Because I’m in the middle of a move to another home (it’s going to take months to get fully settled), I’ve been thinking a lot lately about where I belong. Actually, when I think about it, I’ve been thinking about it all my life. And if you keep thinking about it, and expand the thought, and let it get as big as it can get – it’s a pretty profound question. It encompasses where we belong not only in the physical space our bodies occupy (and our Spirit’s space inside that physical body), but the place we take up in our family, in our community, in our country, our planet, our Universe – you get the idea. Profound.

There were times in my life when I was told that I just took up too darn much space. If you have seen me, you know that’s kind of a silly accusation, and even sillier before middle age set in with its inevitable “spread.” But I do remember being a happy, bouncy baby and young child who sang songs, laughed a lot (Kamala’s laugh has nothing on my loud, bubbly cackle), danced and played and explored everywhere I went. Until, that is, I turned around six years old. I started getting shushed, getting slapped for being so (fill in the blank), getting reined in. I was suddenly “uncouth” and not “ladylike” and talked when I wasn’t spoken to. I was put in a box, in uncomfortable clothes that were pretty (sometimes) but too confining and didn’t let me play the way I wanted to. Put in a room where I was asked to sit still, pay attention, stop looking out the window, be quiet, raise your hand, do as you’re told. I started to have my own mind, my own idea of who I was, how the world was, how others were – my own ideas about everything. Apparently, they weren’t always the “right” ideas. I asked a lot of questions – the wrong questions – including “why?” I developed a personality, and a sense of my place in the world. I wasn’t cute anymore. The older I got, the more I tried to “fit in,” the less I did. I was awkward. I was strange. I was mouthy. Some folks still loved and appreciated me, even the maverick me. Others just wanted me to be “normal” already.

When I was around eight, I started to see myself as a female in the world, which I learned was very different from being male, and much less appealing to my kid self. I had less power, but I had a body that I was supposed to use to get what I wanted (according to Bugs Bunny cartoons). I heard my father ranting about the evil, ridiculous and stupid “women’s libbers,” and heard commercials saying “you’ve come a long way baby,” here smoke these cigarettes. I wanted to smoke Eve cigarettes, which had pretty flowers on them, because they had pretty flowers on them. But the leftover stumps I saw from my parents’ friends and thrown on the street were ugly and gross and smelled bad, even with the pink lipstick marks on the ends. I learned intuitively that I was supposed to act “sexy,” (whatever that meant) and that most women – especially the blondes (which I’m not) – were dumb, weak spendthrifts who didn’t know how to drive and needed taking care of (by men, of course). I didn’t want to be one of those women, but figured I would have to be, to belong.

Then I went to high school and tried hard to fit into a “clique,” but, again, I didn’t. I was smart, but most smart people stayed to themselves. I wasn’t that pretty, wasn’t in band, didn’t place in the choral competitions, wasn’t a cheerleader or athlete (though I was on the girls’ track team in its first year of existence my senior year, and although I was awful at my event – javelin – it was a lot of fun), and wasn’t a drinker or stoner. I had friends in each of these groups, and they seemed to tolerate that I wasn’t really one of them, but I was okay, they guessed. I didn’t really belong to any of them (my best friend, who I met in my Junior year, and my boyfriend at the time were saviors), but in a way, to all of them – on the periphery.

College was easier, since we weren’t expected to be part of a group. I did have friends, including my roommate, with whom I had an adjoining single room, and a few others, most of whom were friends made from the first-year dorm/floor cohort that then carried through the next three years. Since I lived on campus, away from home and my best friend, and my boyfriend, who went to a college on the other side of the state (we broke up during or not long after freshman year), it’s one of the times that my introverted nature served me well. I don’t really remember being lonely, except for those years after my significant relationship ended and none arose to take its place. I loved the campus, and the excitement of making life-building decisions, but never felt a sense of belonging. I’ve never gone back for any reunions or to visit.

Law school was not only a place where community wasn’t nurtured or encouraged, but where competition – sometimes cutthroat – thrived. I had very few friends, and if ever I was in a place where I felt I didn’t belong, it was during those three years. I met my first husband because we had apartments in the same building, and we became engaged almost immediately. It was a doomed relationship from the start – rebounds for both of us, a large age difference, mental illness, lack of support, the list goes on. We did not belong together, and stayed in the marriage much too long “for the children.”

Now in my sixties, I think I may have finally come to the point where I am beginning to know where I belong. I’m comfortable with my current (and final) husband, our children, my few soul-mate friends (including that high school friend who has been by my side, though far away physically, for almost 50 years now), my animals, my Guides, and the self I have found my way back to, after all these years. No need for sexy outfits, Eve cigarettes, perky conversations, legal prowess or even artistic excellence. Just belonging to myself – just the way I am.

And where do I belong in place? When I bought a sweet little place on the edge of a lake after years of searching, I thought I had found it. Three months later I met the man for whom I’d been searching for much longer, and I left my “forever home” behind. In hindsight, the physical place was beautiful, but I was (as we often do when we find what we think we’ve been looking for) ignoring some glaring red flags – some of the neighbors were not friendly, and some even actively went out of their way to make my life there unpleasant; and their close proximity made it hard to ignore. I didn’t really belong there. When I moved to my husband’s home, thinking it was “just temporary” until we found a place together, I knew it wasn’t where I belonged, either – it sits on a very busy, noisy street, and though the historic building itself is nice (thanks to my husband’s nurturing it), it belonged not to me, but to my husband and his ex-wife, and was chosen by them – not us. “Temporary” lasted for almost nine years, but now we are on our way to having something that is truly ours, with the waterfront and privacy that I need, the space and utility he needs, and the opportunity to offer our grandchildren a place that teems with nature Spirits and magical possibilities. We belong there.

So let’s expand now into where we belong in the larger world. Do I feel like I belong in the state in which I live? I believe so – much moreso, at least, than so many other states in this country. But do I belong in this country? Probably not, especially now. Given the overall culture of mean-spiritedness, polarization and exclusivity that prevails at this time in this country’s history, I know that I would feel more at home in a place that is peaceful, inclusive, slower-paced, kinder. Does such a place exist? Possibly. Do I have the means and ability to move there? Probably not, at least not and have the family and friends I need surrounding me. And again – I was born here… there must be a larger reason, to which I’m not privy – yet.

Okay, now it gets metaphysical – do I belong in this time? I considered doing a blog on the Time-Space Continuum, but, who am I kidding – I’m so right brained it’s not even funny. Math/Science have always been interesting (well, Science at least) but somewhat unattainable for me. It just doesn’t compute. But when I think back in history –  I remember some of the lifetimes I’ve led in other “places” (and even visit some others that are running concurrently while I’m asleep in this one) – there were some times in history in which I have been reviled by some people, and revered by others. In fact, truthfully, the same goes for right now. And likely will hold true for any future lives I may choose to live as well. Is there ever a time-space in which we totally belong? I believe that part of the learning of being here in the first place is not to feel as though we belong completely – what would be the point of coming here to learn how to grow our Spirit if everything were comfortable? Where we had all we want, everyone loved us, everything was fun and we are happy all the time? BOR-ing. Our highest selves deserve better than that. We deserve to struggle, to strive, to feel uncomfortable and work to find peace and strength in ourselves and share it with others – it’s our purpose here. Why else would we exist except to get better? This is where/when we belong.

Where do you belong? Do you feel comfortable in your own skin? Are you wondering what you’re doing here, in this place and time? Do you ever feel like something’s missing in your life, or that you don’t fit in? How have you coped? I think that if the answer is “I don’t know where I belong,” or even, “Meh,” the way to get through is to try to make a change if possible – new home, new job, different partnership, new circle of friends, maybe some education or travel or “putting yourself out there” in a different way. Find what’s missing and try to invite it in or replace it.

But that only solves part of the feeling of not belonging – the Earthly, physical plane belonging. The more important part is whether you feel that you belong on a metaphysical level – those age-old, existential feelings – “Why am I here?” How do you tackle those? For me, spending time in meditation helps. Spending some time, when things seem hopeless, pointless, frightening, confusing or just… sad, relaxing my body, quieting my mind, stopping everything else and just going with the flow of the Universe. Sounds woo-woo, I know, but if nothing else, it gets you to pause, breathe and feel yourself where and how and even why you are. Sometimes reach out in your mind and ask your highest self (yes, you have one) or Guides for answers. Other times, don’t bother asking the questions, just listen for the answers. Or better yet, just drift and see what happens. It may not bring you to an instant space of understanding, but it will at least help you to feel a moment’s peace. In the best of all worlds, after taking on this practice for a while, you will begin to see glimpses of where you fit in – where you belong – and why. Tap into your deepest desires – especially those you’ve been pushing away for some reason. Therein lies the key to where and why you really belong.

So, perhaps, belonging is an irrelevant/impossible part of any equation we try to devise to answer the question. The fact is.. we are here. It is now. We are us. The fact that we exist in this time, space, situation means that we belong here, despite the occasional discomfort. Because that’s the way things are. Leaning into it is the only way it makes sense. Incidentally, I’m glad that I’m here, and I’m equally glad that you’re here with me. Blessed be.