Where do we belong?

“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.”  Brene Brown

I love my neighbourhood.

There is a simple reason for this. I am connected to the neighbourhood through the people, and to the community. They know me and I know them. After almost 14 years living in the same place, I have developed a vast network of connections and acquaintances.

These are people who I say “Hi” to and have brief conversations with, even though I may not know their names. It is the independent shop owners who recognize me when I come to support local and who ask after my family and me theirs.

My neighbourhood is a village nestled in a sprawling metropolis. Likely one of the shortest main arteries in the city, it is a true village. The word, village, comes from the French, reflecting a group of houses in an area. We know what it means to live in a community, in a village even though we might not be completely conscious of it.

My daily connections to the village are renewed daily through my morning walks with my dog. I meet people. I stop and talk. Over the years, this network of connections that has sustained me during the past 15 or 16 months has been palpable.

Neighbourhoods Contain Us

Researchers from various sources looking at the effect of the pandemic and overall general well-being have found that knowing one’s neighbours, can be beneficial to people’s health and wellbeing, and to communities as a whole.

Social bonds, in fact, are the “strongest predictor” of a long, healthy life, according to Montreal-based psychologist Susan Pinker. “We are social animals, and we need to belong,” states Susan Pinker, whose book The Village Effect: Why Face-to-Face Contact Matters came out in 2014. “It’s as important to our biological survival as other needs like eating, drinking and sleeping. Loneliness and social isolation leave a special mark, an imprint, on every cell of our bodies.” A large part of this sense of belonging and of wellness comes from the feeling that our neighbours can be trusted and that we feel safe in the area around us.

This is not a new story. As far back as 1999, a study measured the connection between the sense of belonging to a neighbourhood and health and well-being in older women (among 9445 women aged 73–78). A better sense of neighbourhood was associated with better physical and mental health, lower stress, better social support and being physically active. Women who had lived longer at their present address had a better sense of belonging to their neighbourhood, as did women living in non-urban areas and who were better able to manage their income. If this the case, then why do not we practice it?

In Toronto, the neighbour-to-neighbour connection is more of a rarity than the norm. A first-of-its-kind survey released in November 2018, by the Toronto Foundation, which explores the relationships of Toronto residents, reveals 66 percent of people report only knowing a few or none of their neighbours. It’s a situation researchers say is increasingly common across North America, but that doesn’t mean it’s a good thing.

Personal Story of Run in with the Neighbourhood

So it was a shock to have an encounter that was the antithesis of the community that I have come to know.

I was feeling particularly vulnerable and distracted on my evening walk with my miniature schnauzer.  If I had been more present, I might have picked up the signs and avoided the encounter. However, I was on the phone with my vet listening to the medical reports for one of my 12-year old cats who was losing her balance and experiencing a progressively weakening backend. It was about 8 pm, the last walk of the day before retiring for the night.  My left hand had the phone to my ear. My right hand held on to Mina’s extendable leash.  She was sniffing her favourite places.

In the midst of the call, Mina takes a small poop on a lawn. Oh crap. The juggling of the phone, a bag the leash and a dog who wants to move on to the next smell was a challenge.  I put the leash between my legs and clenched the phone between my ear and my shoulder to get a poop bag from a Peruvian woven sack that I use for all things related to Mina.  I bend down to pick up the small turd nestled in an all-dirt hole on the lawn.

“Please do not let your dog pee on my lawn.”  I hear a man’s voice.
The medicine should be order viagra online taken minimum one hour before you intent to love making. We are living in a highly advanced era where things are supposed to simple, easy, straight forward and not anything less than perfect. generic cialis online buying that The biological clock has a order viagra online powerful influence on metabolism and appetite. But what consumers seem to forget viagra properien is that there are 2 different opinions, 2 different ways that the child processes information.
I look up to see the owner of the house, a tall thin older white man on his 3-million-dollar front porch loomed over me. “She is not peeing” I reply “and I have a bag.” which I show him, “I have picked it up.” A few more words were exchanged ending in “Keep your dog off my lawn!”  Those were his parting words as he walked back into his house.  I am stunned and shaken.  The safety that I had felt in my neighbourhood was shattered. Then after a few minutes, I was fuming.

To be clear, this man has every right to take care of his property and his lawn as he sees fit and put the neighbourhood on notice to keep the dogs off the lawn. Many neighbours do that. On the daily journey through the neighbourhood, many homeowners plunk a small sign at the edge of lawns asking dog owners to be respectful. There was no sign on the lawn. No notice to dog owners.  Instead of taking responsibility for his lawn and his connection, he took the opportunity to take his anger and bitterness at whatever and lash out at an unsuspecting person – me.

We live in Psyche

We live in psyche and not the other way around. Jung’s conception of psyche reflections is the totality of psychic processes; conscious as well as unconscious.  Psyche is all around us and even in this encounter – light and the dark. If it were a dream what could this encounter tell us about the psyche? As it turns out, we can tell a lot.

Dogs are social animals. Naturally, they orient themselves to groups and for the most part, they are gregarious and friendly. It is not surprising then that my dog has been a vehicle for connection with and to the neighbourhood. As a reflection of instinctual energy, dogs reflect an aspect of the psyche that is spontaneous, friendly, loyal, the natural flow of feelings, and companionship. In mythology, the dog has been thought to be a guide to the hidden side of life. With a keen sense of smell, they can sniff out what humans can’t. The instincts do what they do because that is what they do.

Symbolically, the lawn is the outward showing part of the psyche. It is like the persona. It is what we show the world and to the neighbourhood. It is fascinating the care or not that people put into their lawns. Our concern or lack of concern for what our lawn looks like might be like the persona, concern about what the neighbours think or do not think about our character. Are we seen in a good light? Do we risk judgement? Are we trying to keep up appearances?

What can we learn?

Bringing it all together, we could surmise an image of white masculine energy hauled up in his defences keeping the community and the natural flow of feelings at bay.

What I learned is that communities and the people that I connect to while walking my dog have helped me feel connected and not so alone. We all have a part to play by taking responsibility for the energy that we put into the world. We have a choice. We can emotionally dump and unleash our anger, resentment or bitterness on our neighbours, or we can be kind and considerate. The end result might be the same but at least with the latter there is the possibility of a win-win situation and meeting a new friend.

An elderly artist friend writes on the sidewalks with her brightly coloured chalk, “Be a nice human.”

Copyright Christina Becker
July 2021
Have you found value here? Have you been inspired or moved?  Please consider sharing the post on your social media networks by using the buttons below.

I love to hear your comments and ideas. Use the comments below or send me an email.