Let’s be awkward together.

Black spray paint graffiti says “Thank you for existing” on a bright blue wall.

Sometimes I think I’ve forgotten how to belong.

By “belong," I mean — to walk into a room of people and feel basically okay, without performing, or hiding, or trying to be perfect.

Somewhere in my bones I remember what that felt like. I think we all do. I don’t know about you, but for me that memory is a long way off. These days, it seems like in any social situation, there’s a little asshole with a clipboard in the back of my mind, watching everything and saying:

• Did you just cut someone off?

• That hug was awkward.

• You should say something more interesting right now.

The thing is — belonging is a human need as basic as water and safety. No one gets away without needing it. Our brains register loneliness in the same place as they register physical pain. We need each other. But to let each other in, we need to let ourselves in, which means letting our flaws and weirdnesses in as well.

Community is never perfect.

It’s not supposed to be, because we’re not supposed to be perfect. We say the wrong thing, or someone else does. We get pangs of jealousy or self-recrimination. We get awkward. That’s not community going wrong, it’s community working.

In this interview between Mia Birdsong and Prentis Hemphill, Mia tells a funny story about feeling rejected by a well-intentioned friend, and Prentis says, “You’re right — so much of how and why we avoid building community is because we have to feel those things.”

Oof. I paused the podcast there and sat in the quiet for a minute, taking it in. Community makes us feel things. Those things can be wildly inconvenient. So when we have the option to hide out on our phones and only interact with people we’re used to, it’s incredibly alluring.

But on the other side of that — I think I want to feel those things. I want to be imperfect, unpolished and invited all at once… To shut up the clipboard guy, and build my life around unscripted moments.

So, lovely one. Will you come be awkward with us?

Back in the nineteenth century, sociologist Émile Durkheim coined a beautiful term — “collective effervescence.”

Can you feel that? Those words describe the joyful energy of people gathering for a shared purpose.

That’s it for me. Let’s be collectively effervescent this fall — flaws, awkwardnesses, clipboards and all.

In it with you,