I started studying belonging in earnest as part of upstream suicide prevention. I discovered that though all the research says belonging is critical, two things are lacking in most studies: what it is and how to get it. There is a common assumption that we know these things - but we don’t. I think we misunderstand the concept and its importance, we don’t really know how it works, and we are hesitant to try too hard to figure out both. We worry that trying too hard exposes our vulnerability and takes on the desperate tone of the awkward kid asking “You want to be friends?”
I believe our hesitance is part of what turns church into a facade of connection rather than a genuine and truly generative collaboration. The same is true for marriage. The early excitement and fascination of hopeful infatuation turn into difficult and vulnerable work after the showing off is over. It is part of the reason for the separation of personal and professional in workspaces. Building belonging is a painstakingly slow and counterintuitive endeavor in a hyper-individualistic, hyper-independent culture. So we look for a readymade framework that claims to provide it for us. Religion, marriage, work, fandoms, political parties, and other organizations tempt us with membership that includes built-in belonging. With rare (if any) exceptions, belonging does not get built without intentional personal investment and risk. It is a structure - a created and cultivated condition that has to be fought for and protected. If left alone it deteriorates and becomes toxic. Accepting the implications of this truth is the first crucial step towards experiencing the belonging we are desperate for. I’ll share what I’ve discovered about what it is and how to get it over the next few days.
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I broke my wrist a couple years ago and learned a lot about independence. I couldn’t tie my shoes or buckle my belt. The nerve blocker I got for my surgery completely paralyzed my arm. I was up all night for fear that I would roll over and break it clean off. I know that’s irrational but I was on drugs. The parts of my body that usually work quietly in a sort of mutual exchange with all the other parts… didn’t. All my internal collaborations had to adapt while healing took place. My wrist was not and never has been independent. Neither am I. Or you. Or any of us.
But this is good news. It means the limits of one human’s mental, emotional, and physical capacity are not limited to the boundaries of their brain, heart, and body. We can, should, and do continually borrow from those we are in relationship with. Like a bicep borrows from the other muscles, tendons, and bones of the arm, shoulder, and back to function at its highest capacity - we borrow from each other to offer our best. We are individuals but we are inTERdependent. This is not just a human thing. It is an everything in the universe thing. Atoms, molecules, cells, bodies, ecosystems, and solar systems. Homosapiens exist because of social integration. When we disconnect, we decay on every level. “Loneliness is one of the most toxic environmental risk factors that we’re aware of in terms of all-cause mortality” (S Cole et al., 2015). This suggests that our culture’s over-valuation of independence is the greatest threat to our individual and communal health. And we know this whether we like it or not. It is why we like to celebrate independence day by gathering together with the people we love. Meleea and I endured the pandemic and the other Tomfoolery by restoring our house. We have redone nearly every surface on our property. After all the remodeling in my career, I have noticed a few transferable principles. One is that structures are living organisms. They are the combined narrative of all the stories of all their parts. Every beam, doorknob, and floorboard was part of something before and came to be a part of its present home by a circuitous route, picking up residue along the way. Their shifting story unfolds when the new structure is first imagined. Every character, problem, and well (or poorly) crafted solution contributes to the story.
Soon after we started restoring the Apiary*, we realized that our 1963 home had endured its own kind of trauma. This changed how we deconstructed - our expectations for the time and complexity of the very varied restoration process, the uselessness of undue frustration, and the interaction of one traumatized part with all the other also traumatized parts. We slowed down and invested in our own healing as we rebuilt. Some parts we replaced with better fitting ones, some we relocated or repurposed, and some that were damaged - we sanded, straightened, and reinforced. Our damaged house became a healing place long before its restoration was complete. There is a pattern of aliveness and healing in built and organic structures - including people. The generative value of every part shows up with good construction. But sometimes we build and care for our structures poorly. When we recognize change is needed, complete demolition is rarely the solution. Slow, thoughtful, loving restoration hears and honors the stories, reconnects, and strengthens. We only heal when we rebuild collaboratively. *Our home’s name is the Apiary because we call our partnership “Honey Bee.” Sweet but stings. I know depression. When JC said, “Depression is your body saying f*ck you,” I understood. In 2012, I told a doctor what I was thinking and feeling and he gave me a prescription. But it was my whole body that was upset, not just my brain and heart. By July 2009, I had logged over three decades of loyal participation in organized religion. It was how I experienced belonging. I felt known and valued in my relationships there. But then I stopped going and my experience of belonging in a religious context evaporated.
I did not react much at the time because I was experiencing belonging rather intensely in some other contexts. But three years later, after gaining momentum in a new vocational direction, I gave a workshop for my old church. Some of them didn’t like it and I was devastated. Right after that, my body revolted. It was a long time before I realized why. I had misunderstood belonging and some of my deepest connections for thirty years. After years of studying belonging and how it shows up in the patterns of nature all around us, I believe negative mental, emotional, and physical reactions are often evidence of mistaken belonging. Belonging is not conferred by human-engineered laws or institutions. It comes from generative cooperation with the natural laws of the universe. We do not belong because of our country, race, religion, political affiliation, socio-economic status, or favorite sports team. We belong when our relationships operate based on mutual exchange and we experience the reality that who we really are is needed. When we try to belong based on anything other than who we really are and how we really fit, our body, brain, and heart will tell us - something is not right. Jim Carey (actor) once said “depression is your body saying ‘f*ck you, I don’t want to be this character anymore. I don’t want to hold up this avatar that you’ve created. It’s too much for me.’” This brilliant insight holds a big clue about belonging. It is this; if our thoughts, feelings, or behavior is based on anything other than our most true self, we pay a price. Our soul is eroded by the existence of our false self because its nature is to take up the space our true self is supposed to inhabit. So, to whatever degree it exists in or as ourselves, it disrupts our connections with other people in the structure of belonging we discover and build together. Our lifelong task is to learn who we are. Some of this learning needs to be done in the stillness and silence of solitude but most can only be done in the context of relationships. Our true identity is not defined or experiencecd outside of belonging because who we are is for our community. No one’s purpose is to be rich and comfortable. Everyone’s one-of-a-kind purpose has something to do with the generative work that is done in groups. That identity-centric, collaborative purpose can only be discovered through personal, honest, and action-oriented interdependence. It is a paradox. To grow through the darkness that haunts us and drives us into isolation, we must connect. To learn who we are, we must seek the input of others. But there are no “others” who do not also need input. It is reciprocal dependency. Even as you seek out and take the relational resources you need, the value of your true self is needed for others. We are a symbiotic species - just like all the other ones. |
Curtis MillerI write in a geeky, sciency, hopefully poetic way about belonging, storytelling, community building, deconstruction and construction, Archives
August 2023
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