Dear Belonging

Dear Belonging,

There’s this noise in my head. “You’re not welcome here.”

“Leave. Now.”

The noise makes me want to jump. Or POOF! Disappear.

It keeps me alert to leave before I’m kicked out.  Dear Belonging, I don’t want to feel unwanted.  I don’t want to be left behind. I don’t want to feel rejected, discarded, or pushed out.

I entered this world feet first, literally. Ready to run. I probably was yanked out of my mom’s womb. She probably didn’t push. She was knocked out.

Right. And I did get kicked out of nearly every home I lived in. I did get kicked out of school. I did get kicked out of dance communities. This story isn’t working for me, dearest belonging.

What if I turn that story around?

What if I say I jumped into this world landing on my feet. What if I tell my story “I’m welcome here. So are you.”

“I belong here. You belong here too.”

I’ve got to say both. I hear both. I feel both statements. They come together as a duet.

“I am welcome. Thank you very much.”

This is the seat of gratitude.

Dear Belonging, I don’t like the word long inside of you. I long for the feeling of belonging. Be Long. Be Short. Be here. Take up space.

“You have a seat at the table.”

“I want to sit on the floor.”

I deflect so quickly.

“Sit at the table. Take a seat. Join us here.”

Belonging requires participation.

I’ve got to take the seat.

I’ve got to grab the chair and pull it out away from the table. Then I gotta sit in it. Then scoot my chair up to the table. Then rest my arms on the table. I gotta take my spot at the table.

Belonging is an active verb. It doesn’t come to you.

You don’t receive it. You take it.

With both hands.

With your ass.

With your feet.

And with your full attention.

Belonging is active not passive.

Belonging is being part of something bigger.

As long as I’m outside the box-Where do I belong?

As long as I’m out on a limb-well, I belong to the branch. I belong to the trunk and to the roots.

Yet, I’ve imagined myself being a detached leaf blowing in the wind. I belong to the wind.

I don’t like being in the wind.

I like being attached to the tree.

So If I’m a leader, I belong to the followers.

“I belong here. You belong here. We are WelCome here.”

We all need an advocate. Your strength resides in your vulnerability. You are not alone.
Did you know your ears go straight to your heart?
Listening is my super power. I’m honored to be your Heart Whisperer.

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512-925-0625 or text.