A few months ago, I set out to see if I could find a community online using the new meeting technology of Zoom, which exploded during the pandemic.

The experiment ran for a few weeks, and then I stopped seeking members, as it was clear I had almost instantly found the group I dreamed of seeing. Or, put more honestly, who found me?

In part, this experiment was launched in response to the growing hostility and anger that has infected so much of social media, the Internet, and the country at large.

I was weary of hostility and hate. I work and live alone on a farm in upstate New York. I don’t have a lot of friends, and I have always found it difficult to find male friends.

I’m working on that and have connected with one or two men who are at ease with me and who I like and respect. I’m hopeful.

But the Zoom group has turned out to be pure gold for me and Maria, who has also fallen in love with these people. Mostly, we host the Zoom together, but it is only marginally about us.

We meet Wednesday morning, male and female.

I give Zinnia one of her big bones, and she crunches throughout the hour. Maria comes in when she can and sits alongside me.

The Zoom meetings meet as much to her as they do to me.

I have a cup of tea, and it feels like I’m sitting in a living room with old friends. This is becoming the truth.

Everybody tells us about their lives and work and hopes and troubles. It is the perfect group, and I wouldn’t change the person in it.

We click. We are not all alike, but we treat each other with love and respect.

There are honesty, warmth, joy, and sweet stories of life. There is much laughing and sharing of good books, movies, and even Netflix shows.

When one of the Zoomers told us of the grave illness of a beloved relative, another member of the group, a pastor, offered to pray for her.

That was a beautiful moment in the history of this young group.

I often share my failures and successes in my work, my frustration, and my hopes. I’ve never had a lot of people to talk to so openly in my life. I treasure it.

I always leave the group smiling and feeling warm and connected to a good part of the world.

Our conversations are personal and private. I don’t ever reveal names or details.

I look forward to these meetings all week. I can’t quite imagine how I found such wonderful people so quickly and easily or how easily they found me.

There are between 8 and 9 regular group members; on any given week, two or three have other appointments or obligations. There is no pressure; nobody takes attendance or expects everyone to attend every week.

I cut the group off at this size, and I wanted it to be small enough to get to know one another and feel safe. I believe that has worked well. I apologize to the many people who asked to come in.

We’re holding off on new members for now.

Yet most of us do. I wouldn’t miss it except for illness, and I have it on my weekly calendar. I am grateful to this group, more than they perhaps know.

I needed to connect with people like this, who care about each other and me and Maria. It tells me the Internet does not have to be an angry and nasty place. It can be used for good, as I hope my blog can be used for good.

It tells me that most people are good and hope to do good and understand the meaning of empathy and compassion. I am sadly alienated from my biological family; the group is filling a deeper hole in my life than they might imagine.

I see this was something I needed, and hopefully, they did also. Another gift of my blog.

Today, we wished one another a Merry Christmas, and it was so heartfelt I almost cried. We have members from Colorado, California (one lives on a houseboat), Texas, Ohio and New York.

We are not all alike and do not share the same beliefs. But we are committed to a loving and caring world. There has never been a harsh or angry world.

We talk about our weeks, triumphs, hearts, and disappointments—we teach one another about different cultures, values, politics, and lifestyles.

I don’t. It surprises people, but I can be shy, and so can she. We are always relaxed and open, and at peace with this group. It feels like family; it feels like home.

This is the best of what digital connections can offer, we’ve seen enough of the worst.

My experiment has been transformed, it is not an integral part of my life, and I hope it holds to the very end. I wish them the very happiest and most meaningful Christmas.

I love you all; a shocking thing for me to say about a group of people who live nowhere near me.