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This is a transcript from episode #43 of the Let the Verse Flow Podcast.

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I’m waking home, a checkboard pattern made up of ancient cobblestones, 5th Avenue, the park side of East Harlem, and my shoulders are tight and high up – touching my ears. My back, a dull ache, and the hips start to hurt. They do that now, as the years have ticked by, but I’ve no time to indulge them. I have to get home, past the museum mile, a million exhibits I’ve never seen, into the park before dusk. Before the bats and owls, the sad and tired overtake the benches, the road, the path. It’s uphill and my face starts to contort. But who can see it in the dark of night? I start to think, and thinking alone with miles to walk isn’t such a good thing. Thinking about my day at work, where I haven’t been heard; They didn’t hear me or see me or try to build a bridge, and I could say that’s the way it goes and it really doesn’t matter, but those 8 hours at work make up my life, and I won’t get that time back. And, I want to be heard, be seen, for more than what my brain can spill out, my fingers so fast they type, each word a dollar sign. But where’s the meaning, I wonder? Is anyone listening? Who among us has the privilege of being heard or seen for who we really are? For those eight hours, we are unseen, the unseen masses longing to be free. Will we break out? After so many years of conditioning, it’s not likely, oh man, it’s not likely. I’m almost home, my pace starts to quicken, and I can feel home is near. A cozy spot, a respite from this internal storm. A certain someone I long to see is on the other side of several doors. I’m nearly there, and gleeful now cause I know he will listen; I’ve been found ... Honey, I’m home. How was your day? I almost can’t wait to tell him what I have to say, but I have to be pleasant, supportive, loving to my love. He knows I want to tell him something, I don’t have to tell him that. He knows me, several decades of knowing. I have to get these things off my chest. I have to find someone who speaks my language – he does, and it’s understood. I start off with the big tales – the situations, exchanges that must bubble forth, and the “he said” and “she said” that’s still playing in my head. Old tapes that seem like they’ll never ever die. Spinning around. My mind goes back in time to the playground at school, PS 75, and the tough girls won’t let me play double dutch with them cause I’m too this or that; I’m not cool enough, I’m too fat. And my motley crew – the outcasts, what do we know about counting or ropes or skipping, we just long to be part of something and not go on feeling like we’re missing. Like we don’t belong to our own lives, like we aren’t a part of our childhood play. How can we keep up with the ropes when we’re always tripping and in our own way? The leader of the pack, the Double Dutch queen, her name is Jewel, she’s the toughest – like the hardest edge of a gemstone I suppose. She says, we’re too clumsy and stupid to play their games. And her cold, black eyes look us up and down. How could we play with someone that cold, won’t the ropes break from her stone-cold touch? She breaks our hearts with her words. It hurt our feelings, I felt crushed. I can still feel it now, and don’t realize that decades later I brought that story forth. I’d kept it buried from when I was 8 or 9. Today’s events were the trigger, as Jewel’s counterparts brought the memory forth. But I don’t want to live in the past, to be ruled by old hurts. And I ask my love, Shouldn’t I be smarter than this? Shouldn’t I know what’s true in the here and now, and not go dipping into old stories that conjure up old hurts? He says, he understands, he knows how I feel. It was those 5 little words I wanted most to hear – in his voice. I know how you feel. And he does, it’s no lie. He knows how I feel, on that, I can rely.

Let’s talk about belonging and finding our people, the people who get us, who value our ideas, and who enjoy being in our company.

How Old Wounds Can Trigger New Feelings

Those five words Arthur said to me “I know how you feel,” brought on a sense of connection. He does know how I feel. While I was on the upper west side of Manhattan in the 70s trying not to get my ass kicked, he was in the South Bronx, protecting himself as well. A way more treacherous place in the '60s when he was growing up (he’s 11 years older than me), Arthur lived in the rough neighborhood around Washington Ave. He made it out, and boy does he have some stories to tell.

I always let him tell his story, but I’m sure the bullies around his schoolyard were treacherous, and he knows how old wounds like that can haunt you in the present. How you can bring forth old memories and make connections between the current hurt or anger you feel now and some feelings that you had in the past. Current angst can indeed trigger old wounds and replay old stories in your head. It can be a co-worker, or even an interaction with a stranger that conjures up or triggers a memory you’d rather forget, and what you most need in that moment is to be understood. To be recognized and seen and heard.

group of adults sitting and talking around a table at a coffee shop

Social Linkages & Belonging

We all need to belong. To spend time among “our people” – whatever that means to us. Psychologists describe humans as a social species, and from birth, we are dependent on one another for survival. We work together to solve problems. Feeling accepted in a group, having something to contribute, and people who recognize that contribution are important motivational factors for getting things done. Think of how much more motivated you are to get a work project done when the rest of your team wants to hear your ideas and build on them, with a spirit of collegiality, or how you’ll stay later at a party if you are having a great talk with at least one person who seems to want to keep the conversation going with you.

That feeling that they are listening, that they understand what you mean by the things that you say, and that they are interested in your way of being and thinking. It starts to cement the relationship and starts to set off a feeling of belonging. You become socially linked, or in the case of the work example, cooperatively and professionally linked. You begin to count on those linkages to motivate you, to define your friend or co-worker group, and to give you a sense of agency that you are on the right learning path, having fun, working, whatever the activity is that you do with this group.

As I’ve mentioned on the podcast before, I have a loving best friend. I’m grateful for her friendship and for the feeling of being completely seen and understood by her. I reflect that to her as well. But sometimes you need a group; you need a group of colleagues, a group of potential friends at a party, or a group of fellow meditators or artists or coffee drinkers, depending on where you are and what you are doing. What you’re into.

closeup of a book, held by a woman reading outside with a group

I’ve recently seen book-reading groups popping up in New York City. People get together at a large location, like the Hudson Yards, and sit together reading their books. The people who go are “book readers,” “book lovers;” they are making a sort of statement through their actions that they are going to put down their phones for a while and come together with other like-minded folks to read.

The organization that organizes the events gives away books and reinforces a love of reading by asking some of the participants to describe their book and why they picked it. This group has an identity, everyone is a book reader and a book lover; they like the physical feeling of holding and reading books and they have come out to be among other people who share that sensibility. The belonging they feel may motivate them to keep reading, while they make new friends that they can discuss books with. It also helps define their strengths and interests. Many of them probably identify as literary lovers or book lovers. That’s belonging to a group.  

This sense of belonging can lead us to join lots of different types of groups, we are Swifties, Dead Heads, Science Nerds, Poetry Nuts, and Sangha Seekers. We long to be included in a group that sees us for who we are and holds space for the interests and viewpoints that matter to us.

We don’t find that belonging everywhere; I’ve discovered that it’s been difficult to replace my friend group at work. As I get older, I’ve lost some friends and family members across the board. Some of my co-workers have left work, some of my college friends are too far away, and some of my family (my mom in particular) are inaccessible for the types of interactions that foster belonging. The group of people who seem to “get me” has gotten smaller, and now when I talk to the people who are left, some part of me is wondering if they understand me. If we are “speaking the same language” as the saying goes.

Also, my interests have changed. I’m more into poetry, music, dance, and meditation. I’m more introspective these days, working on personal growth goals, and less into pop culture or the latest Netflix show. In addition to having different interests now, some philosophical beliefs are anchoring me. My creative perspective is at the top of that list. The way I value honesty and “realness” in people. The yearning to talk about feelings, personal philosophies, and art. Those are the topics that I’m interested in right now. I understand these aren’t always forthcoming, and certain settings (like work) aren’t meant to foster these discussions, but having a few key people walk alongside you during the day goes a long way to ease the feeling that somehow you don’t belong to the current group of people you’re enmeshed in.

group of meditators sitting in lotus position on the floor with a woman in the foreground

So as I’ve been thinking about belonging as a member of other groups – belonging to a meditation group, a friend group, or a group of music fans, and that sense of belonging is sparked and pursued as part of human nature, a very human urge has welled up in me. I’m longing to surround myself with a core group of folks who jive with my values and understand my thinking, To have those thoughts constructively challenged, reflected, or cherished by others in the group.

This need for belonging to a group is strong for many of us, and we may have to actively seek it if we don’t currently have that in our lives. This need, to feel seen and understood, is deeply human. In some ways, our very survival has depended on group membership, even going back to ancient or prehistoric times, cultures have relied on their clan, tribe, village, town, church, and school to spend time in defined groups of commonality. 

There is another facet to belonging and one that I think about often as I get closer to age 60. That is belonging to myself. As I’ve recently lost my friend group at work and my mom’s communication has become nearly nonexistent, I have huge gaps in feeling a sense of belonging at work. But, alongside this, I notice an increase in another type of belonging that I am increasingly looking to enrich, and that is a sense of belonging related to how I belong to myself.

Self-Belonging: An Essential Part of Adulting 

In the last three or so years, I have gotten stronger internally (and yes, I do see the connection between handling the stress and challenge of my mom’s ailing health and my personal growth in this way). How am I stronger internally? I have taken sides in my own thinking, and I’ve largely put some of my fretful thoughts in their place. I’ve learned to recognize (sometimes) that thoughts are simply thoughts that often don’t mean that much.

Before getting into meditation and studying Buddhist thinking and philosophies, I thought my thoughts were things. Almost mandates. I didn’t question their validity and I gave them way more weight than they deserved. I did this, especially with my worrisome thoughts. I’d predict awful outcomes for my perceived (and real) struggles without questioning if any of those predictions had any substance. Most of my dreadful stories never came to pass. They never happened. Something else happened, but not what I thought would happen. But I didn’t learn from this faulty prediction machine of mine until I started watching, and observing my thoughts and working to remove judgment and tease out their validity. I observed these sometimes gruesome thoughts rise, fall and never come true. And I started to do that more in my mid to late 50s. 

As I did this evaluation of thoughts, I stripped down my struggles to a few key areas that I felt better able to handle. For example, I began to see patterns that when people didn’t listen to me at work, I worked on teasing my emotional and sometimes irrational thoughts (they don’t care for me) to a more rational and conscious decision to recognize that some people value different things than I do. And I realized that I connected this need to be understood (and aligned with others) because of some deeply held beliefs that other people’s agreement with me meant they valued me.

I felt protected by the fact that others held my views as worthwhile. I attached my value to other people’s assessments. And I could see myself telling stories in my mind that if they didn’t value me enough to listen and agree with me on a variety of topics, they didn’t care about me. And somehow that translated into not being cared for at all (at least in my mind). That leap from one specific instance of not being understood or feeling belonging grew to encompass a universal feeling of not being cared for. This was even though I had incredible loved ones and friends who valued me very much. So as I began to examine this wackadoodle thinking through the insights I got while meditating, I was somehow more able to detach from it and view it objectively. I couldn’t have done that before my mom got ill. I couldn’t have done that in my 30s or 40s.

Somehow my sense of mortality plays into this too. I have less time on this planet, and I don’t want to hold onto outdated, false, and frankly emotionally harmful ways of seeing myself and the world I live in. I want to know who to go to when I need or want to feel a sense of belonging and understand that some groups aren’t for me. Ultimately though, I want to belong to myself first and know what that means, so that when I meet potential new friends, I can know that they are interested in the real me.  

The Courage to Belong to Yourself

Author and podcaster Brene Brown said,

Belonging so fully to yourself that you’re willing to stand alone is a wilderness--an untamed, unpredictable place of solitude and searching. It is a place as dangerous as it is breathtaking, a place as sought after as it is feared...it turns out to be the place of true belonging, and it’s the bravest and most sacred place you will ever stand.

Belonging to yourself does sometimes feel untamed and like you are in the wilderness, but it’s an authentic feeling. And somewhere in your mind and heart, you know that it’s right. That you need to belong to yourself first and foremost, and only when that deep sense of belonging is present (or at least growing and you have awareness of it), can you identify and walk together meaningfully with your group of friends and family.

You have the right to define yourself without approval or validation from others. Understanding that, cultivating that sense of inner belonging can be powerful, and self-empowering. As we shape our identities over our lifetime, we can change. We can morph and grow into the person that we most want to be. There’s inner listening that has to happen first, and identification with actions and people who resonate with us, but then too, there’s the need to allow your true essence to bubble up to the surface. To see your true self and say “I am enough.” Here’s how I would say that to myself. This poem is called, I Belong to Myself.

I Belong to Myself

By Jill Hodge

Who do I belong to? I belong to myself
The curls, the voice, the smile, given freely
A warm glow wrapped around my head
A magenta halo ideally
Who do I belong to? I belong to myself
The sarcasm, irony, humor hit differently
Misunderstood or simply tucked away
Your steely eyes do the talking, they convey
Who do I belong to? I belong to myself
The fantasy, plot twist, character, display, I see it clearly
And at no time are you present
I’m every character, front stage center in every scene, well nearly
Who do I belong to? I belong to myself
In good company, I’m in the ocean now
where the seal, the turtle, the stingray, glide in gentle blue, cleanly
And the thrill of my life flashes by, it’s so dreamy
For if I don’t belong to myself, I belong to no one
If I can’t befriend my interior, my thoughts, my wants, completely
Who will want to stand beside me? And really see me
I belong to myself
In abundance when others aren’t around
The breath, the warmth, an inner glow, it soothes me
I rattle off a million ways that I belong to myself
For only then, can you by chance see me clearly
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So, there’s a psychological need that we have as humans to belong to others. To groups, to be in the presence of like-minded individuals, and there’s the belonging we feel toward ourselves. As I adjust to the loss of a wonderfully supportive set of colleagues at work, I have to accept the fact that my “people” may no longer be at work. I have to reframe work now, as a place where teamwork is not necessarily embedded with friendship. It’s an adjustment for me. I find myself wanting to take a break from writing, meeting, and researching, and I used to plan those breaks as a time to talk to my work friends. Now, I’m building in movement breaks (stretching at my desk) or walking around the building at lunchtime.

As far as belonging to ourselves, that’s a bigger job, but I’m happy to report that as I get older, I find it easier. I have more self-love and more awareness and appreciation for my good qualities. I’m an introspective, compassionate person with a lot of empathy, and it feels good to recognize that and share it with others. I try to share it in little, unseen ways too. For example, I look people in the eye, which in NYC can be a bit daunting. I try to connect. It’s part of my belief in being present with the certain knowledge that everyone was once someone’s baby. Someone’s baby girl. Someone’s baby boy. Every rough-around-the-edges homeless person was once someone’s little baby. Hopefully, their life started off with love. Anyway, I try to see them; to be present, even if I don’t engage in conversation.

I was recently on a subway platform and a guy who looked more than a bit rough around the edges tried to talk me up. He told me I was beautiful, with great curls, he had a few lines. I looked at him to let him know I saw him but didn’t engage much more than that. He finally asked if I was married, and I flashed my wedding ring. He got the hint and moved along. It was a brief, inconsequential encounter, but instead of ignoring him, instead of pretending I didn’t see him, I looked at him. I think people sometimes just want to be acknowledged. 

Don’t misunderstand, it’s not always our responsibility to do that. There are certainly days when I have my resting bitch face on. But when I can be present, I try to remember that my empathy comes from a deeply held belief that all people have the same human qualities and desires as I have. They want love, a home, food, and a place in this world. When I remember that, I stay close to my inner sense of belonging because I realize that that’s my special lens of seeing the world.

My mother gifted that to me. My mom has what some would call an “every person’s face,” and I think I have it too. It’s an open, inviting face that others want to interact with. It’s a kind face. Anyway, you get where I’m going here. There are certain qualities that you have that are endearing to you. Personality traits, beliefs that manifest in a certain way, and when you admire those qualities in yourself, it sets off a deep feeling of belonging. Of belonging to yourself. It’s like you are claiming yourself. 

Meditation Saves the Day!

I think meditation is a wonderful catalyst for gaining this type of insight into your best qualities and tapping into that feeling that you belong to yourself. It doesn’t happen right away – it’s not like you meditate for a while and the insight is guaranteed, but I have found that through a somewhat consistent practice of meditation, I learn the quality and nature of my thoughts. In those thoughts, and my reaction to them, lie clues about my true nature. My values, what lights me up, and what I need to work on. 

For example, I’ve found that my mind is full of overthinking. As soon as I sit down to meditate, I feel this rush come over me of thoughts. It’s like the dinner bell has rung and my mind goes,

Oh, everybody, hear that, Jill’s stopped doing stuff and she’s resting now. We’re on!

Immediately a flood of ideas and thoughts come into my mind. My meditation sometimes feels like a boxing match with me trying to see, acknowledge, and then jab my thoughts out of the way so I can find some peace. However, it’s usually sometime later, after the meditation, that I figure out something important about myself, or see patterns in thinking that I might want to change (or sometimes keep and admire).

I’ve created a series of guided meditations both here for the podcast and for the Insight Timer app. You can find me there if you use the app. I highly recommend meditation to slowly turn down the volume of your thoughts, especially those day-to-day worrisome thoughts, or mindless thoughts, and come in closer connection with your body and allow yourself some peace. That opens the portal, the mental portal, to help you figure out who you are, what makes you tick, and what’s special about you, and that’s the beginning of belonging. Belonging to yourself.

Journal Prompts to Reflect on Self-Belonging

In the next episode, I’m going to share a meditation to guide you to this place of belonging, but for now, I want you to consider these journal prompts. One of the obstacles to belonging is the need for external validation, a feeling that others need to approve of you and your ideas for you to be good enough. Let’s explore that this week. Write or reflect on these questions.   

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How does what others think of you affect your sense of self-worth?
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What are two qualities that you like most about yourself?
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How does recognizing these qualities help you feel a sense of self-belonging?

I’ve indeed lost friends over the years, and I’ve felt tinges of loneliness at work lately, but there’s also been an uptick in my internal sense of belonging that’s coming fast and furious to the surface. The two most powerful catalysts for this have been this intense period of self-reflection in the last three years and my developing meditative practice. The more I learn about myself, the more I realize that while I may not be everyone’s cup of tea, I have a deep well of compassion for my loving family of fellow humans. I hold tight to that sense of belonging, and when I feel it, I feel at home on the bright side of the beat.🌞

Podcast Music: My thanks to all the musicians who make incredible music and have the courage to put it out into the world. All music for my podcast is sourced and licensed for use via Soundstripe.

Songs in this episode: Magic Garden by Daniele Musto; Slide by GEMM; Darker Hue by Hale; My Time Lil Red Sky; Pyaar Kee Seemaen by Cast of Characters

Related Episodes:

Affirmation Meditation for a Positive Morning Routine (#37)

Affirmation Meditation: Keep Your Dreams Alive ( #20)

Resources:

Jill’s Insight Timer Guided Meditations

LTVF Season Two Music Playlist: Check out the songs that inspire me, and connect with artists from many genres who add to our collective, human soundtrack.

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Journaling Resources

30-Day Journal Challenge (Writing Prompts to Get Started)
Here’s a fun & simple 30-day journal challenge for beginners (or those who need inspiration). Use the daily prompts to rediscover yourself.
Let the Verse FlowJill Hodge

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Journaling 101: An Inspirational Guide to Start (or Revive) a Practice
Whether you write, doodle, draw, or keep memorable quotes, journaling uncovers YOU. Let your unconscious mind speak, download my free guide.
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