Belonging
“How can we ever know the difference we make to the soul of the earth?”
– John O’Donohue
“…concealed beneath familiarity and silence, the earth holds back and it never occurs to us to wonder how the earth sees us. Is it not possible that a place could have a huge affection for those who dwell there? Could it be possible that a landscape might have a deep friendship with you? That it could sense your presence and feel the care you extend towards it? ”
Have you ever had a feeling of nostalgia in a place you’ve never been before?
A kind of deja vu of the heart.
It goes beyond the logical mind - it’s felt.
Deep in the bones.
The first time I came to the west of Ireland I had that feeling, specifically in Connemara. It was almost like the land was happy to have me back. I had never been there before, but the first time I stood there didn’t feel like the first time. I’ve only had that feeling once before: in Denmark, where my maternal ancestors are from. That was nearly a homecoming - I knew for a fact it was my home. Ireland is different, it’s not something I know in my logical brain, it’s something I feel in my bones. A special kind of magic.
When I read that quote by John, I had to close the book and just savour those words, that sentiment. What a beautiful thought. The way we feel in nature, towards nature, is not one-sided.
I don’t know if I have any blood ties to Ireland, but everything about this place speaks to me: the landscape, the wild, untouched nature, the weather (the rain and the cold too - very shocking, I know).
Our ancestry isn’t only where our hereditary lineage can be traced back to, I think the spiritual anchors we have to places are just as strong - the ones that span across a much longer journey than just one lifetime. The feeling of belonging is just that: a feeling. But that’s it then: what does it really mean to belong?
Think of yourself and feel how you belong so deeply on the earth and how you are a tower of longing in which nature rises up and comes to voice. We are the children of the clay who have been released so that the Earth may dance in the light.
– John O'Donohue, Eternal Echoes
I’ve lived in a couple countries and changed address many times in my life, so it’s a word I’ve thought a lot about. Not long ago, I would have measured belonging in community, friends who live nearby, how closely I identify with the culture - never considering the concept of belonging to the land or within myself.
I like the idea that belonging is really to be longing. “This Great Belonging is our belonging to nature, to soul, and to the divine ground. To belong in this way, we must be able to ‘be longing;’ we must drop ourselves into the ocean of longing in our hearts.” (Salmon in the Spring: The Ecology of Celtic Spirituality)
Be the one that observes the longing.
Be in the body. Be present.
And beyond our personal experience and the deep diving within to connect with our true selves, there is the equally important task of connection with something bigger, something outside of ourselves. We are wired for connection, we are social beings, we are designed to be among community, but in our modern lives we have lost much of this, and with that: our bigger connection to nature and the Earth. Our society has been driven by the individualist mindset for thousands of years, and there are many answers we won’t find by continuing to live in a solitary world of our own experiences, lost in a feedback loop. Community is part of the fabric of nature, this is how we feel supported outside of ourselves, a mutual exchange is such an important part of feeling whole.
On the journey to feeling whole, can we cultivate depth by rooting in personal experience and feeling, rather than a conceptual understanding?
What about a sense of belonging to nature? Not just a feeling of responsibility, but how nature can shape who we are… if we’re prepared to let her.
Daring to dig deep.
Certain places help us to do this. These places have lessons to teach us:
Untamed, remote landscapes ask us if we can trust ourselves - they reflect how safe we feel in our own bodies.
Wild, cold waters invite us to soften in the face of discomfort.
Changeable weather asks us to release attachment, and live in the present.
Long, dark winters call on us to turn inward, lean in, and not turn away.
…Ireland has these things in spades.
Deeply moving words from the ever inspiring Sez Kristiansen: “And ultimately, what we observe, in return, observes us… Just as we revisit places we love, we meat-out that place with our love and attention. We are offered gifts in return for our presence. But what we often forget is that those places too, put flesh on our bones and we are loved by them in return. This is no different from our psychological landscape. The thoughts, beliefs, concepts, and emotions that we visit most often are what make life either a dire struggle or a lighthearted curiosity.”
And she asks… What kind of Land is creating you? What in the external world is reflecting an internal belief you have about yourself?
When I think of being shaped by the land, I think of the Hawthorn, scrawled into the horizon by unrelenting winds.
Windswept! (Páirc Láir, An Spidéal) by Aine Ui Ghradaigh
Many of us are coming into a time where we are aching for a feeling of belonging. Whether you approach the matter of belonging outwardly: to other, to nature, to community, to land; or inwardly - to the self, both are essential, both are needed, and no matter which you approach first, both meet in the middle: in the feeling and sensing center of our being - in the heartspace (more on that and a plant ally later.)
I met Lindsay when I attended one of her workshops where she made delicious food from foraged plants. At this intimate dinner, a small group of us shared a feast and learned from her deep wealth of knowledge, lit by the warmth of her spirit. I was surprised to find she’s also an American living here and studying Herbalism (what are the odds?) - I didn’t expect to meet a soul friend that day and I’m so grateful that we somehow ended up in the same little corner of Ireland, a short drive apart. She is one of my dearest friends.
As someone who has also moved around her fair share (and has also recently made the west of Ireland her home) I was curious what she thought of the concept of belonging…
What does belonging mean to you?
I think one of the foundations of belonging is the way you feel when you are rooted to a place. For me, that feeling of being rooted is connected to a place (or places) in nature, near where I live. Feeling like I belong, first comes from a relationship with the land. I don’t believe that belonging is something that happens outside of us and it is not something that someone else can bestow us. It comes from within. I think the second aspect of belonging comes from the relationship you have with yourself. In order to claim belonging, you need to know that you are worthy of doing so and I believe you find that worthiness from a deep, never ending, compassionate, and inquisitive relationship with yourself.
Where do you feel belonging in the body?
I feel belonging in my bones. There is a strong and steady, unwavering quality to the feeling of belonging for me. It goes deep into the marrow.
Who or what has taught you the most about belonging?
I think that traveling has taught me the most about belonging. It’s in going to new places that you begin to get a feel for what kind of land calls to you, and as I said before, I think the foundation of belonging is your relationship to the land your on.
What would your advice be for those looking for a sense of belonging?
Go outside. Find the places that call to your soul and go there and sit for a while and be intentional and pay attention. Pay attention to how you feel when you are there. Pay attention to what you notice. Pay attention to what you feel or what thoughts you have. Then begin to give yourself permission to belong to that place. Allow yourself to speak out loud, “I belong here!” How does it feel when you say that? Do you feel it to be true? If it doesn’t, go somewhere else and do this all again. You will find the place where your feel alive. You will find the place where you give yourself permission to belong.
Is there a plant that represents belonging for you?
Dandelion is the plant that most makes me think of belonging. Dandelion has deep, strong roots so it holds on tight to where it currently belongs…but it also has those fairy-like seeds that float freely on the wind and settle wherever and become the next new place that dandelion will belong. I think dandelion is a beautiful metaphor for being rooted enough to belong wherever you are and also for being free enough to belong anywhere.
Is there a particular plant ally that has helped you in a way you didn’t expect?
My unexpected plant ally is Rose (but it isn’t really all that unexpected when I think about it). I’ve always kind of hated roses. I didn’t really like the way the smelled and I hated the way they tasted, rose flavored anything was . But as is the way with most things that I am initially repelled by, I’ve come to understand there was something in me that wasn’t yet ready to receive the deep wisdom that Rose has to share with me. When I was choosing my first 12 plants to do for my Materia medica I left one space for a plant that wanted to work with me to “show itself.” The night I made that decision, I had a dream of a friend in America who took me to a herbalism workshop with a mutual friend and as I was waiting to go inside, I was captivated by all the roses growing around her cottage. When I woke up, I couldn’t believe that roses were the plant that came to me. I hated roses, after all. But I trusted that they came through for a reason and have had the most beautiful unfolding relationship with roses since.
Is there a song or a book that comes to mind when you think of belonging?
“May you listen to your longing to be free.
May the frames of your belonging be generous enough for your dreams.
My you arise each day with a voice of blessing whispering in your heart.
May you find a harmony between your soul and your life.
May the sanctuary of your soul never become haunted.
May you know the eternal longing that lives at the heart of time.
May there be kindness in your gaze when you look within.
May you never place walls between the light and yourself.
May you allow the wild beauty of the invisible world to gather you, mind you, and embrace you in belonging.”
-John O’Donohue
In addition to being a lovely human, Lindsay organises workshops in the Westport and Mayo area focusing on herbs, foraging, cooking and more. She also creates salves and other herbal products which can be found in PAX Wholefoods in Westport.
“Because true belonging only happens when we present our authentic, imperfect selves to the world, our sense of belonging can never be greater than our level of self-acceptance.”
– Brené Brown, Daring Greatly
In the body
Where do we feel belonging? For me, it is in the heart, the heart is home. The heart is our energetic and spiritual sensing organ, the feeling center of our being, where our intuition lives, and belonging is a deep knowing that can really only come from that place.
This past month I practiced Thoracic Heart Opener as a way to contemplate belonging. Every evening I rolled out my mat and piled up all of my lovely props to sit in stillness in this pose.
What does Thoracic Heart Opener teach us?
Consider the heart energy, feel the heartspace. The front of the heart is often associated with a giving energy, and the back a receiving. Is there a difference between how both sides feel? Maybe the space feels ambiguous at first, maybe it’s difficult to grasp where it is. But spending time with it, you’ll feel the subtle energies held there, especially while in this pose.
“My voice became a tool
and lost its silence.
My body became a conduit of self-love
and lost its abuse.
My mind became still
and lost its dominance.
My heart became a home
and lost its longing.
This is how we live, awake.”
If the head is unsupported and allowed to rest backward, the feeling of vulnerability and exposure around the throat area can be intense. We don’t expose ourselves in this way very often, instinctually this is a delicate part of our bodies, something we would always be looking to protect; a very narrow channel, a small, compact space where the energy from the rest of the body must flow through.
Muscles connecting to the shoulders and neck span the pectoralis (front chest) which are often tight (from long periods spent at a desk, for example), especially if the arms are extended forward and unsupported at the elbow (using a mouse etc.). The muscles at the front of the chest shorten over time from rounded shoulders and poor posture, this can feel like tightness in the chest. The shoulders and neck are a very common place to hold tension, but the front chest is often overlooked when it comes to stretching. Lying back this way, arms open, feels like surrender - a pose primed for observing feelings, contemplating belonging within the body.
Yinfusion: Hawthorn
When I think of the heart, when I think of belonging, I think of Hawthorn. What a generous tree, steeped in lore, plentiful all over Ireland – a powerful medicine.
Yinfusions are what I have affectionately named the combination of pairing yin yoga with a plant ally. This might be drinking an infusion before a practice, taking a few drops of a tincture or anointing the body with an infused oil. Through this practice, we receive the support and insight from a plant to deepen our experience in the pose. Just as yin helps us shift energy and work deeply, plants can help us do the same. Plants are as much physical medicines as they are energetic ones.
I once read Hawthorn described as the “fierce & gentle protectress of the heart.” A tree feared, honoured and respected for thousands of years. She has a strong affinity for the heart, with a long list of medicinal benefits but also strong energetic and spiritual ones. She also has roots deep in Ireland. In fact, the construction of a road was diverted to avoid cutting down a lone Hawthorn tree, which are understood to be the gateway to otherworldly places.
A careful giver, Hawthorn offers so much - while still having the necessary thorns, maybe teaching us it’s ok to have sharp edges when we need them. Heart energy is just as much about giving as it is receiving, Hawthorn can help to keep us open while also giving us healthy boundaries which keep us aligned. “Through feeding the soul and filling the hollow places inside, Hawthorn strengthens the beauty that lies within, enabling the true essence of the soul to shine through and guide the direction of life.” (Evolutionary Herbalism, Materia Medica)
A powerful ally to have when learning to observe the self, and to just be longing.
Some reading on the subject of belonging and connection with nature: (if you can, support local bookshops!)
Eternal Echoes, John O’Donohue
If Women Rose Rooted, Sharon Blackie
Daring Greatly, Brené Brown
Braiding Sweetgrass, Robin Wall Kimermer
Listen to the Land Speak, Manchan Magan
The House of Belonging, David Whyte
Podcast: Belonging with Becca Piastrelli on Spotify
