23/11/2025
The last 3 weeks living in a co-living community in the mountains has been nothing like I expected.
I landed right in the middle of a moving, melting, constantly-changing group of humans, different languages, cultures, rhythms, wounds, and communication styles all swirling under the same roof.
And something old in me switched on immediately:
The facilitator. The regulator. The one who smooths things over, fixes misunderstandings, holds, rescues.
The one who creates the safety I need by creating safety for everyone else first.
It’s a role I know well.
Part of me wants to step up and “fix” the dynamics for the group.
To educate, solve, listen.
And yet there is another part of me whispering to let it all fall.
I’m noticing how hard it is to let misunderstandings unfold without stepping in.
How uncomfortable it feels to watch tension rise and not mediate.
It turns out I’ve learnt to support others as a way to feel safe myself.
And now I’m here, in this wild ecosystem of people, learning a totally new skill:
How to participate without holding.
How to belong without over-giving.
How to feel safe without rescuing.
How to be ok with being misunderstood.
How to stay connected without disappearing.
I’m learning to sit with my discomfort.
Some days I get it right.
Some days I slip back into old patterns.
Some days I want to run and leave.
Some days I want to speak up and fix it all.
Living in community is confronting… but it’s also one of the richest mirrors I’ve ever stepped into.
It’s revealing the parts of me that are tired, tender, beautifully trained, and also ready for a new rhythm.
I don’t have a conclusion yet, but I’m here for now, continuing to learn.
Community is no joke, especially within a group of humans you didn’t choose to live with.
Words from my heart, finding my way within the Valencian Mountains 🌿