Lately a thought has slowly been gaining prevalence amongst all the other emotions generally clamouring for attention. A feeling that I have tried to shrug off, brush away as irrelevant or just a fleeting emotion. But the more I try to ignore it, the more it keeps popping up.
Time and again I like to take stock of my life. The older I grow the more I realize the fallacy of analyzing life, or even basic emotions. Yet the older we get, the harder it is to get rid of old habits... And introspection is a part of me, which just refuses to let go.
In finding the recipe for happiness, I always underestimated or maybe refused to admit the importance of belonging. We all have our identities tied to our religion, region, our language or our blood ties. But when you are displaced, either by choice or forcibly, your survival depends on your adaptability. Adapting means giving up on some of your old characteristics and blending into a society of your choice.
I have always struggled to belong.... The longing to be at home, to be myself , to be
at ease. We humans are insecure and always feel threatened by change. We like to stress on our difference rather than the commonality, maybe because the differences are what makes us belong to the herd -- our nationality, our religion or language. We are social, we live in groups and being an outsider can be a challenge.
Our desire to belong, to be accepted by our peer, to revel in the strength of similarity is what encourages us to conform to the unsaid laws of uniformity in society.
As I grow older, I have realized that the void of not belonging has been filled with empathy and kindness. Over the years I have accepted that I will be living on the fringe of society, I am too mutated to be accepted in any group or be a member of a herd. So I will be walking alone,secretly always looking for the place that I can say truthfully is home
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