Village needs Villagers

Everyone wants a village. Very few want to be villagers.

We like the idea of community, but not the effort it demands. Real connection comes with friction; noise, interruptions, and some annoyances. That inconvenience is the price of belonging.

Somewhere along the way, avoiding discomfort turned into hyper-independence: strict boundaries, optimized routines, and zero tolerance for interruption. Instead of borrowing sugar from a neighbor, we tap a screen and get it delivered in ten minutes. Efficient. Isolated.

When boundaries get too rigid, they stop protecting us and start cutting us off. Then we wonder why we feel lonely. We paid for convenience with disconnection. We traded the mess of community for the neatness of solitude.

We retreat into private bubbles: perfect schedules, online interactions, everything on demand. Convenience becomes our comfort. But comfort doesn’t build society. Presence does. Community grows from showing up, tolerating awkwardness, and choosing people over efficiency.

If we want the village back, we have to learn how to be villagers again. Say yes more often. Join things. Talk to your neighbors. Greet strangers. Be part of something imperfect, inconvenient, and real.