I am Abbie, mother to 5 year old Kai, and a perpetual adventurer. We recently moved into Treehouse Village. I’m grateful for all the work that went into creating this village, and I’m looking forward to Kai and I being part of the next chapter.
Twenty years ago, adventure to me was exploring new places and cultures, as I also explored who I was and how I could contribute to a world I wanted to live in. Ten years ago, that adventure took more intention as I sought to learn from people who were showcasing elements of that way of living. I mapped out and embarked on a trip to various ecovillage communities (large/small, emerging/established). What started as a 6 month journey turned into 2 years and then a career working with ecovillage communities. I joined the team with the Global Ecovillage Network and supported education and participatory research projects, getting to know the movement across the world.
As fulfilling as that was and still is, it felt somewhat abstract until I could really land in a community that I would call home.These days, I’m finding adventure in the nuance of community life and getting to know my bioregion more deeply. I was born on a tiny island of Bermuda where my family still lives.That was the foundation of my sense of community, and also what made me so curious to widen my perspective. I’ve visited more than 30 ecovillages for a few months at a time and collaborated with over 100 more online. I am so inspired by what’s possible but I felt the limit to what I can understand as only a “pollinator”. Now I want to feel the slow accumulation of a shared life.
I am also deeply motivated by the ecological aspects that Treehouse accomplishes. We’re living through a moment where the model of endless growth and consumption is surpassing real limits. Climate change is not something far away in distance or time. A real shift in how we live is not just necessary but overdue. The more I learned about how much we need to change, I felt overwhelmed. I couldn’t become an expert in renewable energy, efficient building, regenerative agriculture and all the things. But I can collaborate with others and offer my energy and skills in other ways while still learning.
In the first few weeks at Treehouse, my son and I quickly got a feel for the rhythm here. We’ve joined common meals, from organized with clear roles to spontaneous potlucks where the children barely sit down. I’ve run along the Centennial Trail followed by a workout in the shared gym. I’ve borrowed tools from the shared workshop and found productivity in a quiet corner in the co-working nest. Kai hosted a dance party for ten kids and has been welcomed into neighbours’ homes for playdates and snacks and most of the time can hang out on the common green for a few minutes before being joined by a friend. I’ve been given furniture, veggies, and a listening ear and handed out travel tips, cake, and children’s art supplies.
I’m not looking for utopia, and I don’t expect one. People here come from different backgrounds, with different needs and resources, and tension is a healthy part of any real community, not a flaw in it. I also know that time is a precious resource in community life as well as in parenting a young child, and I will feel that tension in myself, knowing I won’t be able to show up for everything the way I might want to. But I’ve come to see that as part of the deal: community isn’t about doing it all, it’s about trusting that over time, what you give and what you get balance out. What we can offer will be of value to others, even a drawing from my child delivered eagerly to someone’s door, or hosting a friend for a cup of tea.
A more charming challenge has been figuring out the right balance for a 5-year-old who now has fun right outside the door, quite literally, at almost all hours. Some days the hardest part of parenting here is convincing Kai that we do, in fact, need to come inside for quiet time. It’s a good problem to have.
Kai will start Kindergarten at South Shore Waldorf School in September, and I’m looking forward to finding out what adventure looks like for us here: slower, rooted, and surrounded by neighbours who genuinely care. We are ready for the adventure of co-creating belonging and purpose.
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