By Arizona Nashoba
The dreaded day in every mother’s life finally arrived for me. All my children were out on their own, scattered around the world. It quickly became apparent that living in the family home, quietly waiting for the kids to have time to come visit me, was not a lifestyle I could adjust to. So, I sold my house and started moving around the country trying to find a place that would feel like home. Inevitably, everywhere I went included four empty walls that were devoid of the laughter, conversations, and shared work that I had become accustomed to while raising my children. Working, cleaning, and cooking for myself alone was just not worth the effort. I was stuck and I was going crazy. Empty-nest syndrome left me feeling lonely and without a purpose.
Four years later, in total desperation, I took my search to the internet looking for unique community living experiences. I thought that I could find a neighborhood that shared occasional potluck meals and truly interacted with each other. What I found instead was the Federation of Egalitarian Communities. The more I read about these intentional communities, the more excited I became. Could I have found my answer?
After days of carefully reading about each community, I decided to write a request to visit Twin Oaks. That single decision has led to a series of life-changing events.
The three-week visitor period provided me with ample opportunity to see how the community functioned. I worked alongside community members, ate with them, socialized with them, and quickly fell in love with the community lifestyle. My decision was made. I was applying for membership. The 10-day wait for 100 people to decide the fate of my choice was one of the longest periods in my life, but finally the wait was over—I had been accepted for provisional membership.
The move and subsequent adjustments to life at Twin Oaks were not quite as easy as my visitor’s period had led me to think they would be. The labor scene was difficult to balance. Most days ended with me feeling totally exhausted and just wanting to climb into my bed and escape into dreamland. The social scene was also not as I had anticipated after my visitor’s period. Now that I was a member and not a visitor, it was up to me to make the effort to reach out to other community members. They had their lives and routines and I had to attempt to become a part of that.
The days passed by quickly and each day I wondered if I had made the right decision. Perhaps I had made the choice too quickly. I wondered if lack of former community experience meant that I was not going to adjust or be accepted. And still I plodded through each day, reaching out to people when I had the opportunity, fulfilling my responsibilities, and trying to grow.
Around my three-month mark, halfway through my provisional period, I was walking to the writing group that I co-facilitate. One of the topics I had chosen for the group to write on—“Home”—was leading me to serious contemplation about my life here at Twin Oaks. It certainly isn’t a perfect utopia.
Personal and community dramas are on display for everyone to see and comment on. Everyone has their own beliefs about how the community should operate, which many times cause lively discussions about community intentions, finances, and businesses. Members have different viewpoints on just about every part of life, from work ethics to what should be served at dinner. Living here has provided me with daily challenges regarding personal interactions.
I continued walking and contemplating the lifestyle I have here at Twin Oaks. Tonight I have the writers’ group, tomorrow is art therapy, and Wednesday night is cards with my housemates. On other evenings I may go to a dance party or make a walking date with another Twin Oaker. Sunday mornings bring a pancake breakfast with my housemates, at which we share Steve’s delicious pancakes heavily seasoned with lots of good conversation and laughter. My work scene has begun to balance out; I know every day what tasks I am going to perform. Somehow or other, I too have quietly fallen into the nice comfortable routine filled with the laughter, conversations, and shared work that I was looking for. I have a new family, friends, and a purpose for this second part of my life.
As I walked along the forest path enjoying the acceptance of my new lifestyle, I heard the voice of one of the community’s children call out. “Arizona! Arizona, I love you.” I took a deep breath and smiled. I was home.
Excerpted from the Spring 2010 edition of Communities (#146), “Family.”