Lessons in Community

See our 2025 Community Agreement Doc: Here

Nearly 15 years of living in—and now leading—an intentional community near Asheville has taught me lessons I never imagined. Some are messy and humbling, but I believe all are worth sharing because the outcome has been transformational & beautiful. Here’s what I’ve learned from building the community dream—and living the reality.

As I reflected on these experiences speaking at gatherings and online summits last year, it became clear just how much I’ve learned—and how vital it is to have honest conversations about practicing permaculture and living in community. These are beautiful ideals, but the reality of living them is far more complex than the dream. These are subjects we need more open dialogue around.

The Reality of Community Living

Eco-village life is a dream for many, but the reality is not for the faint of heart. It demands hard work, patience and a willingness to face both your own shadows and those of others. Early rewards often come in the form of uncomfortable conversations, challenging dynamics, cleaning up messes and long meetings that test your patience and communication skills.

But there are also beautiful fruits, once the rootstock gets established: living walking distance to your closest friends, sharing family dinners, celebrating holidays together, growing abundant gardens and building resilience in uncertain times. What becomes possible together often feels impossible alone—which is why, through all of the hardship, I continue to believe that communal living is critical to our species’ evolution and survival.

The Early Days of Hawk & Hawthorne

Hawk & Hawthorne grew from a group of friends living at Herb Mountain Farm, where we worked at Buchi Kombucha. When Buchi eventually outgrew that space, a co-owner and I bought the Hawk & Ivy together eight years ago.

At first, I envisioned a roundtable of egalitarian co-ownership. But without equal investment, a shared vision, clear leadership, or governance tools, the road was rocky. While we were aware of governance tools like sociocracy, we lacked the experience and resources to implement them effectively. Everyone had different—though sometimes overlapping—visions of what our new-age Shangri-La should be. Nothing was in writing, and there was no clear organizational structure.

For years, I avoided asserting leadership out of discomfort with power dynamics. But this hesitation hurt the community. Slowly, I stepped into a leadership role. It wasn’t easy—at times, I felt like a villain in others’ narratives. I had to make tough decisions, like asking people to leave when their values clashed with the project’s needs.

I often felt personally held accountable for the broader evils of capitalism or patriarchy. I got intimately familiar with what resentment felt like. When I followed up with people about being late on rent or honoring commitments, some claimed they didn’t believe in land ownership, viewed money as evil or challenged my right to ask them for anything. Meanwhile, the bills didn’t stop, and I often had to cover the gaps. Over time, this eroded my idealism and willingness to be overly generous, which I realized was enabling community members more than empowering them.

Eventually, I accepted that I couldn’t single-handedly overhaul our economic and social systems. I made the hard decision to ask those who were consistently undermining me or fostering unrest to leave. This was one of the most challenging chapters—navigating hurt feelings, accusations of betrayal and deeply unpleasant vibes. For months, I lived with people who actively resented me. I avoided shared spaces and lit protection candles in my home.

In hindsight, I’m so relieved we didn’t start out with co-ownership and that I’m not permanently tied to everyone from the original group. Some of us had very different value sets and irreconcilable philosophies that would’ve prevented the project from thriving. This doesn’t mean anyone’s ideals or values were wrong—just that they didn’t all align.

Those who remained were supportive and eager to experience a more cohesive community as I embraced what my teacher Stephen Brooks light-heartedly referred to as a “benevolent dictatorship.” Since then, the community’s vibes have streamlined & improved dramatically.

We now have a baseline of agreement around how the community is structured and what we stand for. Everyone has a voice, and I greatly value their input—whether it’s about welcoming new members, deciding what shows to produce, or planning the garden. And as the owner, there are also things I’m open to input on but don’t need consensus for, like project investments, insurance policies or administrative decisions.

Through those struggles, I’ve learned that leadership in community is about balance: valuing everyone’s voice while being clear about boundaries and decisions that don’t require consensus.

Lessons in Leadership

These years have taught me some key truths about what it takes to thrive in community:

- A Shared Vision: Alignment is impossible without it.

- A Commerce Engine: Community thrives when there’s a way to generate abundance together.

- Clarity on Leadership: Equal investment and shared responsibility create buy-in.

- Patience & Accountability: Growth requires navigating both personal and collective shadows.

- Good Faith Communication: Productively reflecting shortcomings with compassion, not gossip.

- Commitment to the Mundane: The sacred is supported by daily tasks like cleaning shared spaces and honoring commitments.

Mistakes We Made

- Not defining a leadership structure early on.

- Delaying a shared vision and written agreements.

- Neglecting governance tools like meetings and check-ins at the start.

These challenges taught us invaluable lessons. Over time, we’ve built greater cohesion, transparency and alignment.

Closing Reflections

Community living is messy, humbling, and hard work—but it’s also deeply rewarding. As we move forward in 2025, I’m grateful for the lessons learned and excited for what’s to come.

For anyone interested, I'll link our community agreements and common practices in the comments below. This is a living document which evolves every year. It took many years of trial and error to come to this level of clarity.

I’d say it’s about 85% accurate and 15% aspirational. While we don’t always live up to every part of it, we’ve agreed this is how we want to live and that we can hold each other accountable when we fall short.

If you’d like to explore more about community or permaculture—or know of podcasts, summits or stages where these lessons might resonate—please let me know! I’d love to continue sharing what I've learned, and am continuing to learn, on this important topic .

Drop your thoughts or questions in the comments.

See the full post by our founder Michael on Facebook here:

https://www.facebook.com/photo/?fbid=10115139632596773&set=a.10100129902655893