Unity in Community

A morning walk turns into a deep talk on building communities; why they thrive on systems, rituals, and heart, not just numbers or fleeting passion.

This morning started with one of those walks that make me grateful we live where we do. At 8 a.m., my husband and I wandered down through the botanical garden tunnel and, fifteen minutes later, found ourselves at the nearest mall. He headed into a hybrid meeting with his team scattered between Indonesia and Singapore. I had my own appointment: a catch-up with my friend, Aulia Qisthi.

Funny thing is, Aulia started out as one of my Instagram followers. She slid into my life years ago with kindness, the sort of kindness that doesn’t feel performative but steady, like a friend who notices when you’re quiet. When I was in the hospital, she kept checking in, asking if I needed anything, if I wanted something to eat. Last week she messaged again: “Can we meet up? I want to celebrate your health, your recovery.” How could I say no?

If you peek at her world, she’s the founder of @powermom.id, a community she started to uplift mothers. But before she was building that, she was simply showing up for me in small ways. I still remember the first time she introduced herself: in the toilet at an event, of all places, she looked at me and said, “I follow you.” Not exactly the glamorous origin story, but memorable. She also once gifted me a powerful powerbank I still carry around to this day, proof that practical gifts win over flowers every time.

Long before today’s catch-up, Aulia had already shown her interest in what I do. She even signed up when I was about to run an MBTI training for couples with KataOma, right before the pandemic hit and forced us to cancel everything. So naturally, I told her (now that she has her own community), why not make one herself? She could invite me and my husband as trainers, find a sponsor, and sell tickets so the event wouldn’t just break even but actually make a profit. A win-win situation, right?

Over coffee, our conversation turned toward her community and beyond. She wanted to talk about growth, about where powermom.id could go next. And somehow, I found myself revisiting my own journey. I’ve built communities before: Blogbugs in 2002 (offline bloggers, back when people thought blog is some kind of food, lol), Startuplokal in 2010 (offline meetups for startup founders before “startup” became a buzzword). I was even hired as community manager tied to brands, like Fimela back in 2011. What I’ve learned? Organic communities (those that form around shared needs and passions) are so much easier to grow and sustain than brand-led ones.

I told her, approaching brands directly is like fishing with a single rod: you might get a catch, but it’s slow and uncertain. Approaching agencies or event organizers, on the other hand, is like casting a wide net. More efficient, less exhausting. I watched her noted the tips as if I’d just handed over a trade secret, though honestly, this is just experience carved out of trial, error, and maybe a few headaches.

But here’s the rub: communities are beautiful, yes, but they are also fragile. The hardest question is not how to start but how to keep going. How do you make sure the flame doesn’t die when the founder gets tired or life takes a sharp turn? From both my successes and failures, here’s what I’ve learned about keeping communities alive:

1. Build systems, not just stories. 
   A community that relies solely on one person’s passion won’t last. Create roles, delegate tasks, and let others shine. The community should outgrow you. If everything depends on one person’s energy, burnout is inevitable. Think of it as building a house where everyone has a key.

2. Create rituals, not just events.
   Events are great, but rituals are what bind people. Maybe it’s a weekly check-in, a shared hashtag, or a monthly meetup. Rituals are the heartbeat that says, “We’re still here.” Just like relationships thrive on small, repeated actions, so do communities. 

3. Build for value, not vanity.
   Numbers look sexy (10k followers, 1M reach) but value is quieter. Did someone feel less alone today because of your community? Did two members collaborate on something meaningful? (Like some startups are build after the founders met at Startuplokal meetups). That’s success too.

4. Monetize with integrity.
   Money doesn’t have to be dirty. In fact, it’s what allows sustainability. Sell tickets, offer memberships, find sponsors. People are surprisingly willing to pay for something that genuinely gives them value. Free is nice, but consistent is better. 

5. Stay adaptable.
   Communities evolve. Blogbugs thrived in an era when blogging was fresh; when blogging declined, so did the community. That’s natural. The trick is knowing when to pivot, when to reframe the conversation, when to let go.

Leading a community is like tending a garden. You can’t force flowers to bloom overnight, but with care, patience, and the right environment, growth is inevitable. You’ll face weeds, dry seasons, and sometimes pests that test your patience. But there’s joy in the tending itself, in seeing connections form and lives transform.

I’ve also been reflecting on why I care so deeply about communities. Maybe it’s because they allow me to merge meaning with connection, depth with shared laughter. For people like me who crave both solitude and intimacy, communities provide a unique balance: we get to nurture others while also being nurtured in return. As Parker Palmer wrote in A Hidden Wholeness, “Community is the least escapable reality of our lives.” We can run from many things, but we cannot outrun our need for each other.

So maybe the bigger invitation here is this: treat your community less like a project, and more like a garden. You can’t just plant seeds and walk away. You water, you prune, you let the seasons teach you patience.

As I sat with Aulia, sipping my latte, I realized how much I enjoy these conversations. Not just because I get to share what I’ve learned, but because they remind me of my own need to belong, to contribute, to leave a trail of connections, not just accomplishments.

Cheers,

Nuniek Tirta Sari