On Friday, I was on my way to a friend for a morning tea and pastry. Just as I was about to leave the park and cross the road, I saw my neighbour, whom I hadn't stopped to chat with for a long time. But a neighbour we always say hello to in passing.
This neighbour lives a couple of doors down, and the other day, Ali and I had been chatting about something peculiar we'd both noticed but hadn't voiced to each other.
In a world as wild as this, I think more and more about my neighbours.
Back in our old house, we had OK neighbours, and then when my cat went missing (was stolen), it was a shit show of abuse from a bunch of Tory-voting 60+ somethings (I generalise). We realised we lacked the community we needed.
I always think about community, probably because I don't have a decent immediate family community. I think about friendships, family and my immediate surroundings.
One day in the park, I was chatting to a neighbour. I really like the guy and noticed we hardly talk despite him having a young daughter. I introduced him to another neighbour in the park. While we were chatting, I mentioned two other neighbours. "How do you know so many on the street?"
"How do you not," I retorted, knowing he'd lived on the street for many more years than we had.
And that's what I find upsetting in today's society (apart from 2345 other things, ofc)- but the fact that so many make such little effort to chat to their neighbours. Perhaps it's because we live digitally, and if we need a screwdriver, pair of lopers, or eggs, then it's all within the phone. An Amazon Prime or Deliveroo click later. I dunno.
With my neighbours, we have different and sometimes nourishing relationships. We babysit swap with one, childcare swap and BBQ with another, borrow the odd tool from one, have chats and get pears from their tree with another, dog walk/ school run swap and have playdates with another, say hello every time with others, have had building advice from a couple, put out the bins for some. The list goes on.
As we look at a world falling down around to our ankles, stripping us bare to assess what's really going on and encouraging us to sit in vulnerability while feeling helpless. I feel like the one thing we can do is check-in and be more supportive of our neighbours. As we open up conversations with the one we thought was a bit of a dick and realise they have a lot of other shit going on, what a joy that interaction could become.
Is it perfect on my wholesome street? Nope. It's a cacophony of people bundled into terraced houses. There are my immediate neighbours telling me how they dislike the noise my children make through WhatsApp video recordings of said children, and the ones I'm nice to but still get pissed off with every time they insist on just abandoning their car on the street when parking is a challenge.
I said hello to this neighbour in the park, but then I called back to him…
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