Creating Community

You all know me as an island dweller, but I’m currently out to sea, on an island that really feels like an island (rather than a continent, like Sicily.) The Aeolian islands are a little cluster of seven volcanic islands that are reachable only by boat (when the weather behaves…which so far it has). There is something gentle about Salina that I think comes from the soft light at dusk and dawn. And yet pops of pink bougainvillea, rows of green-leafed vineyards, and dark volcanic soil bring a sense of intensity to the environment…That and the dramatic changes in weather, especially this time of year when the rainstorms blow over as soon as they arrive.

I’m here in my capacity as Program Director of the Anna Tasca Lanza Cooking School leading a group on an investigation of fisheries in the Mediterranean. The week is an exploration not JUST into cooking, but also into understanding the island’s history, relationship with the sea, and current challenges in preserving and caring for our marine environments. It’s also an opportunity to meet and connect with many people.

If I had been asked ten years ago if I liked people, my answer would have been no. In fact, I was asked: in a diner in Pennsylvania when meeting my then boyfriend’s father for the first time. Coming from living in New York City, this small town diner felt like a world apart. I was so fascinated that I got distracted and couldn’t stop staring.

“So you like people,” the dad asked me. I looked over surprised and said, “Oh no! I like watching people.” He immediately extended his hand for me to shake.

Ask anyone. I do like watching people (and I like eavesdropping). But I also am starting to admit that I like people. Through my work, I get to meet so many people with different interests, backgrounds, ideas, but usually with a mutual love of/interest in food. Beyond that, there often isn’t much in common among the groups we host through our cooking school. Thrown together and left to stew with their own individual experiences and expectations, it’s fascinating to see what close connections, warmth, and inspiration can come out from such different personalities.

I’m always buoyed by the experience of watching human connections form. In finding the small commonalities, in discussing shared challenges, in coming up with dynamic ways to respond to common situations. The advantage of food is that it gives us something tangible to hold onto. Something for us to put our energy into and express ourselves through: beyond just the likes and dislikes, often parts of our hidden identities come out when it comes to playing with fish guts, eating rabbit salami, and/or tasting wine. I’m interested in how conversations ebb and flow, what questions are asked, what topics are broached, how needs are met, and how we see ourselves with respect to a larger group.

My foray from individual coaching into group coaching (or what I prefer to call community coaching) started as an intuitive step for me. For so long I’ve seen how food can help cultivate community, but with my group Belonging I was worried that people wouldn’t connect. What was the shared experience, especially on a Zoom screen?

But now, halfway through my second Belonging group, I realize that the shared experience doesn't have to be physical, doesn't have to be tangible, it can be ideological. And in Belonging, the shared experience is one of wanting to understand and unpacking our whole selves. It is the bravery of asking hard questions of ourselves and listening to those of others. It is the courage to set aside time and space for our own well-being and the community we signed up to be part of. It is a shared experience of kindness, patience, and compassion.

I still love listening, watching, soaking in the stories of others. But I also like people. I like seeing the care and kindness, the curiosity, the fascination, the wonder, and the awe that comes from having attentive, open people whether on the screen or around the table. I'm curious how others are creating communities, building relationships, putting themselves in contact with strangers. Just as much as I wonder about what we ask of ourselves, I also would love to know what we ask of others?

I’m signing off from a currently stormy Salina, hoping for calmer seas for our boat ride back on Thursday, and wishing you all a beautiful week ahead full of kindness and compassion. Please say hi!

I would love to hear from you about your current communities and the space you’re making for yourself and new connections.

Happy Tuesday,
Henna