THE WANING OF BELONGING

Why connection alone is not enough

The phrase, “the waning of belonging,” which I first encountered in the writings of Bruce Hafen, has stayed with me for years.

I remember coming home one afternoon from high school.

I opened the door and entered a disaster zone. Furniture in disarray, stuff all over the floor, and wall hangings all askew.

But sitting in a cleared spot on the dining room table was a lone piece of paper.

I was drawn to it and picked it up. I recognized my mother’s hurried handwriting. She had taken my sisters and left for Kansas.

I had no idea.

I stood holding the paper, stunned with no place to sit.

Soon thereafter my stepfather came in the door, returning from another two-week business trip. He paused before entering, his eyes sweeping the room.

I could not answer his questions.

An envelope with his name was on the table. He opened and read it. Then he walked into the kitchen and poured a glass of gin or vodka. There was plenty of both.

I met him in the hallway where he grabbed and hugged me. He was a big man, and I thought my ribs would break.

That was the only hug I can remember from him.

He opened his wallet and gave me two twenty-dollar bills. Then he picked up his suitcase, walked out the door, and drove away.

My conscious mind ran frantic scenarios trying to figure out what happened and what would happen.

But the primitive, instinctive part of me wept.

This was my home, and this was family.

I was connected, but I no longer belonged.

I was the outlier, and so were they.

Connecting alone is not belonging.

When was the last time you were connected to a person or a group, but felt like an outlier? How did you do that dance?

Of course, not all connections need to be at a belonging level. But for everyone, belonging is instinctively necessary.

Who do you know that “has your back,” who is there for you and you for them?

That is a belonging.

Belonging is the connection fused by trust. It is fueled by sincere caring and love.

Belonging does not require trusting everything in the relationship.

“You can’t trust anybody with everything, but you can trust everybody with something.”

Belonging has reasonable trust expectations.

However, belonging can wane when there is lack of integrity, breaches of loyalty, and excessive self-interest.

Belonging is a mutually embraced covenant of trust.

Today’s excessive individualism blunts belonging.

Belonging requires putting self aside at times.

Who in your life personifies that?

I know my parents loved me, but I could not trust their commitment to me.

I loved them but did not trust them, and I desperately wanted both.

A rich belonging mixes love and trust.

They were good people, but they lost trust in themselves.

And that is the essence of belonging: loving, and trusting.

One day in high school my friend was short one dime to buy an ice cream cone. I gave him a dime and forgot about it.

However, the next morning on my desk was a dime.

The message from him was clear.

I care about you and I care about integrity.

After decades he is the same.

We belong.

What is the cost of a waning of belonging?

Look at national statistics revealing loneliness, unhappiness, and suicide.

Ignoring the need to belong in exchange for no-strings relationships and freedom from commitments is a bad bargain.

Life is a balance, and choices have consequences.

Of course, connections can be driven by unhealthy attachment needs or selfish transactions.

Most often the waning of belonging is a protection for some excessive self-interest.

It is the inability to care as much about another as oneself.

It is the lack of empathy.

Can you remember the last time you felt really understood?

How did that happen?

I remember a teacher in high school.

She knew my family struggles. She also saw something good in me that called me to her.

One day I came to school late because of a family crisis. I was to give a speech to the student body in the early afternoon.

She put her arm around me, gave me a place to work in her office, and calmed me down.

She encouraged me.

I wrote the speech and gave it within the next half hour.

She sat and smiled at me from the audience with tears in her eyes.

She was always there.

Thank God.

Real belonging is a safe place.

Because of human imperfection there are schisms in the relationship, but they can be temporary.

Character includes forgiveness and patience.

Belonging takes work.

I have temporarily abandoned precious relationships because my ego got injured, or they did not meet my expectations.

The big picture brought me to my senses.

They cared and they were trying and they were human like me.

We could still belong together.

What is great about belonging?

We can speak honestly, be respected when wrong, remembered as time passes, and not cared about because of what we can do.

Promises are kept.

Consistency continues in spite of rifts and disagreements.

We all need a belonging, a safe place.

And we need to be someone else’s safe place.

I often wonder who would want to belong with me.

How safe and loving am I?

How tolerant and forgiving am I?

Being alone in my early years taught me to treasure a belonging.

My loved ones cared, but their belonging had waned.

My mother and I returned to belonging.

My stepdad and I did not.

The waning of belonging can be dangerous.

Life is not about running away but running toward.

I am glad my fear did not stop my quest to belong.

A gorilla taught me how to overcome the fear of losing a belonging.

At a gorilla reserve an attendant saved the life of a baby gorilla who grew into a 400-pound silverback.

They were together for over 25 years.

One day the gorilla began to hug the man constantly and follow him everywhere.

This behavior increased and frightened the staff.

What was happening?

The attendant soon reported that he had early-stage dementia.

It progressed.

As it worsened, the gorilla’s hugs lasted longer.

The staff witnessed a primitive empathy.

Finally, the attendant had to retire.

The staff witnessed the final goodbye.

Somehow the gorilla knew it was a forever goodbye.

The hug went on for over 15 minutes.

Finally, he released his beloved man who slowly walked away.

For a few weeks, the gorilla ate little.

He just sat and stared.

Attendants at times saw tears, which was highly unusual.

Time passed and the grieving diminished.

Life went on.

Everyone had witnessed the love of belonging, its cost, and its merciful recovery.

Healthy love can even survive absence.

My stepdad died in his fifties.

I stood alone over his grave with a myriad of feelings.

I had just learned from his mother and siblings about the life he never spoke of.

He flew a bomber over Germany many times in World War II.

Sometimes his crewmen were killed almost in his lap.

The next day he would fly again.

No one spoke of PTSD back then.

It was shell shock.

You were expected to shake it off and keep going.

He did.

I had not known nor could I understand until I suffered my own traumas.

Empathy heals.

Belonging is precious.