Last night at a Christmas gathering, we raised a glass to a friend recently lost. Someone who has had a profound influence on how we live today in Prince George. This loss shows just how fast time passes and how truly short life is.
We reminisced about our friend's intensity and drive, not only as a builder, but as a leader. Influenced by M. Scott Peck's The Road Less Travelled, it was his vision and fierce determination in the mid 1990s that led 10 other adults with 19 children combined to purchase a quarter section of land and build an intentional community. Only a man of integrity and heart could have accomplished such a feat. The community stands to this day in Prince George, a city that affords dreams coming to fruition.
As we remembered our friend, stories were shared that showcased his talent, work ethic and zest for life. It was due to his superhuman efforts that buildings shot up one by one on our commonly owned land. His philosophy "to just start walking" was premium fuel for the effort.
Someone told how they would lay awake at night, probably because they've studied physics for years, trying to configure how logs should be placed to build a cabin. Without skipping a beat, this man would say, "what do you mean? Just do it like this."
And that is exactly what they did.
Two others spoke of how they were discussing how to move a heavy beam by hand. Strategies and measurements were being carefully considered when he suddenly appeared, grabbed one end of the beam and said, "this is how you get it moved, you pick it up and start walking." There were other tales of humorous mishaps and falls exhibiting his strength and agility as he conquered projects one by one.
"He'll make an excellent framer" is what our friend said to himself when he met a long time community member and social worker for the very first time and in fact he did. The funny thing is, a decade later our friend in turn became an excellent social worker. The irony makes me smile.
Many of us agree that in the history of our community, the building of the houses was a special time of unity. All the struggle and a common goal brought lives together to produce something quite incredible. Something bigger than ourselves.
This was the reason we decided to have an outdoor wedding on that snowy day in May, in the centre meadow of the property. I remember tents, dramatic fires, music, potluck and a wedding cake decorated with replicas of each building in celebration of our community. It was a cherished moment in time that cemented many relationships and irrevocably broke others.
It is a common thread in all of us to be accepted, to belong, and to find ways to devote our lives to something meaningful. I was hopeful that intentional community was the answer. Sadly, it was not. If I am honest, our intentional community is still an unfolding experiment that has brought people together in deeply meaningful and lifelong friendships, while at the same time caused a great deal of pain and division. Perhaps it would be more accurate and to the point if we had called it intentional relationships.
Our friend who has left us was bold and brave. He had the courage to do more than just seek; over and over he chose to "just start walking."
We were fortunate to have walked with him for a time.
