The arrogance of belonging

 For all that has been, Thanks. To all that shall be, YES.

Coach Jane Kerschner & I were batting back & forth the concept of belonging, after she'd wondered how I’d stayed upright in a family hallmarked with such disconnection & apparent fear of relationship.   

Would have been tougher, answering that question a week ago.  But over the weekend, in Elizabeth Gilbert’s wondrous Big Magic, had found a phrase from David Whyte that said it all – it was due to the arrogance of belonging.

 

Where my family struggled with connection & relationship, I wholeheartedly embraced both.  Weird, then, that while my siblings seemed to have a sense of place within our family, I never did.  On the other hand, I had a sense of belonging, if only to myself, that at least some of the others appeared to lack.

“The arrogance of belonging” – daring to feel like you belong simply because you breathe.  That we are all, from birth, entitled to BEING.  Or, as Liz Gilbert puts it, “Believing that you are allowed to be here, and believing that — merely by being here, merely by existing — you are allowed to have a voice and a vision of your own.”

Excuse me if this feels a bit like Whisper Down The Lane  –  Liz says that David Whyte claims,  “Without ‘the arrogance of belonging,’  you will never be able take any creative risks whatsoever. Without it, you will never push yourself out of the suffocating insulation of personal safety, and into the frontiers of the beautiful and the unexpected.”

The way I survived growing up, deeply rooted in a family with such different values, different sense of entitlement, was through knowing that I belonged to a bigger Something. Didn’t know what it was, but never doubted it was out there. 

Yes, it was sad that if felt there wasn’t a place for me within the family, but that’s not so remarkable since the others didn’t seem to feel much of a place either.  But it did lead me to develop a strong affinity & affection for the concept of family, of connection, of relationship.  Something that didn’t need permission or approval from an outside source to BE.

Liz goes deeper into the arrogance of belonging – It’s not about egotism or self-absorption. In a strange way, it’s exactly the opposite; it's a force that will actually take you OUT OF YOURSELF and allow you to engage more fully with the world. Because often what keeps you from living your most creative and adventurous and expressive life IS your self-absorption (your self-doubt, your self-disgust, your self-judgment, your crushing sense of self-protection).

When I read that – the arrogance of being -  something that had stumped me for years clicked into place.  

 

Eons ago, back in 1973, my sister-in-law shared in a letter to Mom her utter & complete dislike of me.  Kerry apparently experienced me as “so rude, when she (me) comes into a room I want to leave it.”   

Not that I had a clue.  She never, by word or look, gave any indication of her animosity.  

It took almost 25 years for me to discover the depth of her feelings.  THAT was a shock & surprise.  But by the time I came across the letter, less than 10 years ago, knew it all too well.  But was still stumped about what so profoundly irked my s-i-l.  

Then, this past weekend, there was the explanation, tucked into the pages of Big Magic.  It was my natural arrogance of belonging, which was present even back in 1973, when I was a mere lass of 21.   

Yes, I can see how that natural, easy sense of belonging – in a family that had little sense of place for themselves & none for me – would be galling, felt as inexcusably rude.  To tweak something Liz writes – it wasn’t that I boasted, “I’m the greatest!” but that I merely said, “I exist.”

That's my answer to Jane, my shout-out to the world ~ my great saving grace, belonging to a family that could have ground me down into nothingness, was being blessed from birth with the arrogance of belonging, an inborn sense which always has, always will invite me to engage with the world, with those around me – including my family, to have a voice & vision of my own while always honoring the voice & vision of others. A beckoning to BE.

I stood standing because I was born the luckiest Lockhart.  Might not have felt a sense of place, but blessed with one of belonging. So blessed, so grateful!

“We feel safest when we go inside ourselves and find home.” 

~ Maya Angelou ~