For a few glorious months in 2021, I had the kind of “best friend is your neighbor” setup that most adults only dream of.

My friend Sneh and her partner Gyula lived across the pool from me. (Gyula is also my friend, but this is a tribute to Sneh, so he’s “the partner.” He’ll both give me a hard time about this and fully delight in her getting the spotlight.)

Literally. Across the pool.

We were on the magical island of Koh Phangan, Thailand and staying in villas that shared a pool.

We were surrounded by beauty and, more importantly, we were surrounded by each other.

Sneh would be on a work call and I’d pop in to drop off some water.

I’d open the door to sage my place and she’d shout, “Yoo hoo.”

Every day, EVERY day, we delighted in each other’s presence.

It was magical.

On Saturday, when I texted a friend to see if she had dinner plans, a fierce wave of yearning washed over me. When Sneh and I lived in Koh Phangan, there were no, “Do you have dinner plans?” texts. There was walking in, flopping down on the couch and saying, “What are we doing for dinner tonight?”

I can feel Saturday’s yearning in my solar plexus even now, as I write this.

Local communities. Neighbors. Soul-fulfilling relationships: these topics have been very top of mind for me lately.

My brother Shrek is currently closing on a home that will place him within walking distance of John, one of his best friends from growing up.

My college bestie, Julie, just shared an Instagram story of her and Jackie, one of her besties, with their babies. They were out celebrating being neighbors again for the first time since high school.

That yearning: it’s getting stronger. Both the embodied feeling of it as I write this and the overall yearning for this to be my reality.

I listened to a fascinating thinker (Tad Hargrave) on a podcast the other day. He focused on the difference between online communities and local communities.

And, with no mincing of words, he came down in favor of local communities. Online communities cannot replace in-person ones. Yes, use the Internet to learn things, he said. Connect with world-class teachers, healers, thought leaders. Then, go use what you learn to connect with and serve people in your local community.

A few months ago, I don’t know that I would have been open to hearing that. “Local communities don’t always have what we want, Tad,” I might have thought. “Finding people with aligned interests who are also our neighbors may not be possible for all of us.”

And it may not be. But here’s something interesting that’s happened to me over the last few weeks.

When I came back to Shenzhen in July, after a fulfilling but draining trip home, I noticed something when I crossed the border. I didn’t feel excited. I felt sad. I grieved, actually. There I was, locking myself back in a country where the things I wanted, much less a community to do those things with, didn’t seem to exist.

Not quite how you want to feel upon returning home, is it?

But that’s when it got interesting. Prompted by my dissatisfaction, I opened my mouth. “Hello, anyone who will listen,” I said. “It really bothers me that I can’t find fulfilling ways to connect with people here. It feels like there are a thousand options for happy hours but no Qigong, no howling at the moon, no ‘put it all out there’ women’s gatherings.”

Then one thing after another unfolded until I ended up at a yoga retreat, sharing a room with a woman named Natasha. “Listen,” she said, upon hearing my struggle, “I’ve lived in China for 5 years and there’s a truth you have to accept: if the community you want doesn’t exist, you have to build it. No one else is going to do it.”

The next day, a group called, “Holistic Wellness & Spirituality” was born. And yesterday, we gathered for a Sunday sound healing.

Is my itch fully scratched? Not yet. There’s part of me that thinks the appropriate response to this fierce longing is to begin making plans to move home. But are things getting better? Yes.

So, here I am, both yearning for something I don’t yet have and taking action to get it. 

Living in the in-between. Trying to navigate it with as little suffering as possible. 

I suppose we’ll see how it unfolds, won’t we?

Sending love and my wishes that you have the kind of setup I had in Koh Phangan,