The Joy of Community

I spend much of my life alone.

OK, so that sounds pathetic, but it's actually just a statement of fact. I work from home--so when the kids go off to school and the husband heads out the door for his office, I have blissful solitary peace. Well, almost solitary--the dog waits patiently for me to finally ensconce myself at my computer so that she can curl herself up in her little bed at my side. She gives me dirty looks if she thinks I'm dawdling--she likes her schedule. The cat comes to visit when he feels the need to remind me that his food bowl is empty and would I please take care of that RIGHT NOW. But other than furry friends, and the occasional visit from UPS or the meter-reader, I spend my day by myself. And I'm perfectly okay with that. There's a strong hermit gene that runs through my family--we're all serious introverts--so the fact that I've been working from home for about 7 or 8 years now suits me just fine.

And most days, email relationships feel like real conversation. I'm happy enough with literary friendships rather than face-to-face meet-ups most times. But then I go to my quilt guild meeting and realize how much I've missed being actually in the same room with other people who have gathered together around a shared interest and simply want to have a good time.

I've been a part of my guild--or, rather, "bee" since we don't have bylaws and don't see the need for them at the moment, gol dang it--for about two years, but my attendance was very hit and miss until this fall. I travel for work and somehow my travel seemed to frequently fall on that second Tuesday of the month. Or the kids would have stuff going on. Or whoever was assigned to make dinner that night (notably, the offspring) would manage to drag out a very simple recipe for several hours and I wouldn't be able to get out of the house on time. And although I found it mildly frustrating, I also hadn't connected with enough people in the guild yet to truly feel part of things (see the introvert comment above) so I didn't miss it so much.

But this fall I managed to attend several meetings in a row, including our Christmas banquet, and ended up with a couple of guild members in a class I took at our local quilt store during the early part of my sabbatical. Fellow guild members were beginning to learn my name and I was beginning to learn theirs. I was being greeted by name, and able to greet others by name, when I entered the room. One person began saving a seat for me. Suddenly, I was part of things. I had a community.

And then last month it started looking like I wasn't going to be able to go to my guild meeting due to conflicting family schedules, and I almost cried. At that moment, I realized how important those meetings had become to me. I bribed my daughter to let me go to my guild meeting instead of taking her to her optional event (she's easy--all it takes is the promise of a trip to the bookstore!) and later told my entire family that from now on, they are not to plan anything involving me on guild meeting nights. They need to work around me that one night a month, contrary to the rest of the month when mostly I work around them.

I felt guilty for all of about five minutes, then I realized how important having a community is to us as human beings. I have other communities, of course--I'm very fortunate to have a close and fun extended family on both sides of my marriage, and my husband, kids, and I have no end of great times together. I have a church community and a work community too, but while they're both wonderfully supportive they also both come with responsibilities that occasionally start feeling overwhelming. My quilt guild, on the other hand, is just a fun bunch of women that enjoy quilting. We expect nothing of one another than just to laugh, admire one another's work, and have a good time.

I've heard horror stories of some guilds that still have the old-fashioned quilt police and members who make snarky remarks about one another's quilts, but my guild is not like that. I wouldn't bother going if it was. We spend the bulk of our meetings laughing, and every single quilt that is shown gets it's fair share of "oohs and aahs" and applause, regardless of the skill level or quilting style of the person showing. I can attest to that because mine are definitely at the beginner end of the spectrum and I occasionally have very visible errors--and yet I still get applause! And as hokey as it sounds, that feels really good.

So I no longer feel guilty about prioritizing my guild meetings. If I had a card-playing group or a book club, I suspect it would fit that same need. But for now, my bee will suit me just fine.