There is a popular myth about the future… that it waits somewhere on the horizon, a place we can reach if we walk fast enough, work hard enough, innovate brilliantly enough. In this myth, community is often treated as part of that horizon. Something we’ll “get to” once we’ve scaled, once the product is perfect, once the stars align. But the truth is far older and far wiser than that.

Community is not the horizon we move toward, but the soil we stand in. It is the echo of our shared past and the pulse of our present, weaving the threads from which tomorrow will be sewn.

This is not poetry for poetry’s sake, it’s the blueprint for building anything that lasts.

The Roots We Already Have

Every strong community carries the weight of generations. Whether those generations span centuries, decades, or weeks. Even a newly formed online forum benefits from the deep human instinct to gather, share, and protect one another’s stories. When we treat community as a “feature to deploy in the future,” we cut ourselves off from the roots that could be nourishing us right now.

I’ve seen startups with brilliant ideas collapse because they saw their audience as a transaction rather than a living, breathing collective of people. I’ve also seen tiny, messy online groups endure years of change because their members valued the act of showing up for each other in the present.

The Present as a Builder’s Moment

The present is where community is made visible. It’s the greetings at the start of a weekly call that eventually become friendships. It’s the vulnerability in a shared struggle that sparks trust. It’s the hundreds of small acts—answering questions, remembering names, offering resources; not because they’re calculated for marketing impact, but because they are acts of care.

When leaders understand this, they stop asking “What’s our community going to look like five years from now?” as their first question. Instead, they ask “What can we build together here, today, that will be worth carrying forward?” The answer is often much simpler than imagined but far harder to fake.

The Future is an Extension of Today’s Care

The dazzling communities of the future, the ones people cite in case studies and TED Talks, are not spontaneous arrivals. They are the natural consequence of years spent tending to people like they matter now. This is where the farmland metaphor matters. If the soil is alive and healthy, the harvest will come. If it’s ignored until we’re ready to plant, it will be too late.

For any brand, movement, or group that wants to last, this means rethinking priorities. Start with people. Start with listening. Start with connection. Your “future community” isn’t waiting out there in the distance. It’s here under your feet, asking for your attention, your authenticity, and your willingness to invest before you see a measurable return.

So look down more often. Feel where you stand. Learn the names of those already beside you. Because when tomorrow arrives, it will be woven entirely from the ties you’re making today.