What Gives Us A Sense of Belonging?

By Michelle

Part 1

It was sent at 08:18 one morning; I’d heard the ping and quietly pulled down the notifications screen on my mobile. This Social Sunday, the topic will be ‘belonging’.

Open Sanctuary invites members to attend an online gathering every first and third Sunday of the month. This isn’t Sunday Worship; it is an opportunity to have a conversation with others, some of whom attend morning meditation, and others who are community ministers and whose schedule might not allow for that.

Belonging is such a loaded word, and it could mean something different for each person who reflects on it. We hear it used in expressions: a sense of belonging, they belong to x party, the car belongs to me, she sold all her belongings. When I first reflected, the overwhelming idea I had was of a feeling of ownership.

But I’m not comfortable with this energy. My cat does not belong to me, I do not own her, though we belong to each other. The furniture in my home is currently in my possession, but previously another person had them in their home. Perhaps I am just their caretaker? The food I buy is owned by me yet is also consumed and quickly doesn’t belong to me anymore.

As I mulled this word over, I wondered what did the sender of the message mean? Were they implying one of these meanings over another? Were they inviting me to have this internal dialogue? The more I dwelt on the meaning of belonging, and of being part of Open Sanctuary, the more I settled on the idea that they must be using this in a specific context, of a sense of belonging to something greater than myself.

In that way, I would say spiritually I belong to the pagan community, though there is no association or moot that I attend. So I wondered, can a person belong to a community if they do not participate? The converse is that I attend Open Sanctuary morning meditation and Social Sundays, but do I belong? My answer is no. I am a member, free to attend, free to leave.

So what does belonging really mean to me? What I want it to mean is that some part of my identity is tied to something which gives me stability or even a sense of purpose. It is something more than simply a fact about me. It is not my age or name, it is not related to my interest in science fiction films or books, and it is not my job as much as I love what I do to earn an income.

So if it is none of those things, and belonging is something bigger than me, and I clearly don’t often associate with people who share my beliefs, how can I belong?

In frustration, I turned to a dictionary, a weighty tome of hundreds of pages, heavy and loaded with every word my imagination could entertain. In black text it read: “an emotional connection”; another dictionary stated “being accepted”, still another indicated “a close or intimate relationship”. Well, what to make of that? Clearly, I’ve overthought the exercise and come full circle to the beginning, and belonging simply means something akin to love and acceptance. Just like the relationship I have with my cat.

And as I sit here, I am giggling, laughing even, that this Sunday I shall listen carefully to what others think, and I shall say to them, I have thought long and hard, and still I am none the wiser. What does belonging mean to you?

Part 2

I’m writing this after our Social Sunday online gathering, and I feel relaxed. I have my second coffee of the morning beside me, and sleeping on a cushion next to my lap is my cat. The day outside is a little overcast; I can hear one of my neighbours mowing their lawn. It feels important to mention all of that, and I’ll come back to why a little later. As you can imagine, I was also feeling quite prepared for this morning’s discussion.

Almost immediately, a phrase was used by the host that jolted me: “an act of belonging”, as I hadn’t considered this thought at all. I feel I was so consumed with my own thoughts about the “sense of belonging” that it didn’t occur to me another person might innocently use a different expression, which changes the entire conversation.

Following a brief affirmation to relax and put ourselves in the moment, we were asked to sit in silence and think of a space or time where we have felt we belonged. Incredibly, this choice of words conspired to create a different discussion. For me, I remembered a peaceful place from my childhood and then, as an adult, being amongst friends who genuinely wanted me to be with them. I felt this validated all the thoughts I’d had before the gathering started.

For others in our online meeting, that might have seemed the wrong question to ask. And this brings me back to my second cup of coffee and hearing the neighbour’s lawnmower. You see, another person said belonging as an external construct didn’t vibe with them. In fact, for them it seemed belonging meant they were internally content in their own being. For them, place and time had little to do with belonging. I paraphrase, and I hope I haven’t taken their words out of context.

Another from our group agreed, yet also saw belonging as more spiritual, that they have a sense of belonging with their higher power, whether that be a God or something else in the Universe. I heard the expressions: “a connection of oneness” whilst we talked of animals on the African savannah drinking together at sunrise around the watering hole; and “touching the soul” as we considered how events can bring people together in shared grief.

To be sure, my nodding or perplexed looks must have given away what was actually happening in my conscious thoughts. I don’t believe all my pondering before this moment was incorrect, more that by hearing other views, remembering that several of the people on the call are community ministers accustomed to officiating at weddings and funerals, I found myself in that moment having a series of epiphanies that I’m sure will stay with me for many of the days ahead. This is some of the reason why I am writing part two of this Open Sanctuary blog post.

You recall in part 1, I concluded that I felt belonging meant a sense of belonging to something greater than myself? And then I became confused, and the many important dictionaries of the English language compounded that confusion. As our discussion unfolded, we returned to the idea of an act of belonging, and as I sit here typing, I wonder if this choice of wording has unlocked something within me. That to belong is a choice, or rather we can act to make the sense of belonging more real to ourselves.

Being honest with myself, that really works for me. I am tidying up my life, removing clutter, choosing the people I genuinely love and want to spend time with, and who seem to get as much pleasure from our shared journeys as I do. If I belong, it is because I’ve acted to create a happy space or chosen relationships that matter to me.

Even as I write these words though, I’m able to see that the way forward is to listen, to engage with good intent, to put aside ego, and to allow myself to recognise how I belong. That is a remarkably pleasant place to arrive.  Yes, I will continue to develop this train of thought. I may discover new meanings, or perhaps others will share alternate ideas and I’ll pivot again. What a beautiful environment that makes this possible. Today, I feel good about myself, and I belong.