Mom holding me, my sister, Carol, and brother, Eric (Rick)
What’s the first thing you remember mattering to you? Not your first memory, yet what has left a lasting impression that even today, we can adeptly travel back through the ethers of time to experience. Our vivid and palpable memories infused with unforgettable sensations still vibrant and alive within our bodies.
Marie Shriver writes about this in her Sunday Paper, For A Life Above The Noise. Marie invited a friend over for dinner and he posed this fascinating question to her. It’s one that had her feeling a bit stumped for a moment until she dropped within to inquire.
As I closed my eyes and felt into the question Maria was posed, what arose within me is my awareness of belonging within my family. A sense of safety, welcoming the full expression of myself, where I could shine brightly and was encouraged to take up as much space as I needed to. An insatiable curiosity, endless questions and cultivating an ability to laugh whole heartedly were attended to and cultivated within my family home. Often it resembled an oasis sheltered from the storms of life that could be rattling our doors. Recalling how comforted and cozy I felt when my dad tucked me into bed at night. Most especially when the temperatures were bitter and a stout wind was gusting and creating a whistling sound outside my frosty windows. I’d wiggle and snuggle down within layers of cozy blankets, only my face with a favorite stuffed animal I called my pal, peeking out. My dad would create an opportunity to remind me of how fortunate we were to not be sleeping on a park bench. Making it clear that for some that was exactly where they would be. He was instilling within me an ability to try to imagine even as a wee one what life might look and feel like for someone other than myself.
Some aspects of our lives that mattered may shape shift and change as that is to be expected and even anticipated. Yet, this question of what is the first thing I remember mattering to me, has never shifted in position. Marie’s friend John, who asked her the question shared, “There’s such freedom in discovering what matters. It brings joy. And who doesn’t want to experience a deeper level of joy?” My formative years were teeming with an abundance of the many nurturing ingredients longed and hoped for within a childhood. I was witnessing and observing my growth and rising, only to have it abruptly rupture and bleed out painfully at age sixteen upon my parent’s very unexpected divorce.
Brené Brown shares, “True belonging is the spiritual practice of believing in and belonging to yourself so deeply that you can share your most authentic self with the world and find sacredness in both being a part of something and standing alone in the wildnesses. True belonging doesn’t require you to change who you are; it requires you to be who you are.” Who I was and am becoming are deeply rooted in what matters most to me, an unshakeable sense and belief in belonging. I leaned into it with all my might during my first wilderness experience as a teen and today more than five decades later.
My parents in the center of the photo, with their dear friends, the Rhodins, sitting beside them. This was the joy I grew up with.
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