99 Nights in the Forest and Sardines

There are many things in Arya's life where only Mom will do. Given the choice between "do you want Mom to take you to the pool or Dad?", for example, she will always choose Mom. But one the strength of that one epic game of sardines last year, the family overnight is one of those things where she actively favors me. So, that's what we're doing right now. I'm writing this while we spend some quiet time doing our own thing until people start waking up. I really have no idea how people sleep so late at one of these things.

On its face, this community, this church, is kind of a weird thing. No two of us define spirituality in the same way, and religious practice means something different to all of us. Like, I'm not talking about whether there are times of the year to fast during the day or eat fish, or which chants to use, prayers to say, or sacred texts to revere. It's all highly DIY. There are six basic "be a decent human being and work towards making the world a better place" principles, and that's really it. The joke is that if you ask six UUs what UU means, you'll get six different answers, and that's not wrong.

My experience of it, though, is that each of us has a few things that are extremely important to us, which we regard as their connection to something - be that God, gods, some nebulously defined Divine, or a humanism. For me, that's writing, learning, and a sort of fascination with humanity and its produce (from science, nature, and the arts to families, geeky communities, and people just enjoying a meal together). We don't even proselytize to one another, because what would be the point? My brother, Brian, takes joy in gardening but isn't interested in spending countless hours constructing turns of phrase, for example, and I'm very much the opposite (we once had a very memorable argument on the subject). I can appreciate his love for bringing beauty out of the soil, but I can never share it, and kind of the point is that I can love and celebrate that passion in him despite not feeling it personally.

But get a UU started talking about a thing they're passionate about, and watch their eyes light up. Or get a couple of them together who share the same thing and watch how quickly they descend into convention-level geeking out.

People need communities (says the extrovert). They spring up spontaneously like dandelions if given the smallest excuse. Sporting event? Community. Concert? Community. Political demonstration? Community? Parents at a playground on a pleasant Saturday afternoon? Community.

Some are ephemeral, fading as quickly as they appeared. Others are long-lasting, whether they're a tight-knit social circle who has been doing just about everything together for the last 20 years or that annual family reunion with the aunt who keeps getting you mixed up with one of your cousins. But communities as a whole are eternal and ubiquitous and one of the main ways I access joy in my life.

So, what I've got this weekend is a gaggle of kids running around an empty church building playing classic kid games like sardines (along with a complicated game of playground tag spontaneously conjured up based on the Roblox game 99 Nights in the Forest) and roasting s'mores. We also have a dozen or so parents nominally watching (and occasionally participating in) the kid games while trying to sneak in more serious conversations in the margins.

What a fundamental and timeless human experience!

It's not universal, obviously. Not everyone has (or wants to have) kids. But for those of us who do, it's easy to feel we're participating in a ritual as old as humanity itself. It's more than just observing Creation or appreciating it. It's participation in that miracle of being alive and in a world that, despite its many problems, can still be made better by being part of a community sharing an experience.