A Week of Living in a Sustainable Community
by Niánn Emerson Chase

I, along with Gabriel of Urantia, founded the intentional community called Global Community Communications Alliance ("the community"), located in Sedona, Arizona and now also in Tumacacori, Arizona. For about nineteen years we have strived and struggled—in union with a dedicated group presently numbering more than 100 people from diverse national, cultural, and spiritual backgrounds—to create and maintain a culture more sustainable than the one that dominates Western civilization and increasingly the rest of the world. For us, simply stated, sustainability encompasses values, decisions, and actions that have a proper regard for all living things and their place within the divine pattern of the First Source and Center, the Universal Father, God.
Communities magazine states: "An ‘intentional community’ is a group of people who have chosen to live or work together in pursuit of a common ideal or vision. Most, though not all, share land or housing.” They "come in all shapes and sizes, and display amazing diversity in their common values, which may be social, economic, spiritual, political, and/or ecological. Some are rural; some urban. Some live all in a single residence; some in separate households. Some raise children; some don’t. Some are secular, some are spiritually based, and others are both.” Like the other intentional communities featured in the magazine, the one I live in holds "a common commitment to living cooperatively, to solving problems nonviolently, and to sharing their experiences with others.”
Following are random events from a typical summertime week in my own life in Global Community Communications Alliance.
At 5:30 one morning... I observed four mule deer—two bucks with broad racks and two does—munching the leaves off of a willow tree in the backyard where I live. They had graced my presence a couple of evenings before. Both times, at dawn and dusk, my quiet time of observation and the deer’s gentle grazing was shattered by the loud engine of a small pickup that sped down the lane of the neighboring property. My disappointment and frustration were acute as they bounded off, too soon for me, but I did enjoy having a brief morning visit with the human intruder who is my neighbor (not affiliated with "the community"). He too experienced disappointment that he had missed the deer, for he also appreciates the beauty of our natural habitat and the wildlife that shares our environment. In our occasional over-the-fence visits, we share tidbits of information one of us has learned about habitats, ours here in the Sedona area or some other place on the planet. I can’t help but think what an interesting paradox we humans are; we love wildness, and yet we disrupt it with our noisy machines.
Another early morning..., as I sat under an ash tree enjoying the quiet and peace of my regular time of solitude for reflection, prayer, and meditation, I welcomed the interruption of the cry of a black hawk as he swooped down into the meadow for his daily morning hunt. I did not welcome the sudden noise of the barking dogs who belong to some other human neighbors, but I have gotten used to them and know that they won’t intrude any further than their barks. I think the hawk knows that too, for he stayed. Actually, I like those dogs; they’re very friendly and lovable, as are their human masters (who are not members of "the community"). I can’t help but think of Barbara Kingsolver’s essay "Setting Free the Crabs" where she gives some examples of the devastating impact domesticated animals have had on ecosystems. 1
One day... I had to ask a friend’s forgiveness, for I had been too defensive with her when she tried to share a concern with me. The next day I had to say I was sorry to another person for being insensitive of her need for some quiet time; I had barged into her room, wanting to share my excitement over something I had read about radiant floor heating complemented by solar energy that we might be able to incorporate into some of our building projects. That same day another friend apologized to me for his display of impatience and disrespect during last week’s discussion we had where we strongly disagreed with each other over our interpretation of Jesus’ command to "do unto others as you would have them do to you."
Five afternoons, around five o’clock,... I swam laps for exercise and for a change in pace from working in my home office, either in Oak Creek at Avalon Gardens or in a pool at one of the other community houses. Each time, I shared the creek or pool with others—a couple of times with my three teen-age children, another time with a seventy-year old woman, once with a new mother and her baby, and once with a group of six who all live together in one of the community homes. I never know who I’m going to see, but it is always a pleasure to interact with fellow community members who I may not have seen for a few days.
One morning... I took an out-of-town friend to Avalon Gardens where she met several community members who were harvesting organically grown fruits and vegetables. We spent some time relaxing on the deck overlooking the creek, basking in the cooling breeze under the cottonwood trees, listening to the comforting farm sounds of peacock calls, bleating goats, clucking hens, and crowing roosters. Since I had not seen her for several years, we spent time "catching up" before she shared with me some of her struggles in composing and maintaining a life that sustained her not only physically but also emotionally, intellectually, and spiritually. After a two-hour conversation, we shared lunch with several of those at the garden, feasting upon the benefits of the gardeners’ hard work. In the afternoon my friend experienced soothing rest under the hands of one of the massage therapists in the community. She told me afterwards that she had not felt so relaxed and nurtured since she was a child, for her lifestyle was too fast-paced to take time for long, meaningful talks with friends or for quiet, peaceful time. Her time of "rest" was in front of the television that brought her distraction from her personal troubles and her frustrations at work.
Two evenings... I had an hour-long dinner at homes other than the one I live in. We sat around the table together, eating from the garden’s cornucopia of gifts, laughing at the humorous "human" things that come up in our daily comings and goings and shaking our heads in frustration and sadness over the stupidity and cruelty of what we observe in our discussions of current world issues.
One evening..., on our way to a class where we study the philosophy and theology presented in The URANTIA Book, all four of us riding in a small compact, four-cylinder car saw a beautiful bobcat cross the road and meander on down the hillside. I shared with them my earlier observation from my home office window of a coyote family—father, mother, and baby—romping in the nearby field. We had a brief discussion about how we human beings encroach upon the habitats of much wildlife as cities and towns continue to spread into the deserts, plateaus, and forests of this country.
In another class... where Continuing Fifth Epochal Revelation in The Cosmic Family volumes is studied, I felt deeply moved by what several people shared of their own inner conflicts and processes as they struggled to become better human beings. In another group on another evening I experienced spiritual elation as I united with about twenty-five others in a prayer for peace for all peoples on this planet and for inner stamina to continue being peaceful and compassionate beings ourselves.
One mid-morning..., while picking blackberries in the backyard, I thought of the migrant workers who spend their entire working careers bending over, squatting, reaching, and in all kinds of weather. I wondered about the quality of life for most of these people, whose hard, back-breaking work graces the produce departments of grocery stores all over this country. Later on, while making blackberry cobbler with those very same berries, I thanked God for the gift of healing foods.
While cleaning up the kitchen one evening... with one of my daughters, I listened to the joyful-sounding, can’t-help-but-dance-to Zulu music of the South African band Ladysmith Black Mambazo, a group of activists for world peace and sustainability for all of the planet’s human habitants. I thought of other musicians from all over the world who sing out for environmental responsibility, reconciliation amid diversity, fair distribution of the world’s resources, and justice for all of God’s ascending sons and daughters of this earth.
One afternoon... I attended the rehearsal for our intentional community school’s upcoming presentation at the "Annual Celebration of Education.” This year, besides creating displays of their academic projects and providing food that they would prepare for the one-hundred community members and projected fifty guests from the Sedona and Verde Valley areas, the children planned to perform on stage through song, dance, and poetry. As I watched the children—from toddlers to teens—sing, play musical instruments, dance, and recite their poetry, I felt a kind of parental pride for the children’s many accomplishments. I considered them all my children, regardless of the fact that only three were my biological offspring. I recognized in each one of them a sense of confidence and self-respect that is a result of living daily in a supportive, loving, joyful environment. It does indeed "take a whole village to raise a child."
As I reflect back on my week’s activities and interactions..., I realize that sustainable living is artful living on all levels of reality—the material, the mindal, and the spiritual—that continues to unfold through the choices we make in how we live and in how we relate to all around us. I offer a quote from the Fifth Epochal Revelation: "All truth—material, philosophic, or spiritual—is both beautiful and good. All real beauty—material art or spiritual symmetry—is both true and good. All genuine goodness—whether personal morality, social equity, or divine ministry—is equally true and beautiful. Health, sanity, and happiness are integrations of truth, beauty, and goodness as they are blended in human experience. Such levels of efficient living come about through the unification of energy systems, idea systems, and spirit systems." (The URANTIA Book, p. 43:04)
Presently, Global Community Communications Alliance is in the process of leaving Sedona and transplanting our community to southern Arizona, to the towns of Tumacácori and nearby Tubac. There we are creating a cosmic EcoVillage, fueled by decentralized, alternative energies where all living things within and around our planetary sacred home thrive. We have 165-acre property where we are developing Avalon Organic Gardens & EcoVillage.
Our community is relocating to the much smaller and more rural Santa Cruz County in southern Arizona because we feel it is time to move forward into a place where we can become deeply involved in the restoration of one another’s souls, with our neighbors and with our environment. Tumacácori and Tubac, Arizona seem to be places where our evolving community and its alternative culture will thrive.
1The essay, "Setting Free the Crabs" can be found in Small Wonder by Barbara Kingsolver. Small Wonder is a collection of her essays written and collected as a result of the incidents of September 11, 2001.
Published in Communities Magazine Summer 2008
This article was previously published in Communities Magazine

I, along with Gabriel of Urantia, founded the intentional community called Global Community Communications Alliance ("the community"), located in Sedona, Arizona and now also in Tumacacori, Arizona. For about nineteen years we have strived and struggled—in union with a dedicated group presently numbering more than 100 people from diverse national, cultural, and spiritual backgrounds—to create and maintain a culture more sustainable than the one that dominates Western civilization and increasingly the rest of the world. For us, simply stated, sustainability encompasses values, decisions, and actions that have a proper regard for all living things and their place within the divine pattern of the First Source and Center, the Universal Father, God.
Communities magazine states: "An ‘intentional community’ is a group of people who have chosen to live or work together in pursuit of a common ideal or vision. Most, though not all, share land or housing.” They "come in all shapes and sizes, and display amazing diversity in their common values, which may be social, economic, spiritual, political, and/or ecological. Some are rural; some urban. Some live all in a single residence; some in separate households. Some raise children; some don’t. Some are secular, some are spiritually based, and others are both.” Like the other intentional communities featured in the magazine, the one I live in holds "a common commitment to living cooperatively, to solving problems nonviolently, and to sharing their experiences with others.”
Following are random events from a typical summertime week in my own life in Global Community Communications Alliance.
At 5:30 one morning... I observed four mule deer—two bucks with broad racks and two does—munching the leaves off of a willow tree in the backyard where I live. They had graced my presence a couple of evenings before. Both times, at dawn and dusk, my quiet time of observation and the deer’s gentle grazing was shattered by the loud engine of a small pickup that sped down the lane of the neighboring property. My disappointment and frustration were acute as they bounded off, too soon for me, but I did enjoy having a brief morning visit with the human intruder who is my neighbor (not affiliated with "the community"). He too experienced disappointment that he had missed the deer, for he also appreciates the beauty of our natural habitat and the wildlife that shares our environment. In our occasional over-the-fence visits, we share tidbits of information one of us has learned about habitats, ours here in the Sedona area or some other place on the planet. I can’t help but think what an interesting paradox we humans are; we love wildness, and yet we disrupt it with our noisy machines.
Another early morning..., as I sat under an ash tree enjoying the quiet and peace of my regular time of solitude for reflection, prayer, and meditation, I welcomed the interruption of the cry of a black hawk as he swooped down into the meadow for his daily morning hunt. I did not welcome the sudden noise of the barking dogs who belong to some other human neighbors, but I have gotten used to them and know that they won’t intrude any further than their barks. I think the hawk knows that too, for he stayed. Actually, I like those dogs; they’re very friendly and lovable, as are their human masters (who are not members of "the community"). I can’t help but think of Barbara Kingsolver’s essay "Setting Free the Crabs" where she gives some examples of the devastating impact domesticated animals have had on ecosystems. 1
One day... I had to ask a friend’s forgiveness, for I had been too defensive with her when she tried to share a concern with me. The next day I had to say I was sorry to another person for being insensitive of her need for some quiet time; I had barged into her room, wanting to share my excitement over something I had read about radiant floor heating complemented by solar energy that we might be able to incorporate into some of our building projects. That same day another friend apologized to me for his display of impatience and disrespect during last week’s discussion we had where we strongly disagreed with each other over our interpretation of Jesus’ command to "do unto others as you would have them do to you."
Five afternoons, around five o’clock,... I swam laps for exercise and for a change in pace from working in my home office, either in Oak Creek at Avalon Gardens or in a pool at one of the other community houses. Each time, I shared the creek or pool with others—a couple of times with my three teen-age children, another time with a seventy-year old woman, once with a new mother and her baby, and once with a group of six who all live together in one of the community homes. I never know who I’m going to see, but it is always a pleasure to interact with fellow community members who I may not have seen for a few days.
One morning... I took an out-of-town friend to Avalon Gardens where she met several community members who were harvesting organically grown fruits and vegetables. We spent some time relaxing on the deck overlooking the creek, basking in the cooling breeze under the cottonwood trees, listening to the comforting farm sounds of peacock calls, bleating goats, clucking hens, and crowing roosters. Since I had not seen her for several years, we spent time "catching up" before she shared with me some of her struggles in composing and maintaining a life that sustained her not only physically but also emotionally, intellectually, and spiritually. After a two-hour conversation, we shared lunch with several of those at the garden, feasting upon the benefits of the gardeners’ hard work. In the afternoon my friend experienced soothing rest under the hands of one of the massage therapists in the community. She told me afterwards that she had not felt so relaxed and nurtured since she was a child, for her lifestyle was too fast-paced to take time for long, meaningful talks with friends or for quiet, peaceful time. Her time of "rest" was in front of the television that brought her distraction from her personal troubles and her frustrations at work.
Two evenings... I had an hour-long dinner at homes other than the one I live in. We sat around the table together, eating from the garden’s cornucopia of gifts, laughing at the humorous "human" things that come up in our daily comings and goings and shaking our heads in frustration and sadness over the stupidity and cruelty of what we observe in our discussions of current world issues.
One evening..., on our way to a class where we study the philosophy and theology presented in The URANTIA Book, all four of us riding in a small compact, four-cylinder car saw a beautiful bobcat cross the road and meander on down the hillside. I shared with them my earlier observation from my home office window of a coyote family—father, mother, and baby—romping in the nearby field. We had a brief discussion about how we human beings encroach upon the habitats of much wildlife as cities and towns continue to spread into the deserts, plateaus, and forests of this country.
In another class... where Continuing Fifth Epochal Revelation in The Cosmic Family volumes is studied, I felt deeply moved by what several people shared of their own inner conflicts and processes as they struggled to become better human beings. In another group on another evening I experienced spiritual elation as I united with about twenty-five others in a prayer for peace for all peoples on this planet and for inner stamina to continue being peaceful and compassionate beings ourselves.
One mid-morning..., while picking blackberries in the backyard, I thought of the migrant workers who spend their entire working careers bending over, squatting, reaching, and in all kinds of weather. I wondered about the quality of life for most of these people, whose hard, back-breaking work graces the produce departments of grocery stores all over this country. Later on, while making blackberry cobbler with those very same berries, I thanked God for the gift of healing foods.
While cleaning up the kitchen one evening... with one of my daughters, I listened to the joyful-sounding, can’t-help-but-dance-to Zulu music of the South African band Ladysmith Black Mambazo, a group of activists for world peace and sustainability for all of the planet’s human habitants. I thought of other musicians from all over the world who sing out for environmental responsibility, reconciliation amid diversity, fair distribution of the world’s resources, and justice for all of God’s ascending sons and daughters of this earth.
One afternoon... I attended the rehearsal for our intentional community school’s upcoming presentation at the "Annual Celebration of Education.” This year, besides creating displays of their academic projects and providing food that they would prepare for the one-hundred community members and projected fifty guests from the Sedona and Verde Valley areas, the children planned to perform on stage through song, dance, and poetry. As I watched the children—from toddlers to teens—sing, play musical instruments, dance, and recite their poetry, I felt a kind of parental pride for the children’s many accomplishments. I considered them all my children, regardless of the fact that only three were my biological offspring. I recognized in each one of them a sense of confidence and self-respect that is a result of living daily in a supportive, loving, joyful environment. It does indeed "take a whole village to raise a child."
As I reflect back on my week’s activities and interactions..., I realize that sustainable living is artful living on all levels of reality—the material, the mindal, and the spiritual—that continues to unfold through the choices we make in how we live and in how we relate to all around us. I offer a quote from the Fifth Epochal Revelation: "All truth—material, philosophic, or spiritual—is both beautiful and good. All real beauty—material art or spiritual symmetry—is both true and good. All genuine goodness—whether personal morality, social equity, or divine ministry—is equally true and beautiful. Health, sanity, and happiness are integrations of truth, beauty, and goodness as they are blended in human experience. Such levels of efficient living come about through the unification of energy systems, idea systems, and spirit systems." (The URANTIA Book, p. 43:04)
Presently, Global Community Communications Alliance is in the process of leaving Sedona and transplanting our community to southern Arizona, to the towns of Tumacácori and nearby Tubac. There we are creating a cosmic EcoVillage, fueled by decentralized, alternative energies where all living things within and around our planetary sacred home thrive. We have 165-acre property where we are developing Avalon Organic Gardens & EcoVillage.
Our community is relocating to the much smaller and more rural Santa Cruz County in southern Arizona because we feel it is time to move forward into a place where we can become deeply involved in the restoration of one another’s souls, with our neighbors and with our environment. Tumacácori and Tubac, Arizona seem to be places where our evolving community and its alternative culture will thrive.
1The essay, "Setting Free the Crabs" can be found in Small Wonder by Barbara Kingsolver. Small Wonder is a collection of her essays written and collected as a result of the incidents of September 11, 2001.
Published in Communities Magazine Summer 2008
This article was previously published in Communities Magazine