What’s belonging got to do with it?
If you invest in one thing this summer, let it be community.
A few weeks ago I was taking an evening ‘post-too-many-slices of pizza’ walk through Lisbon’s cobblestone streets with a couple of friends. It was one of those Friday nights where we didn’t have a set plan, so we were just meandering enjoying the golden hour light.
We came upon a courtyard surrounding an old church in Sao Bento. Lights and paper tinsel threaded through the tree branches above, picnic tables and benches were laid out across the middle of the yard, and makeshift stalls selling pork sandwiches and cold beers lined the edges.
There were clusters of families and teenagers in scout uniforms running through the tables, flirting, selling pastries. Young couples came up the stairs, waving and joining friends, showing off new babies, saving room on benches for those still on their way to celebrate ‘Festas’, where Lisbon celebrates it’s Saint Anthony throughout June. They all looked local, so as three black English speaking women, we were conspicuously the odd ones out.
As we sat in our picnic chairs drinking kombucha and people watching, I felt somewhat envious for the deep sense of belonging I imagined these people felt. I was born in Zimbabwe, but moved at a young age to the UK, lived in London for about 15 years, did a stint in Johannesburg for a couple of years and have now lived in Dubai for the past year and a half - it’s difficult for me to name a specific physical place that I feel that depth of belonging.
A week later, I was in the Algarve to meet some girlfriends from London at the Portugal edition of Afronation. Close to 50,000 people had descended on the small city of Portimao from across the Black diaspora in the US and Europe as well as some African countries.
I finally got to see Burna live, but also one of my faves Sauti Sol from Kenya. Little Simz vibe was so London and so immaculate she made me feel nostalgic about being young in London. I was one of the thousands of people packed around the Amapiano stage to see Uncle Waffles instead of seeing 50 Cent on the main stage. I bumped into friends I’d known in Joburg and others I’d met years before in Nairobi. I saw Zimbabwean flags wrapped around the waists of women who looked like my cousins, and made new friends in the queue for jollof.
Afronation reminded me that belonging doesn’t have to be physical spaces. For me it’s most often found in transient spaces. In sought out spaces. Created spaces. Spaces that mean different things to different people, but we’re all showing up to celebrate and enjoy the places where our lives intersect.
Spaces that remind me, I’m not alone in my love of amapiano but also afrobeats, of London rap but also Kenyan boy bands. I’m not alone in my desire for freedom, pleasure, creative expression. I’m not alone in my choices. I’m not alone in wanting the kind of life I want.
So it’s funny that I almost didn’t go.
I don’t love a crowd, particularly a hype one. Once you added in the flights, the AirBnB, the outfits, the drinks, the food - it was an expensive few days. The Portugal one I’d heard skews young. There were many reasons not to. There always are.
Sometimes not belonging feels so familiar that we don’t give ourselves the opportunity to receive it by not showing up or not seeking it out because we’re letting our fears of rejection and abandonment keep us out of community.
Belonging, and this feeling of not having it, has been coming up a lot in my coaching sessions with clients these past few weeks. As people start to get clear on the direction they want their life to move towards, what can often start bubbling through is realising how disconnected we are from people living that way.
Particularly for those of us who don’t live where we were born, or even if we do, perhaps feel a bit different or want something different from those around us or are committing to a courageous shift in a part of our lives, community can be the difference between living the lives we want to, or not.
I ended up choosing to go to Afronation to create new memories with old friends, but was surprised by how much the crowd and collective experience triggered new ideas, insights, inspiration and intentions for me in areas of my life that I’m currently transforming.
Since I started coaching, I invested in becoming part of a community with other coaches who share similar beliefs and methodologies to those that I practise. For my brother and his girlfriend it was going to a festival this summer in Wales for people who also love trail running to inspire them to keep up their running practise. A friend of mine went to Edinburgh Fringe Festival recently to be around other aspiring performers. Another friend recently started volunteering as a safety host at play parties in London for people of colour to affirm her vision of sexual liberation for herself and other black women. For another friend, it’s finding a CrossFit box everywhere she travels.
Community has to be cultivated, created, engaged with, shown up for, invested in.
Even when it’s easier not to.
Journal prompts
What collective spaces exist that are celebrations or supportive spaces of a part of your identity?
What are some ways big or small that you could invest more presence and energy in one or some of them for the remainder of this year?
If you could create a collective space that doesn’t currently exist for you, what would that it be like?