New Venue, Same Village

Modern times in the West have often been accused of breaking up our families and villages. With the increase in walmarts, mobility, suburbanization and the “self” many have commented that we no longer walk down the street to meet with our butcher or walk across the street to chat with our neighbor and we spend more time on cell phones or at the gym than with our loved ones having a real connection.

Perhaps there is some truth there. In my travels through villages without all of these modern accoutrements, they do seem to have a more obvious connection to each other – spending extra time chatting with the banana seller at the market, visiting at the temple, living under one roof with three sometimes four generations.

But maybe its just the obviousness of the connection? An old friend of mine who lives in Denver received a call a few weeks ago that all of us hope we never receive. His wife, pregnant with their second child, found out she had just tested positive for either stage 3 or 4 diffuse large b-cell lymphoma. He jumped on the next plane back to Denver from Washington D.C. with the emotional support of strangers along the way. As a seasoned writer, he decided to start a blog – so he didn’t have to relay the same nightmares over and over, so friends and family could have a venue to share their support, so they could connect.

The writing is beautiful - raw and real, comments spanning the globe from family, friends, friends of friends, complete strangers. And maybe its not the local butcher or chatting with out neighbor across the street, but the same village energy is there. In the face of tragedy and grief there is love and support and rebuilding….the village may be destroyed by war or drought or persecution or injustice, but across the world the village comes together to rebuild.