5 Sharing Our Stories

It’s like everyone tells a story about themselves inside their
own head. Always. All the time. That story makes you
what you are. We build ourselves out of that story.

—PATRICK ROTHFUSS, AMERICAN FANTASY WRITER

THIS CHAPTER PRESENTS stories of people I know: people of various ages and backgrounds, all of them finding, creating, and deepening community in ways that nurture and sustain their lives and the lives of others. They do so by creating their story of community and sharing that story with others. Perhaps you will identify with them. Or they may remind you of a neighbor, friend, or family member. I offer their stories as a reminder that we are all seeking together and that community comes in many forms. What is your story?

I travel a lot to share my story of community and to encourage people to share their stories—often with complete strangers. My good friend Peter Block, author of Community: The Structure of Belonging and other books, has taught me to ask participants a specific, compelling question at the beginning of my presentations and workshops. As each person present considers that question—“Why is it important that I am here today?”—we are able to share our intent for our time together. I have found this to open us up to ask questions and become curious about one another as fellow travelers in the search for community.

Another question I often have participants ask one another in small groups is, “Who are you, and what brings you to this work?” This question invites inquiry and at the same time allows us to share our broader story—our history and, for many, our purpose in life.

Yet another question is to ask people for their first memory, or most meaningful experience, of community. I am amazed how much easier it is for us to become vulnerable (a wee bit) when we hear the story of another first.

The stories that follow come out of just such an exercise. Most are stories of people I know well. I have chosen them because they represent everyday situations in which they have struggled to find community and, in turn, deepened their experience with others. In the case of several of the stories, I have changed the name by request, and at least one of the stories is a composite of what I heard from interviews with several people I know. I encourage you to pick a story that resonates with you and use it as an inspiration to share your own story and longing, either in your journal or, better yet, with a friend or family member.

At the end of each story, I relate some of my observations or those shared with me during the interview in which I received the story. These observations provide what I consider wisdom moments and teachings for us to use on our own journeys toward deep community.

At the end of this chapter, I build on these stories to discuss some of the key benefits of community for our everyday life.

ANITA’S STORY Seeking a Bond in a Disconnected World

Anita is in her early thirties and the mother of two young children. Life can be hectic taking care of little ones, yet Anita also works part-time, is active in her church, and volunteers when she can. Her story reflects the role that a mothers’ group plays in supporting her and giving her a deeper experience of community.

Bonded by their faith and the experience of giving birth during the spring and summer of the same year, Anita and the core members of this mothers’ group have been meeting once a week for six years. Together, they have built a sense of community around their own stories—of pregnancy and childbirth and child care and family. They meet in one another’s homes, with the children playing while the moms visit (when they’re not mediating disputes, that is).

These women have supported one another through subsequent pregnancies and an adoption, helped with moves and illnesses, and been sounding boards for those experiencing the frustrations that can arise with children, schools, and quirky family dynamics. Twice a year, these moms make a point of getting together as families to try to keep the connection alive between their older children, who are now in school, and to connect dads to the group as well.

This group has been meaningful to Anita for the history she shares with its members, the fun they have together, and her knowledge that if she has a worry or concern, she can bring it to the group. What this group is missing for Anita, however, is a sense of purpose beyond itself.

“We drink tea and visit,” she says, “but typically we don’t delve into deeper subjects such as world issues, AIDS, or local poverty.”

Anita is curious to see what will happen to the group as the children grow up and the need for a playgroup disappears. She has a feeling that most of the mothers will be looking for employment once their children are in school and that the group may evolve into a once-a-month supper club.

“Only time will tell whether our years of weekly visits will be enough glue to keep us connected when our children no longer connect us,” she says.

In a sense, Anita’s story of the mothers’ group prepared her for a new, though related, story. The women in the group supported Anita when she and her husband adopted a daughter from China and entered into yet another community, one that formed when she and twelve other couples were thrown together as they headed overseas as part of the adoption process. They traveled together and shared the momentous experience of receiving their new children. Although geographically spread out once they returned home, these families have committed to getting together annually for a weekend to celebrate the anniversary of the adoptions.

Anita experiences deep connections as the babies in this second community grow and develop. She hopes that the girls will be able to maintain some form of connection to one another and their shared history as they mature. The adoption also introduced her to a community in her own city of families with children adopted from China and Korea. She and her family get together with these families to celebrate Chinese New Year and the Moon Festival and to participate in monthly events.

Finding a sense of purpose outside the raising of children can be difficult for a young mother, but Anita volunteers as she can. Immediately after the Asian tsunami in December 2004, she called a local development office where she had done some volunteering in the past and asked if there was anything she could do to help. They promptly put her to work answering the phone, which was ringing off the hook with people wanting to make donations. Anita was exhausted by the end of the day, but she recognized how much her presence had helped, which made the work worthwhile for her. She was grateful to be connected to people who were committed to a good cause together.

Sharing her story with other mothers was the start for Anita. Now her storytelling partners span her community and the world.

Anita’s wisdom for deepening community:

• Community can be found in everyday interactions.

• The storyline of life passages—such as becoming a mother—can become the basis of community.

• Shared challenges—and adversity—can bring people together.

• A sense of comfort and familiarity leads to a feeling of community.

• Sharing experiences can be a springboard for working together for a common purpose.

LUCAS’S STORY Facebook Friends

Lucas is sixteen years old. He is seeking community for deeper connection and the assurance that he fits in. For Lucas, the “operating system” of community is primarily the Internet.

Lucas is likable and responsible. He is tall, handsome, and great at both school and sports. He grew up in an average home, with better-than-average experiences of community. His closest community (but not for long) is his family, with a younger brother and loving parents who both work at jobs they like. He lives in a safe neighborhood and knows his neighbors. He has attended the same church for over a decade. He goes to a great school, where most of his friends go, and has teachers who care about his welfare. He plays on several different sports teams each year.

If you were to observe Lucas’s life, you might think it seems carefree. During the week, he goes to school and studies; on weekends he sleeps in, stays up late, eats whatever and whenever he wants, plays sports, and hangs out with friends. When compared with earning a living, caring for children, and maintaining a household, his life might seem like Easy Street. But Lucas is growing up and discovering his independence. Finding connection with his friends and schoolmates absorbs most of his creative energy; he is consumed with trying to fit in. What role might community play in his life?

Even though he may not describe it this way, community has always been an important part of Lucas’s life. He loves going to family reunions and visiting his cousins during holidays. Even estranged family members are welcome at family gatherings, according to Lucas.

Lucas grew up with neighbors who contributed greatly to his development; he connected in wonderful ways with the neighborhood children he played with and their parents. But when he was ten, his parents got work in another town and moved the family. Though he still sees his former neighbors a couple of times a year, the bond is distant. His current neighbors have never played the same role in his life, even though he sees them often and is active in neighborhood barbecues and the like.

Church has been a mixed experience for Lucas. He goes most often without reluctance, and at times even without his parents. Sunday school is an opportunity to connect with friends, and the main service is an opportunity to catch up on homework or sleep. He likes the communal aspect of church and the consistency and stability that have been there throughout his life.

But community is taking on a different meaning for Lucas. His family story and neighborhood story are being replaced by school friends as the central influence in his life. Going to parties and hanging out at friends’ homes are taking precedence over his neighborhood and church. It might seem that community is less important to Lucas now than it was in the past—that is, unless you saw his Facebook friends list.

More than two hundred strong, this list says more about his sense of community than most might imagine. Just about every member of his school’s eleventh-grade class is included, as are his neighbors from childhood and his cousins, some of whom live so far away that he sees them only every three to five years.

When I think of Facebook friends, I normally think of those unknown people who hang out in cyberspace and send random e-mails to anyone who will accept them. But this is not the case with Lucas’s list. He has used Facebook as a way to connect with people; judging by his list, you might say that community is more important to Lucas now than it has ever been.

At Lucas’s house, the phone never rings for him, yet he always seems to know exactly what his friends are doing and even gives his parents updates on his cousins. How so? Because of the way he uses Facebook to build his network. The people in this network are now shaping his identity and giving him a sense of belonging.

Facebook allows him to arrange social events and rides to games he is playing in, and to keep abreast of all the comings and goings of the people he cares about. It helps him to remember assignments he may have missed in class and to catch up on the gossip, which is so important in learning about the rules of engagement for teenagers. By making his profile accessible only to his friends, Facebook also allows Lucas to limit his community, much the way people do by association, as in the neighborhoods in which they choose to live or the clubs they might join.

Young people can surprise us if we look at the world through their lens. Communities are so often identified with face-to-face contact. Many may not consider the cyber-world a place for building community, but young people are showing great prowess in using this world to create communities that work for them. Lucas’s Facebook community looks much like my community—though mine may be best documented in my phone and e-mail list. I struggle to get to my list as often as I can, and in my busy world that means seeing people I care about less often than I would like. In Lucas’s Facebook world, he can stay connected even when people are distant. Lucas is deepening community as he stays connected.

Lucas’s wisdom for deepening community:

• Community happens in many ways, and when it does, you can add the new acquaintances to your Facebook account.

• It’s best to open your door only to people you know, but if you let them in once, the door is always open.

• Stay connected—we are all just a click away.

• Your Facebook profile and online ramblings say more about you than the neighborhood you live in or the clothes you wear.

• Facebook means we can always connect to our community, even when we’re not at home—even if we’re halfway around the world.

RITA’S STORY How We Live Matters

Rita lives a half-hour from the nearest city and works on her family farm. Her life is based on the rhythms of daily farm life. She has used this life as a natural template for community sharing.

Rita works seven days a week milking, tending a garden, keeping house, and raising a family. She leaves the farm every Sunday to go to church and every Monday to buy groceries. Walking to the neighbors’ farms is a hike, and getting to the city is a commute, but times with friends and family and weekday church gatherings happen often, though seldom until after eight o’clock, when the evening milking is done.

There’s something special about the life that Rita and her family lead. It is far more rhythmic than most I observe. The days and the seasons each have their community patterns. The days are full, but not too full to keep Rita and her family from engaging with those around them.

A central influence in Rita’s life is her church community. Both Rita and her husband have taken on leadership roles in the church, and their children are active in the youth group. The church is not just a place to meet internal needs; while it is a place that builds belonging based on the sharing of its members’ stories, it is also a conduit for engaging and helping others.

The men’s group secures a donated field in which to plant grain every year and ships the produce overseas through the Canadian Food Grains Bank to feed those affected by famine and war. A women’s group raises funds to make thousands of tea balls each year for the Mennonite Relief Sale. Another group for years has made Sunday-night dinner for the House of Friendship, a shelter for homeless men, and yet another raises funds and builds a school or church overseas every two years in an impoverished community.

This group of people exemplifies caring and giving. And they extend this caring to one another, helping out at one another’s weddings and funerals, taking care of one another and even people who are not part of the church when they get sick. For months, Rita and members of the church supported a sick elderly woman who lived across the street from the church. She was known as the Cat Lady because she owned dozens of cats. When she went into the hospital, Rita was part of the crew that cleaned her house—which, as you might imagine, was a terrible, pungent mess—after hospital personnel told this woman that she could not go home unless the cats were removed and the house sanitized.

The woman died before she could move back home, but not before she had named Rita’s pastor as executor of her will, for which he received some money from the estate. Not wanting to gain personally for what he considered to be an act of kindness, he used the money to buy a defibrillator for the volunteer fire department. Several months later, he had a heart attack and was the first person to benefit from it.

Rita’s son also recently had a heart attack. It was an incredibly worrisome time in the life of his family. The stent that had been placed in an artery near his heart had not been working properly, and one day when he was out running at school, his heart suddenly stopped. Fortunately, his teacher knew CPR, a doctor’s office was across the street from the school, and a local nurse, who had just finished a presentation to a class, was coming out of the school just in time to help. That’s not all: the local ambulance happened to be driving by at just the right time, and the volunteer fire department had its defibrillator. Her son’s life was saved.

But the real miracle took place during the month of his hospitalization, surgery, and recovery in a city nearly two hours away. The phone never stopped ringing at home, meals were dropped off, endless boxes of chocolates and other gifts were sent to the hospital, and some friends and family members made the long drive daily with Rita’s husband and daughter to visit at the hospital after their chores were done. People even took time off work to help the family with their spring planting since Rita was staying with her recovering son. Special wishes and prayers made this difficult time so much easier.

The connection between giving and receiving is central in Rita’s life. It is not a matter of indebtedness, and not even of gratitude (though there is plenty of that); it’s more just, well, this is what you do. When people are in need, this is what is good and right, Rita would say: the way of community; the sense of support and belonging that makes life good and safe for all concerned.

Though Rita lives in a small rural community, she seems deeply connected to the world. In many ways her life on the farm and at church has preserved the best of the way community used to be. Though it may sound unreal to some—too warm and ideal—the story is real, as are the people who make up her remarkable community. This community has shaped and continues to shape them. It works its way into everything. For example, when people are ready to leave after a visit in Rita’s home, the entire family walks them to the door and waves goodbye as they pull away.

Rita’s wisdom for deepening community:

• Where you live can increase your possibilities for community.

• Community is a lifestyle—a way of being.

• It is important to commit to a group of people.

• “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.”

• Get involved and help others; this will connect you to them.

• The more you give, the more you recieve.

JILL’S STORY Lonely Is a Choice

Jill is retired and has been divorced for nearly twenty years. She lives alone in a small apartment in a housing complex for seniors. Her daughter lives nearby, but her two sons have moved across the country for work. Jill is reinventing her community; though she is lonely at times, her active lifestyle and many new friends are giving her a renewed sense of connection.

Jill spent the first twelve years of her life on a farm in a small rural village. Her parents could not make a go of it and moved to the city for work. The family visited their village every week to see cousins, attend weddings and funerals, and get together with family friends. Jill fondly remembers falling asleep in the backseat of the car with her sisters on the way home from these visits, feeling full and warm.

Jill graduated from university, married, and started teaching biology at a large high school in the city. She loved teaching and spent time with children who were struggling in school. She also coached the women’s volleyball team and was active in her local community. She took a few breaks as her own children grew but continued in her teaching career.

What happened next altered Jill’s community story drastically. After her children left home for university, her marriage broke down—and so did many of the friendships she and her former husband had forged as a couple. She blocked feelings of loneliness by throwing herself fully into her career, teaching for nearly a decade more. Then she sold her home and moved into the seniors’ complex.

There, however, her loneliness caught up with her. For the first year in her new setting, Jill experienced what her doctor believed was depression. But she never filled the prescription he gave her; deep down, she knew that she was dealing with a normal response to being divorced, retiring from a career, and living far away from her children.

Things took a turn for the better when her daughter, now married, moved with her two children to the city where Jill lived. This meant so much to Jill; spending time with her daughter and grandchildren gave her renewed energy. It was wonderful to have family near again, and the smiles of her grandchildren gave her strength.

Jill decided that she had done enough keeping to herself and got involved at her complex. She joined the walking club and tried a yoga class. She volunteered at the library and a new day-care center for children. Most important, she began meeting twice a week with a group of women to visit, play cards, and share meals.

This changed the way Jill thought about herself and the community she had always been a part of. She was surprised how easy it was to find community with others—because they were seeking the same.

Jill’s wisdom for deepening community:

• Finding community and belonging can happen at any age.

• Family is important but not essential to community in your life.

• It’s important to reach out—someone needs to initiate community.

• It helps to find a place to live where community is part of the program.

WILL’S STORY Losing and Finding Community

When you have experienced intentional community, going back to everyday life is hard. That is Will’s story: he is seeking a community that he feels he has lost.

Will can be very serious, but he is also warm and funny. He has a deep faith. He is always seeking conversation with others, embracing people with acceptance and sharing details of his life with an openness that I seldom experience. Visiting with him is like sitting down with an urban philosopher.

Will is unique in that he has lived in intentional community most of his adult life. He formed his first such community with friends right out of university—his first experience of the deep bond of belonging and purpose that is so intense among those who live together and share everything in common.

This experience led him, when he was still in his twenties, to an intentional community in the state of Georgia, one that was drawn together around the needs of refugees and prisoners on death row. On average, five or six families form the core of this community, joined on a temporary basis by interns, volunteers, and refugee families who stay for a few weeks to learn English and other skills to help them integrate into U.S. culture.

The partners in the community share everything in common—land, houses, and finances. They sing together, pray together, and eat most of their meals together. Will found a profound sense of belonging and purpose in this community because it was committed to building a better world together. It was here that he met his wife and they raised their three children. Life was not always easy. Everyone worked hard, raised funds to support their vision, and lived close to the land. People joined the community for many reasons—such as for a simpler life or a safe place to raise their families—but only those deeply committed to the mission stayed for long periods of time.

Life in intentional community can provide so much to those seeking a deeper experience of belonging, but it also requires its members to give much of their identity and personal will to the community. This is not as large a sacrifice as it may seem because the benefits of belonging, security, and purpose most often outweigh the need for personal expression. When living in a healthy and well-functioning intentional community, members can maintain the fine balance between personal creativity and expression and the will and needs of the community as a whole, to the benefit of everyone.

Will and his wife were able to find this balance in Georgia for a long time, until fifteen years after Will joined, when they began to feel that the well-being of their children was being challenged. The community believes deeply that they should not isolate children from the outside world, that going to public school and forming friendships outside the community is important. But the schools in their district are ranked the lowest in the state. Will and his wife—both of them university educated—became concerned about the quality of education their children were receiving and the effect this would have on their chances later in life. As their children were reaching high school age, they began to feel that homeschooling would be a better choice for them and their children. The community deliberated this question for months, ultimately deciding that the significance of integration into the larger community was too important a value to change. Will and his wife chose to leave the community and move their family to Canada, where they had both grown up.

In Canada they found an exceptional school for their children and meaningful jobs. They also met others who had a similar belief in community and bought a home next to one of these couples. Though they do not live in intentional community, the two couples are committed to supporting one another. Will and his family navigated this big change well.

A happy ending to the story, one might think. But even though Will and his family integrated well into their new life, Will experienced a profound loss of community and mission. Some days he found it hard to get going in the morning. His job seemed less important and his friendships less real, and his daily interactions lacked the sense of purpose he felt so deeply when he lived in intentional community. He was frozen by the fear that he would never find true community in his new life.

This is the point when I found Will, or should I say when he found me. He had heard that I was writing a book on community and wanted to talk. Ever seeking, desperate for meaning and fulfillment, he was hoping that I might uncover something in my research to help him find the community he was longing for in his newly chosen life.

The two of us have had many conversations. Will has tried harder than anyone I know to find community. He is pleased that his children are happy and are thriving in their new schools and environment. But he still feels an emptiness, despite volunteering with refugees learning English and identifying with their sense of loss and displacement, joining two men’s groups, becoming close friends with the couple who live next door, and attending a welcoming church.

Even when he worked for a charity to build what it calls supportive housing, he did not find the same sense of connection and purpose. And now, as a self-employed carpenter, he finds his work to be largely functional and aimed at earning money to support his family. The mundane needs of urban life—paying the bills, maintaining a single-family household, driving the children to their various lessons and appointments—consume so much energy. Life takes much more effort now.

In some ways Will’s transition may be likened to three of Elisabeth Kübler-Ross’s five stages of grief: denial, anger, and acceptance. I am happy to say that he has arrived at a place of acceptance and has found some peace with his choice. In effect, he is infusing his new life with his earlier story of intentional community. We spend many an hour talking about what we describe as “hybrid communities”—such as cohousing and neighborhood associations—which draw from the best of intentional community but are adapted for mainstream life. And Will has the best perspective of anyone I know on what is lacking in normal community versus intentional community.

Will’s wisdom for deepening community:

• Healthy community creates a deep sense of personal and financial security, for both the individual and the family. In the larger society, we are most often on our own as individuals or a family unit to fend for ourselves, which can create financial insecurity, fear, and feelings of inadequacy.

• In community, meeting needs for belonging and meaning is a shared responsibility, and children have many role models as they grow up. In the larger society, it is often assumed that one person can fufill all the needs of a spouse, and parents all the needs of their children, which puts excessive pressure on marriages and families.

• Community creates a cooperative environment in which a focus on unity and the well-being of all is maintained. In the larger society, concern for individual striving produces a competitive environment that marginalizes and impoverishes many.

• In community, the sharing of material goods supports simplicity and creates interdependence. In the larger society, sharing is difficult and often impractical, so every household has its own appliances and tools and has to work long hours to afford them.

• Community conserves energy and helps the environment. In the larger society, work, church, family, and friendships are often separated and require time and energy consumption for all the commutes that are necessary to maintain connections.

• Community can help people to focus on their spiritual lives, as faith-based communities rely on trusting God and one another.

• Job satisfaction is often quite high in community because of the cooperation and sense of mission. In the larger society, a job is often a means to an end—to pay the bills and feed the family.

• Socializing is always available in community, through singing, playing games, traveling together, and so on. In the larger society, having fun often involves significant amounts of money and time.

• In community, a person becomes a generalist, open to learning and doing new tasks. In the larger society, work has for the most part become so specialized that a generalist struggles to find a place.

• In community, the weekend is an extension of the week. In the larger society, people often live for weekends.

The Benefits of Community

We can learn from sharing our stories, especially as we begin to understand the wisdom that comes from them. In fact, this sharing benefits us, individually and collectively, in at least four main ways, providing the ground for greater caring:

• Community and belonging shape our identity more broadly.

• Community builds the conditions for mutual aid and prosperity.

• We can be smarter and more effective in community.

• Community improves our health and overall well-being.

Community and Belonging Shape Our Identity More Broadly

In the stories above, Anita adopted a child and was part of community that helped her welcome that child to a new country while encouraging the child to keep a healthy identity. Lucas was just trying to grow up. Jill was trying to find herself as a single person. Will was seeking the closeness that comes from intentional community. But what about those of us who lack the level of support experienced by these four people?

In her New York Times bestselling memoir The Glass Castle, Jeannette Walls tells of her poverty-stricken childhood and deeply dysfunctional parents, who could be loving but often were self-centered and neglectful. Though central figures in her life, they alone did not shape the person she would become. A series of important mentors—in particular, a small-town newspaper editor who helped her to find her talent as a writer—assisted Walls in seeing beyond her immediate situation.

Fortunately, many are the examples in which men and women have stepped up to provide emotional stability to children in situations such as the one Walls found herself in.

When we have community in our lives, we can broaden the person we see ourselves to be. Belonging can shape our identity. It can determine whether we adopt unhealthy behaviors or healthy ones. It can help us to build the skills we require to interact with others in a healthy way, and it can help us to engage in and embrace a communal approach that benefits many.

Community Builds the Conditions for Mutual Aid and Prosperity

Rita relied on her community in a time of need. Will knows how important community can be to his well-being and that of his family. Anita has built a community to support her family through a major life transition.

I tap into my knowledge of Mennonite life to understand how community aids its members. Old Order Mennonites are much like the Amish. They believe that God asks them to live slower, simpler, relationship-centered lives. Often they shun all technology—cars, television, phones, computers, and the like—and refuse government support systems or insurance of any kind. They feel that their community and their faith in God are insurance enough. When there is a medical emergency, the community takes up a collection to pay the hospital bill. As is well known, when a member’s barn burns down, the community comes together to construct a new one, often in a day or two. In this way they are one another’s insurance. This is their definition of “mutual aid.”

In wider society, as well, we know that when people know others who are willing to help them with their job search, they are unemployed a shorter time than those who do not. We know that with an economic safety net made up of family and friends, people rely on government aid less and exit poverty more quickly.

Working together, we can do so much more. For this reason, many people have joined credit unions and cooperatives or become members of labor unions. By joining with others, we have a better chance of being successful. This also allows us to support one another. The success of one becomes the success of all.

We Can Be Smarter and More Effective in Community

Lucas intuitively understands how important it is to have a network and test ideas as he is growing up. Facebook is a great tool to help him understand others and find patterns to follow. Will shares his knowledge of how a small intentional community helped thousands of refugees with relatively little money. The wisdom of the collective created these conditions. Anita traveled with twelve other families to China to pick up her daughter. These families stayed together to help raise their children and to share how to do so in a healthy way.

John Ott, a consultant and coauthor of the amazing book The Power of Collective Wisdom: And the Trap of Collective Folly, is a transformative human being. Recently, when sharing his story with the Tamarack Institute’s learning community, he stated,

When human beings gather in groups, a depth of awareness and insight, a transcendent knowing, becomes available to us that, if accessed, can lead to a profound action. We call this transcendent knowing “collective wisdom.” This knowing is not of the mind alone. When this knowing and sense of right action emerges, it does so from deep within the individual participants, from within the collective awareness of the group, and from within the larger field that holds the group.

This collective wisdom, he went on to say, is the hope for our future in these chaotic times. Groups have the potential to be sources of extraordinary creative power, incubators of innovative ideas, and instruments of social healing.

We are smarter together, and it is by learning together and working toward what we hold in common to be true that we will be able to find the solutions we need for a more effective world. This is consistent with Darwin’s thinking later in his life that survival of the fittest also means survival of the most cooperative. When the members of a species can learn together and act collectively on what they know, they are able to succeed and grow.

Community Improves Our Health and Overall Well-Being

Rita’s pastor survived a heart attack because of his community. Lucas checks in with his friends on Facebook to learn about common health concerns. Jill’s mental health improved because she got involved in her community. A healthy community is a massive benefit of staying together and taking care of one another.

Dean Ornish may be the most prominent heart specialist in North America. He was chosen by Life magazine as one of “the fifty most influential members of his generation” and by Forbes magazine as one of “the seven most powerful teachers in the world.” His work on reversing heart disease through lifestyle changes—exercise, a low-fat vegetarian diet, and meditation and yoga for stress release—has transformed how health professionals around the world are combating the leading killer of our time.

In addition to these three changes, Ornish observed that patients with heart disease who had a greater number of significant relationships in their lives lived longer than those who did not. This caused him to do extensive research, which resulted in his writing the book Love and Survival: The Scientific Basis for the Healing Power of Intimacy, in which he asserts that “perhaps the most powerful intervention … is the healing power of love and intimacy, and the emotional and spiritual transformation that often results from these.”

The medicine that Ornish prescribes is community. “When we gather together to tell and listen to each other’s stories,” he writes, “the sense of community and the recognition of shared experiences can be profoundly healing.”

The heart specialist quotes many research studies to back up his conclusions. People who answered no to questions about whether they had a friend who could lend them money in a difficult spot, drive them to a hospital, or care for them at home if needed had a three-to-five-times greater risk of disease and premature death from all causes.

Ornish also refers to a monograph by the renowned sociologist Emile Durkheim titled Suicide: A Study in Sociology, first published in 1897, which details the findings that people who were well integrated into group life, and those who were married, were far less likely to commit suicide. Ornish cites a study by David Spiegel of Stanford University showing that breast cancer survivors who engaged in a support group for a year lived on average twice as long as those who did not, as well as the finding of Dr. F. I. Fawzy at UCLA that just six weeks of support for patients with malignant melanoma were enough to boost survival times more than threefold.

Evidence shows that social ties that result in love and intimacy also help protect against infectious diseases. Dr. Sheldon Cohen at Carnegie Mellon University gave 276 healthy volunteers nasal drops containing the common-cold virus and found that individuals who had only three types of relationships—among friends, family, church, clubs, etc.—were more than four times as likely to develop a cold compared with those reporting six or more types of relationships.

One of the earliest and most significant studies recognizing the power of love and relationships, according to Ornish, was the Roseto study, which lasted nearly fifty years. In the first thirty years of the study, the population of Roseto, a homogeneous Italian-American community in Pennsylvania, had a strikingly low mortality rate from heart attacks compared with people in two adjacent towns. Roseto was settled by Italian immigrants who had strong family ties and cohesive community relationships. When the social bonds and community life dissolved among this community to the point where they were equal to those in the other towns, the incidence of heart disease rose to match the latter’s rates.

Between 1979 and 1994, eight large-scale, community-based studies were conducted to examine the relationship between social isolation and death and disease. The results were remarkably consistent. Those who were socially isolated had at least two to five times the risk of premature death from all causes compared with those who had a strong sense of connection and community.

The importance of relationships and community for health and overall well-being cannot be ignored. As Ornish puts it, “We are creatures of community. Those individuals, societies, and cultures who learned to take care of each other, to love each other, and to nurture relationships with each other during the past several hundred thousand years were more likely to survive than those who did not.… In our culture, the idea of spending time taking care of each other and creating communities has become increasingly rare. Ignoring these ideas imperils our survival.”

The good news is that the experience of community is increasingly being accepted as a better measure of wealth than the achievement of individuals and the gross domestic product (GDP) of a nation. Already, some of the world’s most prominent economists are writing about the “economics of happiness.” One, John Helliwell, even ends many of his talks with a children’s song that includes these words:

The more we get together,
together, together,
the more we get together,
the happier we’ll be.

Getting together starts when we share our stories. It gathers steam when we enjoy one another.