In Our Search for Belonging, We Are All Longing to Be…

The Oldupai Gorge in Tanzania. The cradle of humanity.
A place from which we all came, where, once upon a time, we were all one.
A place of belonging.

Belonging. This word has been showing up everywhere for me over the past week. Coming up unprompted in seemingly every conversation. Surfacing over and over again in the sea of information flowing before my eyes on a daily basis.

Belonging.

Belonging.

Belonging.

Like the universe was beating a drum.

Like the universe was chanting a mantra.

Like the universe was telling me to pay attention.

I can’t remember the circumstances when it initially surfaced in my consciousness last week but I do remember thinking at the time that the word “belonging” contains the words “be” and “longing”. Thinking that inherent in the notion of belonging was a deep longing. A longing to be.

A longing to be seen.

A longing to be met.

A longing to be celebrated — to matter.

A longing to belong.

Then, out of the blue, my dear friend, Winona Lewis, sent me a beautiful poem she’d written about, you guessed it, belonging. A poem entitled “All of Me” in which she gave voice to her heart’s desire — her lifelong, as yet unrequited, quest for belonging.

A poem which ended with the powerful question: “Can we come up against each other and really be seen, be different, be deeply loved.”

A poem that inspired a juicy conversation last Friday in which we explored what it means to belong, to be loved for all of who we are.

Belonging came up again in an exploration of core needs with my coach on Monday morning. Later that day, a dear friend brought it up during a walk on Doran Beach, sharing that she was wrestling with her own search for belonging, trying to understand what it means for her. And just yesterday in a conversation with another dear friend I hadn’t spoken to in ages, there it was again, belonging. Completely unprompted.

And these are just the instances I can remember.

Belonging. I’m soaking in it! And it seems it’s this week’s special in the menu of our collective consciousness.

In his book, The Wild Edge of Sorrow, Francis Weller talks about how humans used to be born into belonging, and from that safe, connected, and supported collective state we got to discover who we are as individuals.

Today we’re born into a fractured, socially fragmented, hyper-competitive world — one in which, from our first breath, we begin a lifelong struggle for belonging — feeling like we have to prove ourselves worthy of belonging where before worthiness and belonging were our birthright.

I’ve never felt like I belonged — to anyone or anything. I never felt like all of me belonged in any one group. It wasn’t for lack of trying. In my 20s and 30s, I joined numerous groups seeking a sense of belonging — churches, a sorority, a weekend ultimate-frisbee league, numerous visionary startups, a diverse collection of friendship groups. The list goes on. Parts of me fit and were welcome but all of me, not so much.

Something was always missing, and I left wanting. Left feeling like I belonged everywhere and nowhere.

Then, at some point along my journey, I stopped trying to fit into other social groups and decided to become a destination, bringing the belonging to me. I fed people, organized gatherings, threw epic parties, hosted arts happenings and fundraisers, and brought together diverse collections of people.

Suddenly I had lots and lots of company and a rich web of social connections. An epicenter of belonging.

And yet that epicenter I occupied felt hollow. I was deeply loved and celebrated but I wasn’t happy. Something was missing. The sense of deep belonging I sought still elusive.

Looking back on it, it makes sense that my search for belonging left me feeling unrequited. I was searching outside myself for belonging without first searching inside myself for an understanding of the who that was trying to belong.

My mother’s sudden suicide and my conscious uncoupling from wasband #1 triggered a complete life reboot and twelve-year-and-counting journey of self-discovery. I said goodbye to my life in San Francisco and moved up to West Sonoma Country to live amongst the redwoods.

To reflect and begin a curious journey of self-exploration.

To better understand who I was and what was missing.

To better understand myself so that I might have an easier time recognizing and connecting with my kin.

I discovered that what was missing was an authentic sense of self and the courage to be truly vulnerable — two precursors to the belonging I sought. I’ve started to be clearer about who I am and what truly matters to me.

I had to become curious about, deeply explore, and love all of me before I could extend the same curiosity and love to all beings.

Along the way, as I’ve deepened my self-awareness, I’ve become more able to recognize kindred spirits and build meaningful, authentic relationships. Like a spider weaving her web, each connection requires a courageous leap into the unknown — taking the risk of contagious vulnerability for the possibility of an authentic connection with another being.

Over time, my courageous leaping had woven an ever-growing web of heart connections. One that supports and sustains and welcomes all of me. All that I am, all that I’ve been, and all that I will be. And reciprocally, welcomes all of those I’m connected to.

Beyond those I’m blessed to know and love in my chosen family, I’ve found a larger sense of belonging. Belonging in a global community — the universal web of connection that is our shared humanity. One where I do my best to contribute my unique gifts to the benefit of the greatest number.

I come with curiosity and humility, and with an open mind and heart. As an agent of transformation and catalyst for human potential. As the mother of contagious vulnerability. On a journey of curious exploration without end.

I feel loved, seen, and deeply connected —a belonging that welcomes and celebrates all of me, not just parts.

I find myself resonating deeply with what Talmud scholar, Hillel the Elder wrote: “If I am not for myself, who will be for me? If I am only for myself, what am I? And if not now, when?” A belonging to me inextricably linked to a belonging to we.

I have found belonging to me. I have found belonging to we. And yet I am still longing. Longing for all beings to find this sense of belonging.

A belonging that celebrates their unique gifts, bears witness to their joys and struggles, and supports the realization of their dreams.

A belonging that should be the birthright of all beings, not the privilege of a select few.

Today seems like a fitting day to speak to belonging. Because on this day, we honored a great man.

On this day, we celebrated Representative John Robert Lewis, his legacy in the civil rights movement, and his tireless, lifelong service to equality and to our country. We eulogized a great man who lived, led, fought, and served with a powerful combination of humility, humanity, and perseverance.

At its core, John Lewis’ cause was about belonging.

About expanding our hearts and our humanity and the rights and privileges of our society to encompass all beings. So that all beings are included — fully, equally, and equitably — in a universal web of belonging.

A web of belonging that the Reverend Dr. King called the Beloved Community, one in which we all fight tirelessly and passionately for what’s right for all beings. One in which all beings have a right not just to survive but to thrive.

May John Lewis’ legacy inspire all of us to continue the fight to realize Dr. King’s vision of Beloved Community in our lifetime so that belonging becomes a universal right, not a privilege.

If you’d like help on your journey to find belonging—to connect with and give voice to your inner longings—book a curious conversation to see what the Vulnerability Doula can do for you.