I learn best when I'm part of a community

Whenever I’m learning a challenging new skill that requires sustained practice and focus, I like to do it in the company of people who share my goals and are at a similar skill level as me.

For example:

• I’ve always wanted to write fiction, so last year I joined a writing group that focused on creative writing. This has pushed me to understand my writing process, produce more writing, and share my work with people without feeling afraid or embarrassed.
• I don’t like to exercise alone. I currently attend group yoga sessions in my neighborhood, but my notes app contains an ever-growing wishlist of physical activities that I want to do with my friends.
• I recently started an IndieWeb Club in Bangalore with a friend because I want to work on my personal website and blog more often.
• A few weeks ago I wanted to try out vibecoding using Claude, so I got on a call with a friend and we spent three hours working on a small project together (spoiler: the LLM performed poorly compared to what we could’ve done on our own).
• I don’t like to watch movies by myself, so for a few months, I hosted a regular movie night at my place. Watching movies is not exactly a challenging skill for most people, but I’ve never managed to develop the patience and focus to sit in front of my TV for ninety minutes without squirming in my seat. Having people around helped me watch some challenging films I never would’ve watched on my own.

Some (most?) people are solo learners, but I’ve come to realize I do better when I learn in collaboration with others. I love being around people, so I feel motivated to show up and do my best when I combine learning with social activity. The promise of a group hang after a difficult workout or an hour of writing gives me something to look forward to and keeps me going through rough spots.

Even if I wasn’t an extrovert, I would still want to learn and work within a community rather than by myself. For example, my writing group has been beneficial to me in ways that go beyond the camaraderie of a common struggle.

• It has been a safe space for me to try out new ideas, fail, and laugh about it.
• My co-writers have held me accountable for the pieces I’ve promised to write, which has helped me produce more writing than I could’ve done on my own.
• Just by being present and listening to people talk during a meeting, I’ve been exposed to new ideas, diverse viewpoints, and better writing processes. This has resulted in several breakthroughs that have improved my writing or helped me break out of a rut.
• I’ve often written stories or poetry as a response to somebody else in the group. I’ve found this kind of riffing off of my co-writers very generative and very fun.
• Working together with the group has deepened my relationships with people I already knew before joining, and also helped me make new friends.

I’ve only recently started putting this much much stock into the idea that I need to be part of a community to thrive. In my twenties, I wanted to do everything by myself. I had a sheltered childhood, so I spent a large chunk of my young adulthood proving to myself that I could survive in the world on my own.

Only in my early thirties did I begin to realize how much community meant to me. And now, as I approach thirty-five, I sometimes find myself wishing that I’d spent more time working in collaboration with other people through the previous decade of my life.

But maybe the only reason I’m able to rely on other people today is because I feel confident in my own ability to fend for myself? Maybe I had to learn to be myself—really, truly myself—before I was able to weave myself into the social fabric of my city?

It’s difficult to tell what kind of person I would’ve become if I’d made different choices a decade ago. All I know is that I’m glad to be where I am today: part of several communities of people who are striving towards common creative goals.