The beauty of belonging
And the value of communities - whether in-person or online
Hey friends,
I hope January has been treating you well so far and that your days have been full of snippets of wonder, solid sleep, good coffee, and lovely conversations.
Here, the skies are blue and the sun warm - a little too much so, if you ask me. My socials have been full of friends (and family) playing in the snow and making me miss the winter. I know most folks would swap with me in a heartbeat - and I them. It’s so funny how you always want what you don’t have; although here, the grass is sun-scorched, and there, it’s white and/or muddy.
Perhaps we’ll just have to meet in the middle where it’s green.
Speaking of green… I’ve been missing Cambodia a lot recently - and not just because the grass there always seemed to be green. Perth feels like a sauna in the summer, whereas Cambodia feels like a tropical steam room. Many people hate the humid heat, but I love it.
I also loved that everything seemed to grow there all year round - even me.
Of course, I’m looking back with rose-tinted glasses. But the truth is, it’s one of the only places I’ve ever felt like I belonged.
It was so easy to belong there. I felt like I just arrived there and was suddenly surrounded by all the interesting people I’d been searching for my whole life - the wanderers, the travellers, the misfits, the creatives, the searchers and the seekers, the lovers, the dreamers. All the people wanting to do things a little bit differently.
Sure, there were some oddballs, too, but there were more than enough good eggs to make up for the bad ones.
Truth be told, it was also the first place I ever really felt safe. Which is funny, because it was also the same place a lot of things went wrong. I got robbed many times, including waking up to someone as they reached for my phone under my pillow.
I also lost friends and loved ones. Some died, others lost their health, their minds, and/or their morals. Many lost their businesses, homes, and income to forces far outside their control; like Hun Sen’s backroom deals and China’s Belt and Road Initiative.
While I have many stories I could tell you - especially as someone with a degree in East Asian Studies and first-hand experience of seeing certain things in motion - this probably isn’t the time.
Instead, let’s just say, it was an eye-opening insight into the vast spectrum and experience that is humanity, but I still left feeling loved up on life, the world, and everyone in it.
While some things were frustrating at the time - like when our bike broke down after 2 pm and no amount of money would persuade any mechanic to help us - living there made me want to be a better human and custodian of this beautiful planet.
It also showed me a contrasting way of life to the one I’d grown up with. It cracked me open to a whole other universe of possibilities and felt like the biggest permission slip I’d ever received to live my life the way I wanted to; not just the way that others or society say we should.
Part of that was by actually seeing and feeling the power of community and connection in action.
Take it from me, when you have a group of cheerleaders and people around you who believe in you and see your value and the unique gifts you have to offer the world, you really do feel like you can do anything.
Actually, wait. Maybe not anything, because God knows I would make a terrible mathematician or mechanic, for example, but the things we want to be. Our raison d’être, joie de vivre, or Ikigai: the things that give our lives meaning and help us find a sense of purpose.
In my case, having the support, love, and unwavering confidence of my community gave me the courage to start multiple online businesses. Well, that and being robbed, which certainly helped give me the motivation to get started, too.
People saw my art, graphics, and photography, and commissioned me to work for them. Others noticed that the skills I had as a writer, travel agent, and event organiser were useful for their tourism businesses - they wanted help taking their work to the next level and saw me as someone who could help. Put to the test, I realised I could.
The more I helped my local community, the more my confidence grew.
Soon, I wasn’t just making flyers for beach parties, I was also making logos for influencers and baking companies on the other side of the planet. I wasn’t just writing website content and blog posts for local businesses, I was pitching big-name travel websites and landing high-paying commissions.
Even when things went wrong, I felt like I was on top of the world - I was living my dreams and getting paid for it.
When everything fell apart there, though, the fallout was catastrophic. Everything got caught in the crossfire.
In one fell swoop, I felt like I lost my community and my cheerleaders; all of us scattered around the world like leaves in the wind. I also lost a lot of my confidence - though COVID and the temporary shut-down of the travel writing industry didn’t help with that, either.
Nor did the grief of being thrust into long-distance caregiving for my mum not long after I’d arrived in Australia.
Between that and everything else, I felt like I’d ended up in a realm no one else could really see or understand. Like I’d woken up from some strange seven-year fever dream and ended up in a sprawling concrete jungle filled with humans in high-vis, speeding cars, and labyrinthine tree-less suburbs centred around shopping malls (if you know, you know).
Sure, the beaches here are beautiful and I love the outback, my home, my partner, and my cat, but I’ve never felt like Perth is my kind of place. Although I wasn’t really a city girl to begin with, six years here and I know I’m not. I also still haven’t really found my people - let alone anything even semi resembling the community who lifted me up as I reached for those big dreams many moons ago.
Yet, while my in-person connections may be lacking, my online ones are growing and filling my cup more by the day.
It almost feels as if the trade winds that took all my old crew finally came back to me, bringing with them a wonderful new community of creatives, cheerleaders, changemakers, friends, readers, teachers, mentors, and mentees from across every corner of the planet.
And so, in honour of that, and the beautiful connections that can come together in these spaces, I’m running my first ever online creative circle tomorrow - January 9th - and you’re all invited.
It’s at 8.30am GMT, 4.30pm AWST, and 7.30pm AEDT and is free for all my subscribers. If it calls to you, you can RSVP here. You may want to bring a notebook and a pen, but you can also just show up, too.
Why a circle?
To me, what makes circle spaces different from other programs, workshops, and masterclasses is the way they’re more community-driven.
Sure, there’s a facilitator who supports and holds the space, but everyone gets a chance to share; to be seen, held, heard, and supported, wherever and however they are - a bit like how I felt with my old community in Cambodia.
There, we came together at our best and stayed together at our worst - through dengue, typhoid, loss, and grief.
While all the ups and downs were more visible (and sometimes heightened) there, I see lots of similarities between all our life journeys and our creative ones, too. And, honestly, being seen and feeling supported, celebrated, held, or just like other people are along for the ride makes all the difference - even if it’s just for an hour.
Hosting this circle is a bit of an experiment, but it also feels like a dream come true.
It’s a bit nerve-wracking, but so was packing up my whole life, giving away all my belongings, leaving the world on a one-way ticket, and ending up in Cambodia. There, I found a magical, supportive, loving community with a me-shaped hole in it. Tomorrow, I’m hoping we’ll find the same.
Whether you can join us or not, though, I’m very grateful to you for being here. I’m also always open to seeing you, celebrating you, commiserating with you, and hearing your shares in the comments.
I got many gifts from all those years in Cambodia, but I genuinely believe that the amount of value and joy I get from supporting and uplifting others is one of the best.
Alright! The sun is setting and my sun-crisped garden is calling, so I guess I’d better get out there with my hose and try make my flowers happy.
I’m looking forward to seeing some of you tomorrow and others right here in your inbox again soon!
Sending you so much love,
Cxx
PS: This week’s circle is free for all my subscribers. It’s taking place on Thursday 9th January at 8.30am GMT, 4.30pm AWST, and 7.30pm AEDT. You can find the calendar invitation, links, and RSVP here.
PPS: I’m also still offering a lifetime discount on my Substack membership for anyone who upgrades before January 9th. In the future, I’m planning to run these circles as monthly events for my paid community, along with Q+As, group mentoring, and other perks. If you want to support me and my work, you can also buy me a coffee, like, comment, and share this post with anyone you think might be interested.
This sounds like a beautiful and generous offering, Cassie 💛