‘We moved to a commune when I was 7 months pregnant’

Mim, Sam and their daughter have no regrets about the move (Picture: Supplied)

At seven months pregnant, Mim Spencer and her husband Sam made the life-changing decision to move into a commune.

It made sense, according to the eco-loving millennials. After all, they do say it takes a village to raise a child.

‘We’d been talking for a while about whether there were more connected, healthier, affordable and greener ways to live when a place came free at a nearby community farm where some friends lived,’ Mim tells Metro.co.uk. ‘There were six of us and three of us were pregnant and we thought, why not?’

The couple rented two private rooms of their own with an ensuite bathroom, as did their friends and their partners, but all other space was completely shared.

Mim and Sam’s daughter was born first, then five months later, two more babies were born within a fortnight.

‘It was bliss,’ says Mim. ‘I never felt lonely, we were very supportive of each other. If you needed a shower, there was always someone on hand to look after the babies.’

Life on the farm was ‘bliss’ – even with three babies (Picture: Supplied)

Mim, the co-founder of REfUSE an organisation which intercepts and redistributes food that would go to landfill, was first inspired by communal living when she was a student at Durham university.

She and her friends decided to offer a spare room in their student house for people in need — homeless young people or those seeking asylum — by all committing to sleeping in bunk beds.

‘We were inspired by the idea of social justice,’ she says. ‘There were so many students living in the city but also a lot of homelessness. We wanted to do something so funding our spare room by sleeping in bunk beds seem to be a solution.’

Her shared living experiences as a student inspired Mim to further explore communities that have ‘rejected individualism and nuclear family life in order to embrace a more collective way of living’ and she travelled the country visiting various different communes, which inspired her book, Living Together: Searching for Community in a Fractured World.

‘76% of British adults feel that we’ve become more distanced from our neighbours in the last 20 years,’ she says.

‘We are less likely than our grandparents, or even our parents, to know the names of our neighbours, to enjoy multi-generational friendships or to share resources and childcare.

‘With mental health at epidemic levels, the climate crisis worsening, and society feeling increasingly divided, I wanted to write a book to explore whether there are better ways to live.’

Some of the group preparing the garden (Picture: Supplied)

Mim in her element (Picture: Supplied)

Living in close quarters can, of course, take some adjustment, but the couples at the farm agreed to a policy of ‘radical honesty’ before they moved in and ‘consciously committed’ to a set of commune rules.

‘We spent a good many months going through what life there would look like, what would our rhythms and priorities be? How would we communication and handle conflict? How would we make decisions?’ says Mim, now in her thirties.

‘We agreed a framework of weekly meetings and routines. Meditation in the mornings, for example and weekly meetings to organise the practicalities – who was working on the farm, who was looking after the poly tunnels and the chickens. We agreed on money and who paid what – we were paying the rent and bills equally between us.’

Sam works as a social entrepreneur in County Durham while the other couples all work in different professions, from university tutors to a musician and even a vicar.

‘We were keen to create a mutually supportive environment into which we would all have the kids, and also to try and live sustainably together,’ says Mim.

‘I’d always wanted to kind of live more in tune with the land and understand seasons and not be so consumerist about the way we ate, and the farm gave us this opportunity to do this.’

Living in tune with the land (Picture: Supplied)

The group would ‘sign in’ for dinner on a chalk board and take turns to cook. The board also listed allotted chores, daily to-do lists and which vegetables were ready for harvest.

‘We organised our schedules so that the work of maintaining the house and farmland was shared between us all,’ says Mim.

‘Making our decisions between six rather than two has meant more communication, weekly meetings, financial spreadsheets and WhatsApp threads but those became part of our new normal too.’

The most challenging aspect was keeping up with commitments once the babies had arrived. ‘We had to be flexible – we were all working, child-rearing and running the farm, so sometimes it felt like you wanted to skip the morning meditation session if you’d been up all night with a crying baby,’ she says.

‘We had to keep checking in with each other about what was working and what wasn’t and being honest about it.’

But being accountable to others made Mim very conscious about not ducking out on what they’d promised to do as a group.

Everyone on the commune balance shared chores with work and childcare (Picture: Ian Wylie)

‘We had made a commitment to be intentional about the way we lived. You might have a big work deadline, but we’d committed to do a Saturday morning gardening project with the local community. It meant that we kept our promises to each other and ourselves,’ she explains.

‘It felt like we were really living our values. I loved seeing the community group come every Saturday and dig up their potatoes. We’d cook them together and seeing a boy of 13 eat his first home-grown potato was very rewarding.’

After the year was up, one couple decided that they wanted to live nearer their parents and so the commune at the farm was dissolved.

‘Yes, I feel sad but we’re all still friend,’ says Mim. ‘Right from the outset, we had decided that is was only a one-year experiment.’

Mim’s fascination with communal living inspired her book (Picture: Footnote Press)

Mim and her husband do intend to live in another community and are currently exploring possibilities.

If you feel tempted to try living communally, Mim suggests visiting established communities. (Check out Beggars and Dreamers for a UK network for intentional communities).

‘Go and visit and speak to people who are already doing it, find out their experiences, stay there – lots of communties offer guests days – and work out if it’s for you,’ she says.

Then, start having conversations. ‘What would life look like together? Would it enable you to live in such a way that where life was, fullfilling and fun and connected?

‘Don’t be afraid to explore this way of living an option. The answer might be no but it’s an interesting process just exploring your options.”

Living Together: Searching for Community in a Fractured World (Footnote Press, £14.99) is out now.

Mim, Sam and their daughter have no regrets about the move (Picture: Supplied)

At seven months pregnant, Mim Spencer and her husband Sam made the life-changing decision to move into a commune.

It made sense, according to the eco-loving millennials. After all, they do say it takes a village to raise a child.

‘We’d been talking for a while about whether there were more connected, healthier, affordable and greener ways to live when a place came free at a nearby community farm where some friends lived,’ Mim tells Metro.co.uk. ‘There were six of us and three of us were pregnant and we thought, why not?’

The couple rented two private rooms of their own with an ensuite bathroom, as did their friends and their partners, but all other space was completely shared.

Mim and Sam’s daughter was born first, then five months later, two more babies were born within a fortnight.

‘It was bliss,’ says Mim. ‘I never felt lonely, we were very supportive of each other. If you needed a shower, there was always someone on hand to look after the babies.’

Life on the farm was ‘bliss’ – even with three babies (Picture: Supplied)

Mim, the co-founder of REfUSE an organisation which intercepts and redistributes food that would go to landfill, was first inspired by communal living when she was a student at Durham university.

She and her friends decided to offer a spare room in their student house for people in need — homeless young people or those seeking asylum — by all committing to sleeping in bunk beds.

‘We were inspired by the idea of social justice,’ she says. ‘There were so many students living in the city but also a lot of homelessness. We wanted to do something so funding our spare room by sleeping in bunk beds seem to be a solution.’

Her shared living experiences as a student inspired Mim to further explore communities that have ‘rejected individualism and nuclear family life in order to embrace a more collective way of living’ and she travelled the country visiting various different communes, which inspired her book, Living Together: Searching for Community in a Fractured World.

‘76% of British adults feel that we’ve become more distanced from our neighbours in the last 20 years,’ she says.

‘We are less likely than our grandparents, or even our parents, to know the names of our neighbours, to enjoy multi-generational friendships or to share resources and childcare.

‘With mental health at epidemic levels, the climate crisis worsening, and society feeling increasingly divided, I wanted to write a book to explore whether there are better ways to live.’

Some of the group preparing the garden (Picture: Supplied)

Mim in her element (Picture: Supplied)

Living in close quarters can, of course, take some adjustment, but the couples at the farm agreed to a policy of ‘radical honesty’ before they moved in and ‘consciously committed’ to a set of commune rules.

‘We spent a good many months going through what life there would look like, what would our rhythms and priorities be? How would we communication and handle conflict? How would we make decisions?’ says Mim, now in her thirties.

‘We agreed a framework of weekly meetings and routines. Meditation in the mornings, for example and weekly meetings to organise the practicalities – who was working on the farm, who was looking after the poly tunnels and the chickens. We agreed on money and who paid what – we were paying the rent and bills equally between us.’

Sam works as a social entrepreneur in County Durham while the other couples all work in different professions, from university tutors to a musician and even a vicar.

‘We were keen to create a mutually supportive environment into which we would all have the kids, and also to try and live sustainably together,’ says Mim.

‘I’d always wanted to kind of live more in tune with the land and understand seasons and not be so consumerist about the way we ate, and the farm gave us this opportunity to do this.’

Living in tune with the land (Picture: Supplied)

The group would ‘sign in’ for dinner on a chalk board and take turns to cook. The board also listed allotted chores, daily to-do lists and which vegetables were ready for harvest.

‘We organised our schedules so that the work of maintaining the house and farmland was shared between us all,’ says Mim.

‘Making our decisions between six rather than two has meant more communication, weekly meetings, financial spreadsheets and WhatsApp threads but those became part of our new normal too.’

The most challenging aspect was keeping up with commitments once the babies had arrived. ‘We had to be flexible – we were all working, child-rearing and running the farm, so sometimes it felt like you wanted to skip the morning meditation session if you’d been up all night with a crying baby,’ she says.

‘We had to keep checking in with each other about what was working and what wasn’t and being honest about it.’

But being accountable to others made Mim very conscious about not ducking out on what they’d promised to do as a group.

Everyone on the commune balance shared chores with work and childcare (Picture: Ian Wylie)

‘We had made a commitment to be intentional about the way we lived. You might have a big work deadline, but we’d committed to do a Saturday morning gardening project with the local community. It meant that we kept our promises to each other and ourselves,’ she explains.

‘It felt like we were really living our values. I loved seeing the community group come every Saturday and dig up their potatoes. We’d cook them together and seeing a boy of 13 eat his first home-grown potato was very rewarding.’

After the year was up, one couple decided that they wanted to live nearer their parents and so the commune at the farm was dissolved.

‘Yes, I feel sad but we’re all still friend,’ says Mim. ‘Right from the outset, we had decided that is was only a one-year experiment.’

Mim’s fascination with communal living inspired her book (Picture: Footnote Press)

Mim and her husband do intend to live in another community and are currently exploring possibilities.

If you feel tempted to try living communally, Mim suggests visiting established communities. (Check out Beggars and Dreamers for a UK network for intentional communities).

‘Go and visit and speak to people who are already doing it, find out their experiences, stay there – lots of communties offer guests days – and work out if it’s for you,’ she says.

Then, start having conversations. ‘What would life look like together? Would it enable you to live in such a way that where life was, fullfilling and fun and connected?

‘Don’t be afraid to explore this way of living an option. The answer might be no but it’s an interesting process just exploring your options.”

Living Together: Searching for Community in a Fractured World (Footnote Press, £14.99) is out now.