I don't know if I belong here

Getting curious about my emotions revealed much more

I still remember a particular day of my orientation month of medical residency. It was over 27 years ago (!!) and much of that month was a blur. New hospital, new responsibilities, facing the daunting first nights of call to deliver babies (yikes!) and admit patients from the ER in crisis—figuring out how to learn how to be a physician and operate like I knew how to be one at the same time!

But there was one moment that stands out crystal clear for me. Our class of 10 interns, in an exercise that divided us. We were asked to stand on an imaginary line. The line was a continuum of conception of a baby to delivery of that baby. And we were asked to stand where we believed it felt right to us that termination of that pregnancy could occur.

Now, I won’t get into the politics of when life starts, freedom of a woman’s body, all of that, right here. But suffice it to say, it was the first time I had thought so in depth of how to challenge my thoughts on the ethics of this hot topic while also realizing how vastly different ten people’s decisions could be.

I remember all ten of us choosing points on the line and while a couple chose defiantly and swiftly, most of us chose, then moved, then chose again, all the while silently challenging our own ethics and logic in the moment. (BTW, the point was never to stir a debate on bodily autonomy (although it did bring it up!) but instead, to show us that no matter where we were on that line personally, we had a professional obligation to give unbiased advice to our pregnant patients.)

As we stood on that line, we saw where we all chose and how different we were. It divided us. And even though in this case, it was not a permanent division, for some moments there, you felt more aligned with those close to you and more separate from others. Not unlike the politics of this country (the United States) right now.

But my writing today is not to debate where in the country I stand (although I am happy to talk about that anytime with any of you, not as a source of debate, but meaning I am not trying to hide my leanings) Today, I am reflecting on why this division is so damaging beyond the political ramifications.

You see, on that day as my classmates and I stood on that line, we were divided by ideology. But something bigger happened in my heart that is also happening for me in these interesting and despairing years here in the US.

The more I saw myself as thinking differently than another, the less a sense of belonging I felt to the group as a whole.

It has been a challenging several years in the US, no matter what side you are on. And last week, our Supreme Court handed down a decision that really tested me to my core. It rang so untrue for me that I saw the country on a similar metaphorical line. And I felt incredibly isolated on the point I stood.

The reason I felt a height of despair was not because I was wondering who was right or wrong but instead because I felt like I didn’t belong here.

Any suffering or loss has the capacity to strip us of this fundamental piece of well-being, the feeling that we belong and are part of something bigger. And that is a much deeper wound at its core than the issue at hand

.I am not saying this country does not have deep wounds and issues to resolve. (That would take more than one week’s musing to unlayer!) What I am saying is that we are not talking about the deeper wounds underneath.

This wound of asking yourself if you don’t agree with the highest branches of this country’s decisions, do you feel a part of this bigger whole? Do you belong?

This is what I’ve been asking myself all week. And this is what many of us may be asking even if we don’t realize it.

Of course, we can’t all agree on everything and there have been plenty of times the President or government made decisions I fundamentally disagreed with. But I have never felt like this. Never. Like every decision was an assault on the core of who I am. I never felt such a sense that I didn’t belong here as I have in these last several years.

I have felt angry, frustrated and downright scared over these years. And all of those challenging emotions were what I managed as they arose. But last week, I felt such a heaviness in my heart that I knew it was time to pause and get more curious. What lay underneath all of this? Why did this hurt so much? And that’s when I recognized that feeling of not belonging.

All of us will have different things laying underneath our challenging emotions at any one moment. Yours may be different right now if you are navigating sadness or fear over a personal loss, a relationship broken or maybe even the political landscape I describe.

But if you can get curious, you may find what the core wound is for you. You get curious by pausing and almost inquiring of your emotions what they are here for. What message do they want you to hear?

For me, this was painful but also very helpful. Once I saw that my core loss was belonging, I knew I could take action.

♡ So, I am connecting with community, especially like-minded community. To remind myself I am not alone.

♡ I am starting to mobilize into action…What can I do today to make my voice heard?

♡ I am opening my heart to my family and others I love. That practically speaking means, reaching out and telling them I love them, being present with them when we are together instead of distracted, sending gratitude to them. All of this keeps my heart open so I can find a sense of belonging again.

I am doing what I can to connect myself to a bigger whole again.

I fear for this country’s future, truly I do. And the bigger question of how I fit in here remains for me to decide. But what I do know is that when I feel separate, I lose a connection to feeling a part of something bigger than myself. And then it’s time to find that again.

How does belonging fit into your sense of well-being? What can you find when you get curious about your challenging emotions? I would love to hear from you as always in the comments. This community is a great sense of belonging for me. And I hope for you, as well. Would love to hear from you! (And hope to see some of you at the workshop on July 27th, details in the header of the email!)