neighbors

When I was in college, my brother gave me advice. He said to make sure to introduce yourself to your neighbors and try to spend time with them socially because inevitably, you will need their help. It’s never a good look to ask someone for something (hot water, a car jump, etc.) before establishing a social bond first. I took this to heart. Every place I’ve lived, I’ve introduced myself to my neighbors, and some of my deepest, most fulfilling relationships are friendships I’ve established out of convenience and accessibility.

I read this essay recently, and I was particularly drawn to this passage:

And friction is not just interrupting your day or life to help out a friend, but also admitting you need the kind of help you cannot pay for or order yourself. To pierce through your veil of seamless productivity and having-it-together to say: I need something from you, can you help me?

Our closest neighbor friends are a few years older than us, with children in middle school and elementary school. We have dinner together a few times a month. They have watched Ari for us, picked up our mail, and sat on our couch while we drive our babysitter home. They bring us food — extra produce from their CSA haul, baked goods, dinner leftovers for chaotic weekends. They display artwork that Ari has given them in their house. They do things for us that I know our family would do if they were closer, but they don’t do it out of familial obligation. They do it (at least I hope) because they want to. This level of neighborly friendship is radical, I think, and I want more of it.