It’s a Stranger Neighbor World
invitations
“To be resilient is to be engaged, creative, adaptive, and relational.
It’s to remember that you are a part of this world. It is the opposite of isolation and habitual protection.”
Prentis Hemphill What it Takes to Heal (p. 42)
Odd corners, mystery trees, fairy-habitat bushes and bramble, and ramshackle fences with unexpected angles were part of the outside space
of this new place that
my evolved to unconventional family moved to last Fall.
The inside of this new home holds sunlight so generously. All winter I followed its “hello, darling” warmth from room to room throughout the day, and this Spring and Summer back outside to the trees that have bloomed into names: pear, peach, and
in ripe now explosion:
the sour cherry.
New spaces also mean unknown neighbors and not here yet community.
Most of my dears live an interstate drive or zoom call away. Although so grateful for these connections, I am in full longing for Together near. I want to notice and grow it Here.
The neighborhood portion of connection quest started this winter with plates of Christmas treats. One neighbor reciprocated by passing on cool vintage t-shirts to kiddo. The others have not mentioned yet how tasty those candied pecans were and I find myself wondering if they are allergic to nuts. (Yes that was also a metaphor pun about quirky and super adorable but often awkward and definitely into more wild pattern mixing than is typical me.)
Last week, kiddo and I burst out the front door to breathe in a sherbert sunset. Cool t-shirt neighbor was walking by my fence. He said, “oh! Hi! What kind of fruit is this?” Yours! I thought, but just answered, “Cherry I think.” But I don’t think, I know. Like I know, What if we both taste this curiosity? is a potent Together portal.
Enter: Fence Fruit
The next day, I broke out my crafting laminator and made an invitational sign. My first sight of response was two scooters propped against the fence while their tween owners jumped for the cherries on the high branches. Next came the young family from the corner with the full stroller of little ones. I hope we all make it a yearly tradition as they grow.
Not all the neighbors have come to the fence fruit. Some call out connection from across the street. A few houses over and down, a fellow I’ve “hey there”-ed once shouted over to us, “Want to see something amazing!” and when we crossed over, demonstrated a trick he learned from TikTok about how to shine up your headlights with bug repellent. The difference between his two headlights -examples of before and after- was amazing. I said so, while thinking, You are the amazing thing. Thank you for inviting connection through an oh wow, look at this neat thing!
Now the grape vines as tall as my head are starting to spill onto the sidewalk and will lead in late summer to more sign craft. I’ve already planned “Feel free to grab a grape.” The blackberry bramble at the weird wedge edge of the fence has hundreds of berries that will ripen in the next few weeks. They may take a careful hand to ease out from among the thorns, but what pleasure, what community doesn't have its pokey bits to navigate?
I tried to use the “oh wow look at your neat thing (flower)!” connector with another neighbor who was out weeding weeding weeding. She wasn’t in people mode though, and did not mention the cookies we had left with a note at their door before. Maybe, it will just take time. Or maybe it gives me a chance to accept that seasons for share or just co-existence are part of life together too. In either case, I am also learning to treasure the richness of an honest now.
Yesterday, we harvested cherries again from the side of the fence passersby can’t reach. The birds and bugs have enjoyed theirs and still left so many. We picked the brightest, deepest red and baked a sour cherry cobbler for us and one to give away. After trying several unanswered doorbells, we ended up at unmet yet neighbors three houses over who moved here a few months after us. They talked about Ellen on their other side who has offered extras from her pear tree, and of their own tall apple that had been neglected before they came, but will be getting care from an arborist coming next week. I'll ask him to come look at my trees too. We can tend and nourish our future fruit exchange together.
We humans long to belong: to ourselves, to each other. Even with our odd and very different,
our locked up places and only come this far comfort levels we Care.
We invite. We follow our curiosity and try.
With across the fence berries and driveway cobblers, TikTok tips and t-shirt exchanges
We weave Tend(er) and Together —
living into being the belonging we want
in this stranger neighbor world.
Fence fruit is:
Belonging found in the odd edges (yours, mine, and ours)
Letting curiosity be a next-thing portal
Authenticity I nourish by tending to what feels juiciest
Questioning “yours” and “mine” (and honoring it too)
Noticing who is calling me over
That sweet and sour, bramble and berry Together Life.
Book recs and h/t for deeping understanding and imagination of belonging:
What It Takes To Heal by Prentis Hemphill
Radical Friendship by Kate Johnson
Reflections/Invitations
(or just stop at the essay’s end. It can be enough to just feel.)
What grows at your odd edges?
What could happen if you let yourself both taste and share its sour-sweet fruit?
What are you longing for?
Where might it be already present in your life even in small amounts?
How could you notice or tiny step towards growing that longing Here even 1% more today?
Connecting with stranger neighbors:
Try out a “Oh, wow! Look at this neat thing!” (theirs or yours or a nature moment like a sunset or wild wind). What becomes possible next?
Notice who around you makes a few seconds more eye contact, who invites you in with comments on the weather or says, “nice shirt!”
How can you add even a bit more connection to that moment?
What does your body feel like when you do?
If you would like support tuning in and tending to your longing for belonging
I would love to work with you
in a 1:1 somatic coaching + thought partnering session.