is that in Western society it is very difficult to bring together such a group with any consistency or true community to it. Our lives are too disparate, too far-flung, just flat-out too busy. In AA, the community is the home group, but this seems to face the same challenges as the sangha. We come together briefly for our mutual benefit, then flee back to our homes, our televisions, our I-Pods, and our computers.

I know what my sponsor would say: "If you want a community around you, build one. Be available and loving to those who make up your world and share your life." Or something like that. Easier said than done. It seems to me that our society is made up primarily of pseudo-communities; things like MySapce, blogs, chat rooms, church groups, even AA meetings. Though they certainly have value of themselves, they are no substitute for true community.

Of course, as I admitted above, this desire for community is (at least in part) envy, but there are many things I envy (youth, beauty, musical skills, intelligence, math aptitude, facility for languages among them). But I recognize that these are either entirely out of reach or merely choices I can make, to devote my time and energy to their acquisition. But this thing with community is a craving in me, and one I feel I have no tools to bring about.

But when I remember to truly seek God's will for me, I recall the words on acceptance in the stories in the back of the Big Book, "My serenity is inversely proportional to my expectations." I must "do whatever is in front of me to be done, and...leave the results up to Him; however it turns out, that's God's will for me." And the Buddha taught that the very source of suffering is craving; it is not circumstances which cause me to suffer, but my desire to have them be other than as they are, what Sylvia Boorstein calls "an unappeasable need." So, my sponsor, as usual, is right. I don't need to know how to build this thing I want—this intimacy, the camaraderie, this love—I merely need to love others and give of myself. The result will be God's will and will speak for itself.