Not Our Forever Home

How much of ourselves do we invest in our neighborhood when we know this is not our forever home?

The neighborhood hosted a back-to-school bash this weekend.  “Here is a fantastic opportunity to meet our neighbors,” I thought.  While we all enjoyed a lovely Saturday morning outside, I viewed attendance of this event as fun, but more importantly, strategic – I was scoping for kids and parents that I’d hope to meet, that perhaps we could be fast friends, especially for our children.  We met a few of our neighbors.  Our neighbors knew exactly which house was ours. “Oh, you live in the yellow house on the main street. I know it’s a rental.”

“I know it’s a rental.”

By her tone and the context of the conversation, it certainly sounded like a loaded statement to me.  Loaded with assumptions and barriers.  Or maybe not.  Maybe just an observation, no judgment intended.  (Am I too sensitive?)

Our interactions with our neighbors reminded me of what makes a neighborhood a great place to live - strong connections and hopefully encouraging, welcoming attitudes. Proximity doesn’t necessarily make neighbors your true neighbors.  Don’t get me wrong, the neighborhood is fantastic; the amenities are amazing.  If we make not one friend or acquaintance with any of our neighbors, our family will be just fine.  But I know as a seasoned and perpetual newcomer, I will feel at home in my new neighborhood and feel that I belong, once I have built strong connections, once I am known.

Yet building strong connections takes time. 

We know we will only live here in this house in this neighborhood for less than one year.  

“We don’t want our son to get attached and then be disappointed,” the mom said to me at the pool when we were making small talk about why we both moved here to this area.  She didn’t say that our boys or that we couldn’t be friends, but she paused.  I suppose it is daunting to make a connection knowing immediately from the start that it will be short-lived.  This is daunting to both the established and to the newcomer alike.  Making connections takes energy.  Who has the extra energy for that in our modern busyness?

I give kudos to another neighbor who introduced us to everyone that came our way at the picnic.  We all are introduced by name and by house. “We’re two houses down on Chapel Hill Street, on the left.”  “We live in the yellow house on Main Street.”  Etc.

We need community.  Much of my time and energy is to identify opportunities to build community.  To be part of something.  For myself and always for the children. 

The lesson is to show up.  Show up consistently.  Face the discomfort of not knowing anybody.  Face another round of small talk.  Be open to possibility.  Be open to opportunity.  Give freely of yourself. 

Admittedly, this advice is difficult for me to follow, more so as I get older.  It seems to take so much more energy now, to put myself out there.  To invite people in.  To be known.  When I was younger, the constant moving was an adventure.  Now it seems like work and less enjoyable. 

How much should you invest in your new town of 10 months?  I have decided that I will invest in today.  I will show up.  Consistently.   With an encouraging, welcoming attitude and smile.  I will be known.  It will all be worthwhile.  Because I will never know when my soon-to-be-forever friend is waiting for me at my new-to-me neighborhood picnic.