Sometimes what can seem to be a blessing may in fact be a curse. It was spring when I stepped into my beautiful bachelor apartment after a long winter of dealing with a painful breakup. It was spacious, beautifully designed, very affordable and in the best location I could have dreamt of, right in the heart of my darling Stockholm; I felt so lucky.
Living alone was wonderful for the first few months. Friends and dates were coming and going through my door, filling the air with deep conversations and laughter, and then leaving when I needed some “me” time. However with time my apartment became a gilded cage. Dealing with the aftermath of my break up alongside increasing stress at my work place and studies, I gradually started to make the space into my hiding spot. I would wrap myself in my cocoon with almost no one around to distract me from my thoughts. The laughter was replaced with anxiety and loneliness.
Eventually I was forced to leave and was looking for a new home. A friend directed me to a new co-living space opening in the city and for a job offer in managing the community. My application was accepted and I became the first tenant to enter the house before it was even finished. A shared house was not a new concept to me, but a shared house with 50 people?!?! That was extreme! I quickly forgot about my old golden cage and gave myself to this new adventure. Despite the difficulties in building such a community from scratch, and all the drama it created, I never felt alone or lonely. I was freed from my own ruminating mind, instead becoming tangled in the mind of the hive.
Co-living as a concept for a better world is debatable. Despite the social and urban benefits in fitting more people in less space, the objectives of entrepreneurs and developers in creating those spaces are mostly financial. However one cannot ignore the value Co-living brings to the lonely individualistic lifestyles we have adapted to in the last few decades.
Ryan was ahead of the curve when he bought the apartment across the hall in his Brooklyn apartment building. Realizing he doesn’t really know his neighbors, he wished to gain some control over the type of tenants entering his world and perhaps make few dollars as the middleman. The first attempt was so successful, that Ryan, a bold entrepreneur, decided to buy more apartments in the same manner. He proceeded target the kind of neighbors he would like to have and develop a range of services he would provide to these new tenants.
“I started the space as a nurturing environment for entrepreneurs, artists and creatives with a genuine intention to help these types of individuals. I figured that with my experience as an entrepreneur, I can coach them to reach their goals and inject extra purpose to this idea”. Thus organically emerged one of the first “co-living” spaces fueled with the spirit of the startup nation, featuring Ryan as the spider in the web.
“I became the coach of 65 people, but not just helping them with their projects, but also helping them with the house, conflicting relationships and even their kids…”
Similar to my experience, what started as a dream became Ryan’s gilded cage. Conversely instead of my experience of loneliness, Ryan was on a roller-coaster of too many relationships and was set on a course for a burnout. Despite the undeniable success of the project, Ryan realized he couldn’t juggle so many balls at once, especially when it came to his capacity for human interactions on the one hand and the administration involved on the other. Two sides of the brain can’t work in full power for too long and Ryan eventually left the home he created for himself, saying goodbye to New York City all together without looking back.
When the borders between home and work are blurred, it’s not work that becomes home, it’s home that becomes work and one has nowhere to escape from this reality. This lack of division between task management and caring relationships causes pain for many community managers in the current working environment. Without support from a functioning team they burn out quickly.
“In the American culture and also in the entrepreneurial world, people are switched on 24/7. In the house in New York I was constantly approached and my tenants had zero respect for my own needs and zero time to just be.” Ryan concludes.
The problem is that “community managers are constantly trying really hard to get people to participate in things, putting a lot of work into developing and promoting programs, and feeling like they’re constantly struggling to maintain everything together,” Tony Bacigalupo, New Work Cities
Ryan left his home, but didn’t leave his work. The experience he acquired has since been channeled towards a think-tank and a research lab focusing on the topic of co-living. Home has expanded to be everywhere now as Ryan travels between intentional communities and spiritual gatherings exposing himself to new cultures, leaders and artists from all around the world.
“I love being nomadic now cause I get to experience so much more without being attached. I see myself continuing to travel in the near future but I also want to have a base or two. A place where I can be among my peers like Boulder for example. There the pace is different, I have good friends who set healthy limits between work and pleasure. They finish work at 17:00 and spend more time outdoors or with their loved ones.”
What about the future? I asked. Do you see yourself living in a co-living space again?
“I do see myself living in a community again, but one that respects the need for privacy and space. Where people are sensitive to the individual’s needs and act more consciously”
Be careful what you wish for, I murmur to myself, knowing the fine line between privacy and loneliness, sociability and burnout. Perhaps the balance in this swinging pendulum is being a part of the collective rather than leading. Maybe communities should not be managed or directed, leaving space for every person to step up and take it’s part. After all, we’re in this together aren’t we?
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