This past week, I stayed at a Quaker commune. No, really. I did.
Well, “commune” isn’t exactly the preferred term. Most of the twenty-six people who live in this nature filled hide-away use the term “intentional community.” From my limited knowledge of the subject, there doesn’t seem to be much of a difference between the two terms, other than the former has a generally negative stigma attached to it. And to be honest, I was kind of buying into that stigma prior to my visit.
My cousin Eric visited this very same Quaker intentional community only a few months ago, and quickly fell in love with the land, the people, and everything that they stand for. Since then, he’s continued to bond with the community’s members, living and working with everyone together. I decided that it was high time for a visit to see him and what he does, also because I was ridiculously curious to experience what the community was like. I half expected to be welcomed onto a land rich with the smell of weed, complete with joyous nudists and people with names like “Harmony” or “Chakra.” However, this couldn’t have been further from the reality.
After a beautifully picturesque train ride along the Hudson River, I arrived in the small town of Hudson, New York. Before I’d even seen Eric’s face I knew it was him, simply because of his refusal to wear shoes in almost any setting. He looked healthy, energetic, and above all, completely happy. We drove for forty minutes, filling the car with laughter, news, and stories of our lives from the year that we’d experienced since we saw each other last summer. When we finally pulled up to the community, I was stunned by its beauty.
I’m not quite sure what type of housing I was expecting, but the incredible farmhouses looked straight out of Sunset Magazine--completely eclipsing my expectation of sleeping outside at the mercy of millions of mosquitoes. Eric was kind enough to take me around and introduce me to the other residents, all of whom were incredibly intelligent, kind, and down-to-earth people. In fact, many members had their master’s or their doctorates, which I frankly found to be fascinating. They all appeared to be normal people (I mean, as normal as any of us are...I’ll leave that broad definition in your hands) who were consciously choosing to live a life separate from the often negative stimuli of the modern world.
Rather than totally isolating themselves from reality, there was a definite thread of connection between elements of nature and modern technology. Houses had heaters, refrigerators, TVs, etc., and I overheard some of the younger boys planning out a game of Minecraft for the following morning while they played in the potato garden. The fusion between two different realms that so often battle each other in modern times further emphasized their intention of creating a mindful community. Their love for the land and people around them was apparent, and it made me wistful for the alluring call of the Pacific Northwest that I call home.
For the rest of the day, I relished the land and did things that previously had been foreign to me. I herded sheep, fed horses, picked onions straight from the ground and bit into them like apples. That night, I took joy in the sound of cicadas in the rolling hills of the surrounding forest, and had an electric moment of awareness when I realized that there’s no right way to completely live one’s life. “Success” is not a term with a universal definition, and I realized that I would much rather be happy than conform to what people think is best for me. If the two happen to line up, then that’s great! And if not, I have enough faith in myself to know that I’ll eventually find my way to where I need to be.
Just like my experience in Woodstock a few weeks ago, it was nice to be able to get out of the city again. For as much as I love it here in Manhattan, this trip made me realize that there are ways to live your life outside of the box, while not totally dropping off of the face of the planet, either. As Eric and I ate our wondrous dinner of fresh lamb from the farm, I marveled at the overpowering importance of nature and family in my life, and silently thanked the world for the goodness that it has bestowed upon me.
Oh lord, rereading that last bit sounds incredibly hippy-ish. Maybe the intentional community got to me more than I thought it would...Eh, whatever. Namaste, dear readers. Namaste.
This is the view from the house I was staying in.
If you’re curious, here’s the link to the Quaker Intentional Community: http://qivp.org/qivc
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