The art of relocating - Part I - Being who we are.

I know... some of you will not see relocating as an "art". Perhaps viewing it more of an extremely daunting prospect, a discomfort to be avoided, or just something that other people do. Particularly, of course if it involves not a mere change of post code, but a move that crosses time zones and international date lines. We benefit from a built-in bias around the beauty of staying put. Home is where our friends are, or the kids live, or the climate suits. It's where we "belong".

The sensation of true belonging seems accessible enough to us all; I think we all have some kind of radar tuned to the feeling, to varying degrees. It requires almost no discernable effort, we either sense we are welcome, or we are not. When we move away from home, we generally carry our "belongings" with us. Curious that we call them by that name; as if they are a kind of suitcase-based, emotional visa with which to cross borders. Full of clothes and peace of mind. Yet true belonging is not portable, it doesn't come pocket-sized, nor indeed is it something we can determine or negotiate externally, or with other people's input. We don't start pretending to like the things we really dislike, just to socially "play ball". Belonging is something that we carry in our hearts. It is finding the sacred nature of truly being an essential part of something that is greater than the sum of its parts. Belonging is a grand and primal desire, and one that we would not immediately put belonging on the checklist of "Things I need to do after relocating". No. We have another technique for that. It's called "Fitting in".

I have only recently begun to consider 'belonging' and 'fitting in' as fairly polar opposites, and it took some thought for me to get there. I used to think that the two words were interchangeable, but they are really not. I mentioned the concept of belonging was "primal" and so it jolly well is. So much so, that we will do almost anything to get there. We will seek the approval of new neighbours and the people we meet. We will "fit in" to their perceived norms and ways of being and doing. We yearn that much, for validation and a stamp of approval. We have all met our partner's parents and found oursleves being pulled toward opinions and standpoints that our mere common sense would never sanction... But this is not true belonging. Fitting in is a hollow substitute. It is actually a barrier to true belonging. It comes as the result of us presenting an inauthentic self. Our social chameleon self. You know exactly what I mean. Trying to fit in is exhausting. Belonging, is being accepted for being you. Fitting in on the other hand, is being accepted because you become what others want you to be. One fills you up, the other leaves you feeling empty. It shapes how we show up in the world and how we show up for ourselves.

When we trade belonging for fitting in, we don't just lose the chance to connect, we start to lose pieces of oursleves. Here is the mantra - "You cannot truly belong anywhere unless you first belong to yourself". It will sound a little "self-helpy", but I promise you it is especially relevant to moving countries and braving the wilderness of being somewhere new.

Our move to France, now well into its thrid year, has tested us greatly in this respect. We have made many mini-moves within France, in our search for the right property and the constriuction of a business model that matches that property to our vision. At each stop, we encountered colourful and challenging characters - all of whom were more than happy to show us who they were and what beautiful or truly ugly values they represented, as if standing in front of two doors, one marked "True belonging" and the other "Fitting in".

Let me give you an example from my work life, that pre-dates by way too many years, my understanding of the basics of belonging. I was being interviewed for a same industry / different company kind of career move. It was stupifying, easy money. The head honcho was very typical of the shame-based culture of fast financial markets. I was a bit behind for the appointment, from nonsensical transport glitches, and the first words out of his mouth were that I was late, quickly followed by the quip "But at least you're not black." It was a devastating moment of conscience vs popularity. Belonging vs fitting in. True belonging would have been walking away, right there, right then. Fitting in was staying for the interview, beacause my continued presence at the other side of his desk, was an act signing up for his despicable racism. I didn't get the job.

Perhaps it is the 'longing' part of the word belonging that governs us so harshly. It is hard wired to our deep need for connection and a permanent feature of our inner landscapes. It's tough not to walk the path of simply fitting in. Sometimes, belonging to ourselves, means we have to stand alone. To stop pretending that we love parties, so as not to appear boring. To stop pretending we like this book or that politician, just to fit in to the group dynamic. That is when belonging feels like home. Belonging somewhere new, can feel warm and fuzzy, but sometimes, it needs to mean standing alone, and that is the part we don't like to talk about, because it actually means risking the disconnection that we came to France appearing to need so desperately. It is an uncomfortable paradox.

Vanessa and I are now settled in a corner of South West France that appeals on every level. We gathered enough knowledge and trust in each other, to know that we needed to show up as oursleves and see if a seat for us was at the table (or not) based on who were are. Imperfect, underfinanced, and a little worried by our dependability on other people. We have not been afraid to retreat to the wilderness of just being the two of us, if fitting in was the only other option.

If you are considering a move to Europe, or anywhere that is not where you are currently at, don't be put off by the fear of not feeling like you belong, as long as you are determined to show up as you. It is incredibly freeing to make our own maps and be the authors of our own stories. Daunting also, but we have a great tool in simple "trust". We need to trust oursleves to navigate that great tension - the fine line between the ease of fitting in by selling out, and the vulnerability that is required to stand on our own and brave that wilderness. The enemy within? - "I think I'll just try to fit in. That's easier."

Oh... and don't even think that you are going to lose contact with your friends by moving somewhere more challenging. They will be all over you for an invite to France or Italy or Spain, or wherever you hang your chapeau. They will be looking closely for that sense of belonging. That feeling that you trust yourself enough, and are sufficiently vulnerable to trust others. They will want that for themselves, as well as for you.

Vanessa and I really feel we belong here. It took some trust, it took some courage, and weirdly, although we are genuinely delighted with our choice of this part of France, we really feel we could belong pretty much anywhere.

You see, true belonging - the real Château Margaux of belonging - is not a passive act. It’s not the belonging that comes with joining a book club or a gym. It’s not fitting in or pretending or avoiding 'rocking the boat'. It is not selling out our consciences because that kind of popularity and social acceptance is safer. It’s a practice that requires us to be vulnerable, get uncomfortable and learn how to be present with people — without sacrificing or changing who we really are.

In the immortal words of Maya Angleou, "The price is high. The reward is great".