Rebuilding Belonging in a Disconnected World
Recently, I joined Kiki L’Italien for a conversation on Association Chat.
She posed a question that, of course, is important for all of us in this time.
"In a world where so many of us feel disconnected despite being constantly connected on our phones and every other way you can imagine possible, what really creates the glue that brings us all together?"
Her energy reminded me why I wrote The Art of Community 1st edition years ago.
I wrote it because we've forgotten so much that is essential on how we create bonds that matter.
The Moment Everything Changed
Years ago, I sat across from Kevin Lin, who had recently started what would become the global Twitch behemoth.
At lunch, Kevin shared how he wanted to better knit together the 50 million people showing up on the platform.
He wasn't asking me to solve his problem.
He was simply talking about the challenges he faced.
In that moment, my head almost exploded with ideas I wanted to share.
When I went home to write what I thought would be a simple 10-page paper, I discovered I had much more to share and it changed the next years for me and millions of others.
I now recognized that I had spent 15 to 20 years learning how to bring people together around shared values and purpose in several time zones, in different fields, with important stakes. It was time to share.
The Radical Lesson from a Homeless Shelter
Let me take you back to where this journey really began.
Out of undergraduate school, I wanted to make a difference in the world.
The world said, "go get a job," and that didn't sound exciting.
Instead, I took time to volunteer full-time at the Catholic Worker in Santa Ana, a radical homeless shelter in Southern California.
What made us radical was that we, in the long tradition of Catholic Workers, invited people experiencing homelessness directly into our house because it was a safe place for them to stay. The reality was that the house wasn't big enough, so the yard also filled with women and children.
Reality hits hard in spaces like this. Addiction, mental health challenges, and medical situations all show up, which can be deeply disturbing.
None of us could handle these dangerous challenges alone.
That truth settled into my bones deeply: the only reason any of us could do this work (ministry) was because we were doing it together.
A Village That Knew My Name
The Peace Corps sent me to Northern Zambia during the late 20th-century AIDS epidemic.
I lived in a village of 150 families where one-third of the year was called the hunger season.
Yet if you lived in that village, you would always have neighbors who would share with you.
Nobody would let someone go desperately hungry if they had food to share.
I discovered a world completely different from California. In the village, everyone knew my name and everybody was looking out for me.
There were both shadows and light in this experience.
It showed me that people can relate to neighbors radically different than we do in American cities.
The experience was startling and, of course, transformative.
What Your Grandparents Already Knew
When I went to graduate school to study religion, philosophy, and ethics, I sat in classrooms learning about spiritual traditions.
These weren't all ancient history lessons, of course.
I was exposed to people living traditions that have successfully brought people together around shared values and purpose for over a thousand years.
I could literally stand up in that classroom, walk outside, and find people in the world continuing to gather around those same traditions.
The continuity was both inspiring and breathtaking.
Kiki understood this immediately when she read The Art of Community.
As I told her during our conversation, "When you read what I wrote, presumably everything you came across, you thought, 'Of course that's true.'"
"Of course, my grandparents and their grandparents and their grandparents have been using all these ideas, and we've just forgotten them."
The Longing That Connects Us All
Kiki asked if I get frustrated watching our increasingly divided world despite having insights that could help.
Frustration isn't the word I use.
There's a longing.
A deep longing to help people put down the distractions, these new and obviously failing notions of what people need when they come together.
We can return to what we were doing in the 1500s and 1300s and 1200s.
Not everything from those eras, obviously.
The principles that have been knitting together relationships and serving our families for millennia can be named and revisited.
The Wild Truth About Modern Connection
Kiki pointed out something profound: "It's kind of wild to think that there could be people who are connecting better through community on Twitch than through their communities in associations."
This observation speaks to a modern dilemma.
We have many different ways to get together.
We're daily connected through our phones and digital tools.
And so many of us feel more disconnected than ever before.
The platforms change.
The technology evolves.
The human need for genuine belonging remains constant.
What Really Creates the Glue
My work draws from more than 3,000 years of spiritual traditions.
Not because these traditions are perfect or without their shadows.
I do this because we know earlier generations successfully created bonds strong enough to withstand existentially threatening times.
They understand something many of us have forgotten.
They wove together by people knowing how to invite others into shared purpose.
The Art of Remembering
The Art of Community isn't about innovation.
It's mostly about remembering.
Remembering what your grandparents knew about gathering people around shared meals.
Remembering what your great-grandparents understood about looking out for neighbors.
Remembering what countless generations have known about the sacred responsibility of invitation.
When I wrote the book, I was surprised it became book-length.
I was surprised when publishers wanted to publish it.
I was surprised when it won awards and traveled around the world.
Now there's a second edition with new content.
What doesn't surprise me is how readers respond when they rediscover these ideas.
They recognize the truth immediately.
Not because I'm sharing revolutionary concepts.
Because I'm helping them remember wisdom they've always carried.
Your Invitation to Remember
Kiki's excitement about The Art of Community reflects something beautiful.
It's the joy of recognition.
The relief of remembering.
The possibility of returning to what we've always known works.
In our age of digital disconnection, our satisfying path to more connection isn't more technology.
It's not more platforms or apps or innovative networking strategies.
We will recognize that the path forward is backward.
Back to the wisdom traditions that have sustained human communities through wars, plagues, famines, and social change.
Back to the understanding that we belong to each other.
Back to the art of invitation.
What would change in your community if you stopped trying to innovate your way to connection and started remembering what your grandparents already knew?
What would shift if you began seeing yourself not as someone who needs to solve every problem but as someone who invites others into shared purpose?
The glue that brings us all together isn't new.
It's ancient.
It's waiting for us to remember.
Get free resources on building the community you long for at www.charlesvogl.com
