When Asking Is the Bravest Thing You Can Do

Honoring Community, Rejecting Judgment, and Remembering the Power of Collective Care

I remember the struggles of motherhood. As a woman who raised three children, it was certainly challenging. After we lost our home, we lived pillar to post. Sometimes I made sure they had a place to sleep while I rested in a vehicle, just to avoid burdening the families offering us support. It took years to recover from the debt, the losses, the embarrassment, and the deep disruption to my life. I even started a fundraiser once, trying to raise $5,000 just to get back on track. Those were tough times.

Recently, a woman around my age that's still raising a family, bravely asked our community for help. Not surprisingly, some responded with messages lacking compassion. I saw things like: “Don’t be desperate,” or “It’s embarrassing to ask,” or the familiar “I’ll pray for you” with no real support behind it. I messaged her to let her know she is seen, known, felt, and cared for deeply. I offered quiet, tangible support and reminded her that God, the Creator of all would sustain and keep her.

This encounter made my heart and spirit feel deeply ready for tree-life living. A place where the community sits in a circle and eats from the same pot. Progress has, in many ways, broken down our capacity for care and collective concern. We’ve traded compassion for competition, community for individualism. Why are we so hell-bent on appearing whole, never in need, always polished, excellent, and put-together? I don’t believe that God ever intended for us to collect things (wealth, status, houses, cars, etc.) and neglect our neighbors and community. 

We till the ground and produce food, yes, but we’re also meant to sit together and enjoy the fruits of our labor as a community. I’m tired of rugged individualism and capitalism at all costs, even when it costs us our elders, our children, and the most vulnerable among us. I have thoughts and solutions. They’re not divisive, but sometimes when I share them, ridicule and scorn come my way. Some people like to have someone to look down on. I am not one of them. 

Though my means are modest, I give what I can to support the collective. I always have and I always will. My heart is not tethered to things; it’s anchored in love, for the betterment of humankind and the earth.

With Love for the Collective,

Stacie J.