A Sense of Belonging

December 26, 2013

Brrr!  It's still really chilly here today.  I'm still in my jammmies, steaming hot coffee in hand!!  I hope that y'all had a great Christmas and are looking forward to 2013.

Last March I moved from North of Dallas to Central Texas.  I doubt if we will ever see snow here but it sure is cold.  Christmas Day brought rain with a few pellets of ice and WIND!!  I holed up in the cottage and read a book I got for Christmas, THE KITCHEN HOUSE written by Kathleen Grissom (it's a New York Times bestseller and if you like history, you'd enjoy it).  The story takes place in the late 1700's, early 1800's and gives an eye opening picture of life on a plantation.  Not only were there slaves but also indentured servants (in this case, a young girl who lost her parents on the journey from Ireland to America).

The book touched heavily on the concept of belonging.  To feel alone and rejected is misery no matter what one's status in life.  Simone Weil says, "To be rooted is perhaps the most important and least recognized need of the human soul."  As a child I knew that I belonged ... I belonged to the son of Maggie Pederson, I belonged to Glenwood Lutheran Church, I belonged to the choir, the band, the Girl Scouts, and I had a close group of friends (still do).  There was comfort in belonging and knowing where I fit.

When I went to college, I felt lost and sought out groups where I was accepted.  Luckily, my best friend in high school was my roommate and the transition to college life was easier.  When I met my future husband, his family welcomed me like their own daughter.  They were kind, loving, and, more than anything, they liked who I was (except for the fact that I didn't eat much!). Every time I visited these loving people, I felt uplifted and a "part of" their circle. They included me, introduced me, supported me, and shared their lives with me. I was drawn to that like flies to honey. I learned from them and their legacy has grown through me.  I began to learn to make my way in this world, seeking out places where I was accepted and people who loved me.  I responded readily to words of affirmation and encouragement. 

There are words inside me waiting to be spoken ... in my journey of life, I have experienced belonging because of class, race, dignity, deep buried secrets, and familial bonds.  I have been on the inside looking out and the outside looking in.  What is the opposite of being included?  Excluded.  To not be invited ... to be invited but ignored and discounted.  There are times when I have been in a room full of people and felt so --- alone.  I think everyone can relate at one time or another.

My move to Central Texas has been a very difficult adjustment.  I have experienced a deep loneliness from not having a church to belong to and friends and family left behind.  Maybe it was just one too many moves, I'm not sure.  I am a positive, optimistic person who enjoys filling other's cups; however, I have found that my cup needs filling as well.  Think about this, you can lose everything material and that can be replaced.  To lose people?  Devastating!  Ask anyone who has lost a beloved spouse after many years of marriage.

On my life's travels, I have developed a deep sense of empathy for my fellowman.  I welcome those who want to enter my home and my world with open arms.  I share what I have with others and remain teachable.  As I have opened my heart and home there have been times when life has thrown me a curve ball ... THEREFORE, I have also had to learn boundaries.  A counselor once told me, "Dottie, the only ones who like doormats are those with muddy feet."  Run over me and you'll experience a huge STOP sign.

After you read this, draw a circle ... who do you allow in and who do you keep out?  Do you have a big sign at your front door or that spells out P-R-I-V-A-T-E?  This Christmas I had a phone call from a dear friend.  She attended a Christmas Eve party at her son-in-law's mother's home where there was a mix of family, neighbors, and friends.  Christmas Day there was to be another party.  It reminded me of Christmas at my Grandmother Pederson's home ... the more the merrier.  She lived on welfare and didn't have much but boy howdy, she stretched what she had, mixed it with love and joy, and never locked her door.  That's the stock I come from!

Always remember you are loved and prayed for ... YA YOU!!

Miss Dottie

PS  “Owning our story can be hard but not nearly as difficult as spending our lives running from it. Embracing our vulnerabilities is risky but not nearly as dangerous as giving up on love and belonging and joy—the experiences that make us the most vulnerable. Only when we are brave enough to explore the darkness will we discover the infinite power of our light.”
― Brené Brown