My Village

I love the inclusiveness of my small town in Mexico.  When I return I am remembered and instantly accepted again.   This year was no different except that I brought a friend.  Immediately we were a part of celebrations of coming of age and vigils in memory of loss. Our participation in these village customs binds us to the people there, and them to us. We become a part of a community by sharing its joys and sorrows.

It’s so different at home in the U.S.  Our friends are not necessarily our neighbors and we don’t have several generations of family living in the same house, on the same street, or even in the same town.   Our communal joy and grief isn’t public. Our celebrations are confined to those who know us well and are invited in. I create my personal communities by plucking individuals to form groups of my own choice.  This works for me in our particular social and economic society.

And still, there is something warm and enriching in belonging to a body simply because I am acknowledged to be a human being who cares.  It motivates me to be mindful of my own chosen village of friends and family and to be there for all of you.


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