Why Going It Alone Is A Trap

So here we are, after 5 years in Bali, returning to San Miguel de Allende, Mexico. We're swapping endless Bali sun for the kind of chill that has you digging out sweaters you forgot you owned. San Miguel sits proudly at 6,000 feet, a world away from those beachy postcards of Mexico you might have in mind. The cold? It catches you off guard, this time of year.

Settling into this old Spanish colonial gem we're calling home, the real deal about San Miguel hits me all over again. It's not the climate that warms you up here; it's the smiles, the food, the art, and that unmistakable vibe of a town that's more than just pretty faces and old buildings. It's got soul.

And it's easy to see why expats, especially those who've seen more than a few decades, flock here. San Miguel's got this grounded feeling, a sense of self-awareness that's pretty rare. It's not just the stunning architecture or the vibrant art scene that draws people in. It's the community—a mix of locals and foreigners, young and old, all weaving together.

• A good number of these expats, living out their golden years in style and solitude, are doing so far from family.

• In a place where being alone in your final chapters is so foreign to the Mexican community, they find a sort of togetherness, albeit not with their own kin folk.

Why the distance?

Walking through our new place, surrounded by someone else's life left behind—fancy furnishings, photos, trinkets—it's like they just stepped out. Except they didn't. They're gone, and nobody's come to sift through the memories. It's all just... here.

This got me thinking deep about the fabric of our lives—what stitches us together, what pulls us apart.

Lost Connections: In pursuit of a better life, in many parts of the world, we've often left behind the very things that make life worth living: the deep, enriching connections of community. The stories we share, the meals we enjoy together, the collective triumphs and trials – these are the true measures of wealth.

The Cost of "Progress"

• Loss of community: The tight-knit support networks of small towns and rural areas faded as people moved towards urban centers.

• Disconnection from nature: Swapping green fields for concrete jungles, we've lost our daily touch with the earth.

• Increased isolation: In cities, it's possible to be surrounded by thousands yet feel utterly alone.

• Overlooked trade-offs: Few really stopped to think about what we'd lose in the bargain – the community, the connection to the land, the sense of belonging.

How did we get to a point where the hustle for more, for better, leaves us isolated in a crowd? Where family ties get so thin, they're barely there?

It's this puzzle I'm looking to piece together, tracing the lines from close-knit circles around kitchen tables to the scattered, solitary lives many end up leading.

Recently, I met this woman in San Miguel, from Romania, with a story that's as much about the binds that tie as it is about the urge to break free. She talked about her small town back home, a place where everyone knows your business, not just friends and family but even folks you'd call strangers. It's the kind of closeness that feels too close, where your life feels like an open book for communal commentary.

She left in her 20’s, seeking a breath of freedom from that all-seeing eye, but returns with her son to visit family. He’s a rebel spirit in his own right. Going out without shoes and walking around with hair that’s probably never known a comb. This doesn’t just spark talks around town people, even strangers freely approach her about it. That tight-knit community feels suffocating to her.

• Community Challenges:

  • Everyone has an opinion on your life choices.

  • A lack of personal space and privacy.

  • The pressure to conform to unwritten social norms and expectations.

Yet, despite her annoyance, she finds herself drawn back time and again, not just to her hometown but to the concept of community itself.

She travels each week, an hour each way, just to connect her son with other teens here in San Miguel where I met her.

Why do we chase these connections, even when they're complicated?

• Why We Seek Community:

  • A deep-rooted emotional and human need to belong.

  • The joy and fulfillment found in shared experiences.

  • Support and understanding from those who've walked similar paths.

But the thing is, driving an hour each way once a week for an activity is NOT community. Many say they are searching for community but really they just want experiences they can “feel good” at and about.

But community isn't just about the feel-good moments or the easy camaraderie. It's about the messiness of life shared, the shared weight through thick and thin. It's about those years of shared experiences that knit us closer, sometimes through gritted teeth.

• What True Community Is:

  • A commitment to stick together, even when it's tough.

  • Shared history and experiences that bind us, not just shared interests.

  • The willingness to be vulnerable, to give and receive support.

My sad but true story

Years ago in my second year of gardening ever I grew a huge homegrown organic garden, without exaggeration, it was like a private farmers market. I was even featured in the local newspaper and gave tours of my garden.

Just at the beginning of harvest season, we had to go away for two weeks. I told my next-door neighbor with 3 growing boys and a husband to “please eat down the huge bounty”. She told me she would. When I came home 2 weeks later I found an overgrown garden filled with pounds and pounds of rotten fruits and vegetables.

Furious I went next door practically in tears asking her why she never ate from my garden and, instead just let the food go to waste. She said, “I didn’t feel comfortable, my husband told me it was silly but I didn’t let him go either”. She was so wrapped up in her insecurities about receiving she didn’t allow anyone else to either.

Many people think they are in community but they are actually in
collectives.

How can you tell if you’re living in a collective vs. a community?

• In a collective, you’re more likely to have to pay your next-door neighbor’s 13-year-old daughter to babysit your child while you have a few hours away to see a movie.

• In the middle of cooking, you realize you’re missing a key ingredient. You don’t dare knock on your neighbor’s door. You’d rather go a few miles to the nearest supermarket to buy rather than borrow.

And here's where we draw the line between community and what many of us experience today—collectives. A collective might gather us around a shared hobby or cause, but it lacks the depth of a community. It's based on "what's in it for me?" rather than "what's in it for us?"

• Community vs. Collective:

  • Community is built on deep, enduring ties and mutual support.

  • Collectives are more about shared interests than shared lives.

The sad truth is, as we've moved away from the family farms and close-knit communities, we've lost a piece of ourselves in the process. When we gave up on those tight circles where everyone is expected to pitch in, whether you wanted to or not, we didn't just leave a place; we left a part of us behind.

• The Cost of Losing Community:

  • A sense of isolation, even in a crowd.

  • The loss of a genuine support network that can catch you when you fall.

  • A diminishing sense of belonging and identity.

Circling back to my neighbor and the garden full of veggies left to rot.

Why would she do this?

You might realize it’s not just a tale of wasted food, and if you dig a little deeper, you find it's a rich soil of psychological and emotional truths about giving, receiving, and the essence of community versus the shell of collectives.

First off, understand that my neighbor, like many, was caught in a trap of hoarding.

Yes, hoarding.

Not the kind where you can't throw away newspapers from 1995, but a subtler, more insidious kind. Emotional hoarding. Yes, She hoarded her vulnerabilities behind a façade of self-sufficiency, in a neighborhood where wealth supposedly insulated you from need.

The Why Behind Hoarding:

• Fear of Vulnerability: Accepting help, or even fresh veggies, can feel like admitting a lack. My neighbor's refusal was wrapped up in insecurity, a fear that taking might reveal a weakness or a need she wasn't comfortable acknowledging.

• Ego and Identity: In a well-off community, there's an unspoken belief that you've "bought your way out of needing." My offer clashed with her self-image and the neighborhood's ethos. It wasn't just vegetables; it was a challenge to her identity, a suggestion that she, too, might need support.

Material vs. Meaningful:

This incident exposes the truth between material wealth and meaningful connections. We live in a world that tells us security can be bought, and that success is measured by the lack of need.

But what happens when we're faced with a simple, human act of sharing?

Too often, we decline, not because we're ungrateful, but because we’d rather suffer denying the truth; “we need each other.”

Acts of kindness become the worst offenders.

Security in Things vs. Relationships: Our society prizes accumulation over connection. But in hoarding things or emotions, we're often left feeling more isolated, not less. My neighbor's actions were a defense mechanism, a way to maintain an illusion of independence in a world that values self-reliance above all.

A Lesson in the Law of Reciprocity

There's another, less cynical reason why my former neighbor refused my "free food." I believe we all have a natural urge to repay each other for value received as a form of gratitude. Perhaps she couldn't fathom what she could "give back" in return for the bounty. If she's going to maintain that "she doesn't need me" in this neighborhood, then what could I possibly need from her?

Unfortunately, she didn't grasp the Law of Reciprocity, as she operates within a "collective" rather than a "community" mindset.

Let me illustrate my point.

A week after arriving in San Miguel, I was out with my husband when a woman invited us to the dance floor for the last song of an amazing Cuban singer. My husband declined, but I seized the opportunity. To be honest, my "insecurities" had kept me seated earlier.

After the song, she introduced herself. Learning that we had only been back in San Miguel for a week after a 5-year hiatus, her excitement was palpable.

She immediately offered herself as our "welcome wagon." She shared that when she first arrived, a woman had helped her get situated in San Miguel, with her only request being that she "pay it forward." I must admit, my heart warmed. As a fellow "greeter" and people "gatherer," it felt like both of us were completing a cycle of the upward spiral of giving and receiving in a universal sense.

What my former neighbor misunderstood is that the law of reciprocity, or "give and receive," isn't a barter system. It's not a matter of this for that. That isn't true giving or receiving. That's merely an exchange, essentially a commercial transaction.

Had she understood this, she would have known to, at the very least, pass those vegetables on to someone else. If she didn't "need" or want them, she could have "paid it forward" to keep the cycle of giving going, which is the natural order of things. Instead, she halted it, affirming her "need" to handle life entirely on her own.

Breaking Down Barriers: How Vulnerability Fosters Genuine Connections

Showing vulnerability by giving and receiving without expectation can rebuild the bridges community once stood upon. Reflecting on my neighbor's hesitance, it becomes clear that the fear of not being able or even wanting to reciprocate held her back, a barrier many of us face in different forms.

• Vulnerability as Strength: Recognizing that vulnerability is not a weakness but a source of strength is the first step in dismantling these barriers. It's about having the courage to say, "I see you, I trust you, and I'm here for you," without expecting the ledger to balance.

  Fostering Connections: When we give without expecting anything in return, we cultivate a space for authentic relationships to thrive. It's not about keeping score; it's about nurturing a sense of belonging and community that enriches everyone involved.

  Embrace Gratitude and Growth: Receiving without feeling indebted allows us to open ourselves to gratitude and personal growth. It's seeing the gift not as a debt to be repaid but as an opportunity to deepen our connections and broaden our capacity for generosity.

Giving as Receiving: The Cycle of True Generosity

The story of the woman on the dance floor in San Miguel illustrates the essence of true giving. She extended her hand in welcome, not because she expected anything in return but because she was continuing a cycle of generosity she herself had benefited from. This act of giving was, in fact, a form of receiving—a shared moment of joy, connection, and the continuation of a tradition of kindness.

• The Law of Reciprocity Reimagined: True giving is about enhancing a cycle of generosity that lifts everyone. It's knowing that what we contribute comes back to us, not directly, but as part of the collective well-being.

• Paying It Forward: If my neighbor had adopted this mindset, those vegetables could have fed not just her family but others too, multiplying a simple act of kindness and sustaining the giving cycle.

The Path Forward: From Individualism to Collective Well-being

The role of individual action in crafting a community is key. Each of us holds the power to initiate change, to extend a hand, to open our hearts to the possibilities that come from genuine, unguarded interactions.

The Power of Vulnerability: Taking the First Step:

Confronting Our Egos: The first step towards true community is confronting our own egos. It's recognizing that needing and being needed are not weaknesses but the very foundations of strength. My neighbor, leaving my garden to spoil, was a missed opportunity for connection, a moment where the ego won over community.

• Building Bridges: True community is built on the willingness to be vulnerable, to give without strings, and to receive with grace. It's about moving beyond the transactional nature of collectives, where interactions are measured by personal gain, and stepping into the messy, beautiful reality of shared lives.

• Creating Meaningful Connections: The path forward involves moving beyond the superficiality of collectives to forge deep, meaningful relationships. It's about finding common ground, sharing our stories, and embracing our collective humanity.

So, what's the takeaway from our journey into community and connection?

• Community is Key: Real, heartwarming connections enrich our lives.

• Vulnerability is the First Step: It opens the door to genuine relationships.

• True Connection Goes Deeper: Beyond social groups and activities, it's about the real, raw interactions.

• Hoarding Is a Sign: Accumulating things often masks a deeper need for connection.

• Generosity Unites: Giving is the cornerstone of building a strong community.

• Barriers Must Fall: Breaking down walls between us fosters a sense of belonging.

• Action Is Necessary: Moving from individualism to collective “well-being” requires effort from each of us.

In the end, the path to a life filled with meaningful connections and a true sense of community demands more from us than just showing up. It requires a willingness to give more than we take, and the courage to tear down the barriers that keep us isolated.

The real magic of human experience lies not in what we have, but in what we share and the communities we build together.

P.S.

Here is my new friend who rolled out the welcome wagon for me here in San Miguel. This newsletter is dedicated to people like her and you all over the world. Thanks for receiving enough to give of yourself.