TRUE BELONGINGNESS
Belongingness is a difficult subject for intense souls.
When we look at the Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs, belongingness is seen as so important that it comes right after we gratify our needs for food and shelter. It is therefore understandable that many of us would do anything to feel like we are a part of something.
However, if you do not fit society’s conventional definition of ‘normality,' is it worth sacrificing your truth, or contorting yourself for the sake of fitting in?
‘Authenticity’ has become one of those buzz words, overused in online and social media, that it has almost lost its meaning. Throughout history, many philosophers, theologians, social theorists, and thinkers have explored the idea of authentic living. The existentialist philosopher Heidegger (1995), for instance, suggested that being authentic means reclaiming oneself from unexamined conformity. He even named the call for authenticity within ourselves the “call of conscience,” not in a moralistic sense, but because it is the ultimate responsibility of each one of us to realign our beings with our true selves and strip away the expectations placed upon us.
The tension between belongingness and authenticity is illustrated in a tale about Zumbach, the Tailor:
As legend had it, a man in this village had succeeded in business and wanted to have a new suit made. He went to Zumbach, the most famous tailor in the land, and had himself measured. When he came hack to Zumbach’s shop the next week for the final fitting, put on his new suit and stood in front of the mirror, he saw that the right sleeve was two inches longer than the left.
“Er, Zumbach,” he said, “there seems to be something wrong here. This sleeve is at least two inches too long.” The tailor, who didn't like back talk from his customers, puffed himself up and said,
“There is nothing wrong with the suit, my good man. Clearly, it’s the way you’re standing.” With that, Zumbach pushed on the man’s shoulder until the sleeves were even. But when the customer looked in the mirror, he saw that the fabric at the back of the suit was bunched up behind his neck. “Please, Zumbach,” the poor man said, “my wife hates a suit that bulges in back. Would you mind just taking that out?”
Zumbach snorted indignantly, “I tell you there’s nothing wrong with this suit! It must be the way you’re standing.” Zumbach shoved the man’s head forward until the suit seemed to fit him to perfection. After paying the tailor’s high price, the man left Zumbach’s store in confusion.
Later that day, he was waiting at the bus stop with his shoulders lopsided and his head straining forward, when another fellow took hold of his lapel and said, “What a beautiful suit! I’ll bet Zumbach the tailor made that suit for you.”
“Why, yes,” the man said, “but how did you know?”
“Because only a tailor as brilliant as Zumbach could outfit a body as crippled as yours.”
(Source: Polishing the Mirror, Ram Dass)
For how many years now, have you been trying to fit in, even when you don’t?
Maybe you have sacrificed your rights, silenced your voice, or endured much discomfort, to be like everyone else?
Can you feel truly belonged, if you are not yourself?
To truly connect with anyone, you must show up as who you are, with all your imperfections and struggles. If being you makes you feel unbearably lonely, you ought not to dismiss your heartache and longings, as they are precisely the vehicles to you finding your people. In a strange, paradoxical way, you can find some refuge in letting the loneliness of being intense bring you to a community of loners.
Your tribe exists, even it is harder to find it, even your friends are dotted around the world, cutting through time and space. You may have to look beyond your immediate surrounding, into our collective life, the woes in nature and the world. You may look across history, into paintings, literature, poetry, hymns, and lyrics.
To connect honestly, you may even have to plunge deeply and unapologetically into your aloneness— by writing it, screaming it, singing it, drawing it, dancing with it. In other words, you get real with who you are— in any shape or form. When you can do that not only do you allow others to find refuge in your voice, you also liberate others to do the same.
Honesty is the best medicine to you existential aloneness. You can only identify the light and sparkles in others when you can own them for yourself.
”When Akiba was on his deathbed, he bemoaned to his rabbi that he felt he was a failure. His rabbi moved closer and asked why, and Akiba confessed that he had not lived a life like Moses. The poor man began to cry, admitting that he feared God's judgment. At this, his rabbi leaned into his ear and whispered gently, “God will not judge Akiba for not being Moses. God will judge Akiba for not being Akiba.”
—FROM THE TALMUD
THIS WEEK’s experiment: YOUR RESOURCES
This is the third part of the Story Exercise.
Take a moment to reflect on the following with regards to the protagonist of your story:
Who or what has been supporting them throughout their journey?
It could be an internal quality that they have, or a person, a life force.
It could be a close loved ones, a distant friend, or a role model.
Who brings out the best in them? Who do they reach out to in times of crisis?
Could it be a philosophy, a mindset, or a spiritual practise that has supported them?
What qualities do they have that makes them more resilient than others?
Visualise these antagonists in your journal- either by drawing them out or choosing imageries to represent them.