Who Doesn't Want To Start a Community?

It seems like everyone wants to start an intentional community these days. Some of my friends are crowdfunding land to build smart eco villages. Some others want to bring all of their internet friends together to the same neighborhood and raise kids together. There are at least a few VC-funded projects that intend to build an entire city, and even my own family might consider buying an old villa somewhere in Northern Italy if a bunch of people we know is going to settle there too.

If starting your own village, neighborhood, or a city was this easy, why haven’t more people done this in the past? The truth is they actually did, but not too many of these projects lasted for more than a few years, let alone a few generations. Throughout the 19th century there were all sorts of such experiments starting in the USA, most of them completely forgotten by now. In the 60s there was another wave of intentional communities that started with the hippie movement, but very few of them are still functioning today.

Right now I’m in Matala on the Greek island of Crete, where a bunch of hippies settled down in the 60s in hope for a simple life close to nature. Most of them slept in caves carved in stone along a dreamy beach thousands of years ago. Before the hippies arrived, Matala was a tiny fishing village, and most of the local people had never seen a tourist before. Today it’s mostly a monument to its colorful past (and a pretty impressive souvenir shop, at least in high season).

As it turns out, sleeping on cold hard stone and bathing in seawater isn’t as romantic as it sounds at first - definitely not for extended time. After a few months on the beach Joni Mitchell wrote the song Carey, in which she dreams about a clean bed and perfume¹. Some people lasted for a few more years, but eventually they all got kicked out by the combined forces of local church and militia. Now Matala is full of hippie art and souvenirs, but few people actually live here permanently.

This is my third time in Matala. I fell in love in this place at the first sight. There’s something in the air here that makes me relax instantly, and it’s even better now that the crowds of tourists are gone. Most of the shops and restaurants are closed now, but thanks to this my daughter can run freely on her own along the painted streets. The few people in town at this time of year all hang out on the beach and around the tiny town square right outside our AirBnb, full of street art and friendly neighborhood cats. I can’t help but wonder how lovely it would be for my kid to grow up in a place like this - but there are no actual children growing up here. It’s just a lot of tourist infrastructure, all run by people who actually live somewhere else.

What has to happen in an intentional community for people to still live and raise their kids there, decades later? I don’t know yet, but before starting one I’ll make sure to study the history of many, to look for patterns in how they succeeded or failed. It’s fun to live together with my friends for several years, but I’ve had enough of that in the student dormitory. At this stage of life I’m more interested in tending to timeless things.

1. https://www.messynessychic.com/2015/04/21/the-hippie-caves-of-matala-that-housed-joni-mitchell/