What Carries Us
...when things fall apart
‘The Red Lake’ - my favourite place to float & contemplate in Denmark, WA.
Photo Credit: Annabelle Arnold
Lately, I’ve been listening for the subtle qualities that help people find their footing when things fall apart — not just in the wake of disasters, but in those everyday storms: the quiet disorientation of burnout, overwhelm, isolation. The slow ache of not knowing who or where to turn to.
What keeps us afloat in those moments?
In recent conversations through my work with Resilient Together Wanneroo, I’ve heard story after story that points to something simple and deep: we don’t always need to know what to do. We just need to feel connected. To be part of a social fabric that holds us — not perfectly, not professionally, but relationally.
I’ve been thinking of a recent visit I made to Denmark — not the country, but the coastal town in WA, where I once lived and helped weave a creative writing and storytelling community. Even now, years later, I could feel it still holding me. The community we grew through stories and shared meals and wild experiments had taken root. And though my body had moved away, some deeper thread of connection hadn’t.
Gathering to laugh and play with old friends and new - in Denmark, Western Australia.
Photo Credit: Annabelle Arnold
It reminded me: the relationships we nurture don’t always disappear. Sometimes they become the very ground we stand on, quietly offering their support when we need it most.
That’s what we mean when we talk about “relational readiness.” Not a plan, or a checklist — but a culture. A way of being together that softens the edges of hard times.
In our Vital Village Culture team meetings, we’ve begun to name some of the qualities that support this way of being:
Patience, even when clarity hasn’t come
Playfulness, especially in uncertainty
Connection, even when it’s easier to withdraw
Acceptance — not as resignation, but as a return to what’s real
These are not heroic acts. They are quiet practices. Often unnoticed. But they matter more than we think.
So I’m asking myself: what am I weaving, in my own life, that might hold someone later — including myself?
And I wonder: what are you weaving?
Or maybe, what’s already been woven, that you can lean back into now?
Sometimes, the support we need isn’t something new. It’s something old and enduring. Something still quietly holding us.
Come join the conversation
If this resonates — if you're holding questions about connection, support, and what helps us thrive in hard times — you’re warmly invited to join us for a Vital Village Voices gathering.
These are slow, spacious conversations where we share stories, explore what community care really means, and reflect on what supports us — not just in big disasters, but in the quieter storms of life.
At our last gathering, someone left with the intention to put up a sign on their front fence:
“Come talk. I’m here.”
Several left with a deeper commitment to growing a neighbourhood network where they live.
Others spoke about finding hope, remembering their gifts, and feeling a little more confident that they are not alone.
These are small things. But they ripple.
👉 Register for the next session here
And if you’re part of a community group, organisation, or neighbourhood that wants to explore how to grow a culture of care — I’d love to hear from you. We’re walking alongside local leaders and changemakers to support Vital Village culture transformations in real time. This work doesn’t belong to any one person or group — it’s something we’re co-weaving, together.
📩 You can reach me via the contact button here on Substack, or email: nicola@befriend.org.au
Let’s keep growing what holds us.