Why do I feel disconnected from my neighborhood even though I live here?

Disconnection often comes from treating a place as temporary—a address, not a home. Rabia's legacy teaches that belonging requires seeing and being seen. You can live somewhere for years and never truly inhabit it if you're always mentally leaving. Start by slowing down. Notice your street at different times. Learn three neighbors' names—not their jobs or their stories yet, just their names. Walk instead of drive when you can. Shop locally. Attend one community gathering, even if it feels awkward. These aren't transactions that buy you belonging; they're the small acts that let you actually *be* in your place. Disconnection also happens when we expect community to happen to us. Rabia understood devotion as something you offer, not something you receive first. What would it feel like to love your neighborhood before it loves you back? To care for it, protect it, notice its rhythms—not because you'll get community in return, but because it's yours to tend. The disconnection you feel might be inviting you to deeper roots. Your neighborhood doesn't need you to be perfect or to transform it. It needs you present. Start there.