From ashrams to monasteries and even the mythical mould-free share house, humans have always been drawn to the promise of cohabitation.
We like the idea of an “intentional community”, a space where like-minded individuals can live together and share lives, belongings, ideas, potentially sexual partners and frolic (potentially naked) unbounded by the trappings of capitalism and social expectations.
Maharishi Mahesh Yogi, John Lennon, Cynthia Lennon, Jane Asher and Paul McCartney living a communal lifestyle in India in 1968.Credit: Colin Harrison/Avico/BritBox
But when it comes to actually casting off said shackles (and clothes if you choose to go down that route), few have the commitment to follow through. We like our space, our control, our chemical deodorant. Also, you know, a seemingly endless number of documentary series on cults, mass brain-washings and murder sprees haven’t really helped the commune cause.
Until last year, I wouldn’t have considered myself a commune sort of girl. Honestly, even just sharing a bathroom with the person I love was already a challenge. Then something occurred to shift my thinking – some friends, another couple, moved in a few houses down from me and my partner.
To be fair, living on the same street as your mates is a much looser interpretation of cooperative living than a full-scale commune. But while we’re not sharing a bathroom, the core ideals remain the same.
Beyond the usual good neighbour fare – guarding spare keys, feeding pets, etc – we see each other multiple times a day. Gossip, meals, lawnmowers, utensils, daily stresses, chores, petty grievances and half-finished bottles of wine are constantly shared. Doorbells go un-rung, shoes unworn. It’s as common to drop by in pyjamas as it is jeans.
The four of us were close before they moved in, but now we enjoy the kind of half-formed inner language of siblings. Conversations drop off and pick up halfway through a point as we wander down the road and out of earshot, only to be continued seconds later in our group chat. We already had a young child when they unpacked their boxes, and as soon as our friends moved in she inherited a second set of parents (and we, the support of a second set of hands).
Her usual stranger hangups dissolved with them. Suddenly, we weren’t the only ones who could put her to bed, get her to eat or soothe her after a fall. A few weeks ago, they had their own baby and my partner and I immediately began referring to her as our second-born. Old carriers and newborn gear were pulled out of storage as we prepared to raise another child as a group.
I’m living my best commune life in the ’burbs. Nudity aside, I think we’re onto something
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27.02.2024
From ashrams to monasteries and even the mythical mould-free share house, humans have always been drawn to the promise of cohabitation.
We like the idea of an “intentional community”, a space where like-minded individuals can live together and share lives, belongings, ideas, potentially sexual partners and frolic (potentially naked) unbounded by the trappings of capitalism and social expectations.
Maharishi Mahesh Yogi, John Lennon, Cynthia Lennon, Jane Asher and Paul McCartney living a communal lifestyle in India in 1968.Credit: Colin Harrison/Avico/BritBox
But when it comes to actually casting off said shackles (and clothes if you........
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