From the Executive Director

Maybe it was living in large cities. Maybe it was growing up in an insular ethnic community. Or, maybe it is just something in my DNA. But for much of this first year in Sautee Nacoochee, I have found that “community” is not an easy thing.

I moved to this rural area in search of community – or rather, an idyllic view of community. I imagined that community was simply living in proximity to people whom you know and with whom you could reciprocate small favors; I’ll water your plants, and you can feed my cats during vacations. In my naiveté I mistakenly confused “community” with “neighbor.” While I did find good neighbors, they are really only the first level of the community around me.

The reality of what it means to be part of a community began to set in this fall as I hit the six month mark of being the new and shiny Executive Director. People, some SNCA members and some not, began to share both past and present difficulties, hurts, and conflicts they had experienced within the community.

Sometimes their intentions for sharing were simply to explain why they didn’t come around much anymore. Sometimes the stories were intended to punish me for a decision I made that was similar to something in the past. Sometimes I was expected to “fix” the situation, whether it occurred a year or twenty years ago.

At first I was usually allowed to simply listen and lend an understanding shoulder to help lessen the pain. But increasingly I was called upon to weigh in on the matter being discussed.

“What do you think about how this was handled?”

“What would you do in the same situation?”

“What are you going to do to fix this?”

I could no longer sit on the fence and simply listen compassionately, often to both sides of a situation. I was being pushed to pick a side.
And this is where being part of a community became difficult for me. If you recall from one of my first columns, I am the person who always tries to find the middle ground.

I am discovering that sometimes being committed to a better community doesn’t allow you the luxury of standing in the middle. Sometimes you are expected to reveal thoughts and feelings that are uncomfortable, because they don’t agree with the thoughts and feelings of some of the people around you.

This winter I could feel myself wanting to retreat, to pull back from a leadership role in the community. Living in isolation is easier, because I don’t have to disappoint anyone by not agreeing with them. Living in isolation is easier, because no one expects me to reveal hidden parts of myself. Living in isolation is easier, because I don’t have to say the things others are afraid to say.

Then, a trip to the emergency room turned into a hospital admission. A few weeks back I was hospitalized for pulmonary emboli, blood clots in both lungs, resulting from a larger clot in my left leg. The condition can be life threatening if treatment is not immediate and on-going.
I was scared. But suddenly and unexpectedly, this community — my community — surrounded me. Prayers and loving thoughts embraced me. Even people I don’t know well showered me with attention and kindness.

And most surprising to me, this loving support includes folks I know I have disappointed, because I haven’t always agreed with them. To extend a loving hand to someone in need, regardless of differences, is community in the truest sense.

I know I am not the only one who sometimes finds it easier to live at arms length from the community ... and differences. Come with me on this journey to truly be a part of this community.

It won’t always be easy, and sometimes it will be downright messy. But once you experience the embrace of community, you will discover the joy of being a part of something greater than you could ever achieve on your own.