Imagine this possibility …
It’s a Saturday morning in June 2029, and it’s one of those ones that makes Vancouver feel like the best darn place to live on the planet. Birds chirping, leaves rustling, warm sun in the city and snow still hanging on up on the North Shore mountains. This weekend there’s a gathering, and a special one at that. To celebrate the coming of Summer, the events team has moved things down to Jericho Beach instead of the usual community space. So you wrestle yourself (and/or partner! or kids! or roommate!) out of bed and start heading down.
When you arrive at the park, you’re not surprised to see mostly everyone here bustling about before things get going. A few of the older kids are playing in the nearby grove of trees and those that aren’t are trying to 10 on 1 the local 20-year-old soccer star (without much success it seems). The younger ones are toddling around on the nearby playground with a few adults and teens standing by to make sure they stay safe. Most of the adults are chatting, picking things up where they left off from the last gathering, or from the hiking trip they went on together the weekend before, and some even from that crazy party at Beaumont last Friday. By now it seems everyone, young and old, knows the rhythm and so your kids (or partner or roommate!) break off from you to join the hubbub.
The snippets of conversation you hear as you say hello to folks are all over the place. After a vote, a committee was recently formed to put pressure on city hall to not abandon its sustainability commitments and some of them are discussing the launch of a letter writing and social media campaign. Others are talking about the unfortunate performance of their picks for the society’s unofficial fantasy hockey league. More still about plans for a wacky pop-up art exhibit to bring to events around the city during the summer and fall. Some people are just sitting quietly, enjoying moments of comfortable alone time around their people and taking in the beauty of the morning.
At 10am, it’s announced over the PA that things are about to start. People call out to kids in the grove and they come running, some with more enthusiasm than others. The little ones are haphazardly shepherded in. Some take seats with their parents, others choose the quiet play stations set up nearby. Your roommate (or partner!) takes a seat next to you.
Things begin as they always do, with a short check-in with the folks immediately around you. As they feel comfortable, small circles of people share the things that have brought them joy and the things that have brought them struggle. You hear that someone’s parent has been released from the hospital. For a time it was looking serious. Truthfully, you’ve been a little sore with them over how a recent policy disagreement was handled, yet you feel the relief on their face reflected in your own as they share their news. Another younger member has recently come out to their family and unfortunately it was about as hard as they thought it might be. You squeeze their hand and make a mental note to check in with them soon.
The crowd is welcomed and today’s speaker is introduced: a certified counsellor specializing in relationships. They step up to the microphone and begin with strategies that seem to genuinely work if you’re looking for your person this summer. And then how to take a step back from the intensity of family life without guilt and use the heat of the season to find time for passion with your partner. And finally something about being a present in-law, with ways to pass along your cherished summer traditions to the next generations in a way that works for everyone. You take a moment to reflect on the needs in your life and as usual, you can see how much of this might genuinely be helpful. You also notice many heads nodding along, and you’re sure that parts of this will be taken and added like building blocks to a growing culture everyone has been contributing to for the better part of the last few years. Suffice to say, for a 30-minute talk, there’s been some good information here.
People clap and the speaker thanks them and exits stage left. There will be time for questions later. For now, the life of the gathering moves forward. The children who were playing quietly are asked to join the group and someone else steps up at the front. They have a guitar slung around their shoulders and a grin from ear to ear. Lyric sheets are quietly passed around. “Here Comes the Sun” is printed on them. The guitarist begins, the familiar sounds of the jangly intro coming strong through the PA. And then the voices of the people gathered: “Here comes the sun, Little Darling, here comes the sun…”. By now, many people choose to sing, liking the tune and knowing there isn’t a hint of judgement. But some are still just happy to listen, taking in the music of the gathering.
After the song ends, the guitarist makes their way off (with a somehow even bigger grin) as someone else takes their place at the microphone. They invite everyone to close their eyes and breathe to a slow and steady rhythm together. You inhale and exhale, feeling a little bit more grounded every time you do. And as you do, you listen to everyone around you doing the same. Somehow it feels like a pulse. Of something alive and something whole. 
You’re then asked to listen and notice the world around you now in this moment. To the sounds of the birds chirping in the trees and people enjoying themselves down at the beach. You feel the gentle breeze on your face and your feet planted in the grass. And you’re left there for some time. Finally, they ask how amazing it is to be here with the people we love, surrounded by such life and beauty. They invite you to set an intention for the season. Something that would make you proud of yourself when you reflect back in September. You know exactly what yours is, and you smile as you recite it to yourself. They finish with letting you know you can open your eyes whenever you feel ready.
The chair of the board has one item. A reminder that two proposals have been put to society members for a vote. At the last gathering, some extra time was made for those championing these proposals to speak, and you took a careful look at the society website to see exactly what was being suggested. One is a no-brainer, proactively cleaning up some conflict of interest rules that got overlooked at founding. The other one you’re not sure will pass: opening up the possibility of creating new chapters. On the one hand, more chapters could be wonderful. It opens up so many possibilities for member mobility and putting something good out into the world. As things stand now though, many seem to feel it’s premature for the size of the society, and risks biting off more than the society can chew right now. It may not get the supermajority of votes it needs. It’s a big decision. Tonight you’ll go home and reread things once more before casting your ballot electronically on a secure website.
It’s now 11:00 and everyone rises from their seats. Some volunteers are rounded up to start getting the meal ready. Usually it’s a potluck, but today it’s a feast from a favourite Kitsilano restaurant. It smells amazing, and you know you’ll be plenty hungry for it. For everyone else, it’s free time together. Many head to the beach while the usual suspects stay and pepper the speaker with questions (they still seem to be enjoying themselves though). A few folks have brought instruments — guitars, mandolins, shakers, hand drums — and are playing on the grass. Some of the toddlers shake and shimmy around them while a lot of folks just listen. That’s what you and your partner (or roommate or kids!) decide to do now. You sit and chat and joke around, soaking in the vibes. You glance over and notice one of the new members giving some very definite looks toward the person playing the tambourine… who you just happen to know is single. How interesting!
A little while later, the food is ready and folks are called back. It looks as good as it smells. Everyone lines up and shuffles past the food, heaping portions of this and that onto their plates. You sit down and look around at the folks happily munching. There’s kids and teens and university students and young couples and parents and grandparents of all stripes. There’s laughter and chat. More conversations about the news and the causes to support and where help is needed. More plans being made to get the families together this coming week or possible times for playdates. More hikes and adventures in the works. More folks contentedly chomping down their food, just enjoying being here. And the new person seems to have scored themselves a seat next to the tambourine player. Apparently they’re both training for their first half marathon…
Today has been a very good day. In fact, the last few years have been good. Nothing is perfect, not by a long shot. The problems of the world aren’t solved. The hardships of life haven’t abated. There’s still the challenges of living in an expensive city. You still have to go to work every day. There’s still family, partner and friend problems. Goodness knows even operating in this community can be a challenge sometimes. But together you’re building something here. A place where people have your back when things get hard or heavy, and you have theirs. A place of strength to celebrate life from. A place to build relationships that could last a lifetime. A place to stand on the things that matter most. A place built to be hard to fall out of, no matter what comes at you. By now you know that whatever the world throws at you, you’ll be on solid ground. Because what you’re all building together is a bedrock.
Obviously, none of this is real yet. But it could be.