We are home again. Home in the way that only comes after you’ve wandered; when your feet touch the soil you know, the birds sound familiar again and the rhythm of your days settles back into place. We returned from Mexico, where we spent time immersed in something that felt both wildly expansive and deeply grounding at the same time: Anarchapulco. For those who haven’t heard of it, Anarchapulco is a gathering of thinkers, creators, freedom seekers and alternative visionaries from all over the world. People come together to question the systems we’ve inherited and imagine new ways of living.. economically, spiritually, socially, and communally.

This year I got to lead Family Camp ~ gathering with families and children from around the world to share game of village, a creative community building program we offer at greenbriar. Kids creating with new friends, parents exchanging ideas about homeschooling, education, intentional living, and the shared desire so many of us feel to raise children closer to the earth and closer to one another. Watching those connections happen so quickly reminded me how natural community actually is. Humans are wired for it. And in a world that feels uncertain, that truth feels more important than ever.

During our time in Mexico, there were also difficult moments unfolding in the wider world around us. News moving quickly, global tensions rising in different places, reminders of how fragile many of the systems we rely on can be. While in Mexico there were moments that made the reality of the world feel very present, the beauty and the complexity existing side by side. Travel has a way of making those contrasts very visible. You can be standing in breathtaking beauty, the ocean stretching endlessly, music spilling into the streets while at the same time being aware that the world is moving through big shifts. And somehow both truths exist at once. 

It was one of those reminders that the times we are living in call for something deeper than comfort. They call for community. People who know your children. People who share meals together. People who show up for one another when things feel uncertain. When systems feel shaky, relationships become the pillar. Being surrounded by families from all over the world at made that truth feel so clear. People from different cultures, languages, and backgrounds, all arriving with the same instinct: to gather, to share knowledge, to build networks. The future feels less intimidating when you’re not facing it alone.

And then we came home. Back to our little pocket of community, where the early signs of spring are waking up everywhere. This week the kids discovered wild cleavers growing again, that sticky spring plant that clings to everything it touches. Soon their hands were gathering bunches of it and before long we were weaving tiny crowns. Cleavers crowns accompanied by wild spring tea. After traveling across the world and having all these big, expansive conversations about the future of humanity… we were back in the garden, sitting in the sunshine with children, weaving crowns out of wild plants. And somehow it felt like the same lesson. 

Children instinctively know what matters presence. Play.  Belonging. The garden beds are waking up too. Seeds finding their places in the soil, new plans for the season forming. Living in intentional community has a way of making those dreams tangible. Sharing tools. Sharing meals. Sharing visions for a life that feels a little more human & a little more rooted.

Travel expands the mind while Community roots the heart. And in times like these, the world seems to be reminding us how deeply we need both. To see the bigger picture. And to plant our feet somewhere real. You can spend a month traveling imagining new ways to live… And you can come home and weave crowns out of sticky weed with children on a Thursday morning. Both are sacred. Both are reminders that the future we hope for doesn’t start in institutions or global systems. It starts in small circles. In gardens. In shared meals. 

In children growing up surrounded by people who care for them. So, Spring is here now. The same season that stirs seeds beneath the soil also stirs something inside the human spirit. A beautiful invitation to grow, to gather, to build something meaningful together. Maybe that means traveling somewhere that expands your perspective. Maybe it means planting deeper roots right where you are. Maybe it means finding your people and beginning to weave the kind of community that will carry you through whatever seasons the world brings next. Because more and more it feels like this simple truth keeps revealing itself: We need each other. Now more than ever.