Future Neighbor Highlight: Finding “Our People” – Larry’s Journey

For the better part of a decade, I’d been working toward a plan that abruptly came to a halt last October. My wife and I had a small veggie garden in our mostly shaded, suburban lot, but big dreams to translate what we learned into starting our own homestead once our youngest daughter graduated from high school. We were saving money to give us the freedom to disconnect from full time jobs ahead of a typical retirement, and learning new skills that could be useful in our partially self-sufficient utopia. I’d be in my mid-fifties when we hit our target to move out to a rural area and dig in. You might already be thinking that sounds more like a fantasy than a goal, but readers of The Good Life will understand how we could think that at that age we could start our homestead adventure. After all, Scott and Helen Nearing moved to rural Vermont at a similar age, built their own stone house from what they dug out of their land to create a garden that fed them through all four seasons of the year, and then taught others across multiple generations how to achieve similar goals. 

Then, in the span of one year, I sprained an ankle that wouldn’t heal, severed a bicep tendon resulting in corrective surgery, and strained a shoulder leading to several months of physical therapy. At only 51, and still 3 years away from the first shovel full of homestead dreams. All of a sudden thinking about our future didn’t come with excitement and motivation to get there sooner. Instead, I started feeling anxiety and dread about the work involved if my body broke down in the midst of it. Mid-fifties didn’t sound young anymore, and the idea of a rural, mostly off-grid cabin lost its lustre. 

In a particularly despairing moment, my wife remembered how much I enjoyed an internship I did with a local cohousing community to learn regenerative farming and composting techniques a few years prior. It was hard work, but I always came away feeling accomplished and encouraged by the camaraderie of the group. What if we could find a cohousing project that was a bit further into rural surroundings, where it might be possible to keep our dream of growing food well and living lightly on the land, but without the isolation of a personal homestead? We knew we had been inspired by the friendship and mutual care we’d seen demonstrated in cohousing, so it was worth at least a look. After about 30 minutes browsing the web, we stumbled upon Rooted Northwest. 

We attended an info session the next day, went on a farm tour the same week, and became regulars at the monthly work-party events in Arlington. After the first couple of visits, we knew we liked the people. After a couple of months, we were certain they weren’t just a nice group of people - these are definitely “our people.” We leave every meeting, every social gathering, every work party feeling energized (ok, admittedly after the work parties we are physically exhausted, but mentally energized by the sense of accomplishment that only a day of working alongside good friends can bring). 

If you’re considering cohousing and don’t mind living in one of the most beautiful places on earth, then I hope you will come visit.