07/09/2026
Community.
We use this word a lot.
Sometimes so much that it begins to feel like a buzzword…something we say we value, something we claim to belong to, something we use to describe ourselves.
But community is not something that simply exists because we live in the same place. Community is something we consciously, intentionally, and actively co-create.
It requires effort. It requires participation. It requires showing up…even when it is inconvenient. It requires contributing our time, gifts, resources, labor, creativity, and care. Sometimes it requires working alongside people we may not always agree with—or even necessarily like—because we understand that we share responsibility for the well-being of the place we all call home.
Community is not something we consume.
It is not something other people build FOR us.
It is something we practice.
And last night, Yoga on the River - Pomeroy was a beautiful example of what can happen when people intentionally choose to practice being community.
Yoga on the River does not simply happen. It exists because local businesses invest in making free, accessible wellness possible; teachers share their time and gifts; artists bring beauty and creativity into our shared spaces; and people continue to show up, week after week, to move, breathe, connect, and participate.
Last night, Jenny Stotts generously volunteered her time to guide an incredible hour-long yoga practice. Because she gave her time and expertise, the funds normally allocated to our teacher remained available, allowing us to support another local artist by inviting Evan McCune to fill the evening with live acoustic music as we moved and breathed together.
All of this was made possible through the generous sponsorship of Farmers Bank, whose support allows Yoga on the River to remain free while creating opportunities to intentionally support other people, artists, and small businesses throughout our community.
And because it was National Ice Cream Sundae Day, after practice we walked over to Harlee’s Scoops for ice cream and Mad Batter Cookie Co. Michael and I brought PB & Oreo and Chocolate Chip home to enjoy another day…because we were full after have the PB overload Sunday (add hot fudge) and the circus milkshake! Both were delicious!
As we were leaving Harlee’s Scoops, Taylor shared something that really stuck with me.
She told us it had been a really difficult day because of the construction (and, honestly, it has been a difficult year for many of our local businesses). She wanted everyone who came over after yoga to know how deeply grateful she was.
Our little gathering mattered.
People walking through her doors, ordering ice cream, lingering together, laughing, and connecting made a tangible difference on an otherwise difficult day.
Yes, construction is inconvenient. Sometimes showing up requires finding another place to park, navigating barriers, or walking an extra block. But the small businesses behind those orange barrels still need us…perhaps now more than ever.
Community means supporting our neighbors not only when it is easy, but when there are challenges.
And while all of this was happening at Yoga on the River, Stephanie Rife the president of the Pomeroy Merchants Association—who already volunteers what often amounts to nearly full-time working hours in service to our town—was quietly pulling weeds at Court Street Commons.
There was no applause. No audience. No expectation of recognition. Court Street Commons is not her personal responsibility. She was not doing it because someone assigned her the task or because she would receive anything in return. She was doing it because she saw something that needed care and understood that community requires people willing to contribute to the shared spaces we all benefit from.
That is community, too.
Community is not always the visible gathering.
Sometimes it is live music beside the river, neighbors moving and breathing together, and people walking through town to buy ice cream.
Sometimes it is a local business investing in free opportunities for people to gather.
Sometimes it is a teacher volunteering her gifts so resources can flow toward a local musician.
Sometimes it is choosing to navigate construction rather than telling people to avoid town.
And sometimes it is one person quietly pulling weeds while everyone else is somewhere else—not because it is her responsibility, but because she understands that care requires action.
It is doing work that may never be noticed.
It is caring for something simply because it belongs to all of us.
Our local businesses, and our community, need more than our words.
They need our presence.
They need us to walk around the barriers, find the open doors, spend what we can, share their posts, attend the events, pull the weeds, volunteer our gifts, invite our friends, and notice what needs care.
They need us to remember that our town is still here and still worth showing up for.
Because community is not something we say.
Community is something we do.
And last night, in so many different ways, we practiced being community.
