We All Want to Feel Like We Belong

Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about what it means to belong.

Not just the kind of belonging that comes from being in the right place at the right time, or having your name on a list. I mean the deep kind. The kind that settles in your bones when someone saves you a seat, remembers your story, or hands you a plate without asking what you’ve brought.

It’s the kind of belonging I see in my young students when a new child comes to the school, when someone takes that new student by the hand and says, “come and play with us,” without first asking questions about their background, their family, their beliefs, or analyzing whether they are the “right kind of person”. We could learn a lot from 6 year olds. It’s the same sense of belonging I witnessed on the last day of school when the entire student body high-fived and cheered for one another for completing another school year.

It’s easy to forget how much we all long for that. Especially when life gets busy, messy, and loud. Especially when the world feels disconnected.

But belonging isn’t loud. It’s quiet. It’s the neighbour who stops to talk while walking their dog every morning, the friend who shows up with soup, the circle that opens just a little wider when you walk toward it. It’s being seen, not for what you do, but for who you are. And still being welcomed and valued.

Sometimes I think we believe belonging has to be earned. That we have to prove ourselves worthy of the invitation. But what if it’s the opposite? What if the moment we stop trying to earn it is the moment we realize we already deserve it?

Over the past year, through renovations and reset buttons, through starting a new job in a new school, I’ve been dreaming about creating spaces that feel like that…like home, even if you’ve never been there before. Not polished or perfect. Just real. Honest. Warm. A place where everyone matters. Where everyone belongs.

It’s not about setting a beautiful table, though I do love a good candle and a handmade plate. It’s about what happens around it. The stories. The laughter. The quiet understanding that you don’t have to carry your heavy things alone.

We need more of that in the world. Not more programs. More presence. Not more events or online groups. More connection. With other humans living their own messy, imperfect and busy lives.

And maybe, just maybe, that starts with one table. Then another. And another after that.

I’ve got something coming that’s rooted in all of this. A little seed that’s been growing for years. I’m not quite ready to name it yet. But I promise, when I do, you’ll be invited.

Because if you’re reading this, there’s already a seat here for you.

—

What makes you feel like you belong? I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments, or send me a message if you’d rather share privately. And if you’d like to be part of what’s coming next, let me know. I would love to have you join us.

---