She asked me, “are you a festival-goer?”
I replied, “not as often as I’d prefer”.
Just as I enjoy the solitary space of a buzzy café on a weekend morning, I revel in the atmosphere of a festival, but on one miniscule condition. It must be a festival which is intellectually enriching and one I can engage with curiosity; one that might extend my understanding of the world or offer a different lens through which to view it. One where I can be in the company of my tribe.
Now, I don’t know the people at the festival. I often attend on my own. It is a time to “fill my cup”; to retreat in public and be introspective. Nevertheless, to be among diverse people gathered with a common purpose (or so I’dd like to believe) is deeply gratifying.
Critically, it is this sense of belonging that calls me back, time and time again.
I have been pondering the notion of belonging for a while. In mainstream media and common narratives, belonging is often depicted as being welcomed into a group that is, finding your people, being accepted and included.
Belonging is a fundamental human need. It gives us a sense of connection and of having a place in the world. But belonging is not simply about being surrounded by others. Nor is it necessarily dependent upon familiarity or friendship. Perhaps it is the felt sense that, here, something of who we are is recognised; that our presence makes sense in this particular space.
What is incredibly rewarding about my experience of belonging is that it is separate from whether I am in the company of people I know. To be in the midst of this “sea of humanity”, among people who may be like me in some small but meaningful way, and who have also chosen to attend the festival, is what makes the experience exhilarating.
The world may present festival-going as a group adventure: sometimes raucous, but most certainly sociable. For an introvert, my experience is different, and that is fine.
No two experiences will be the same, and yet here we all are, under the same roof and dimmed lights, sharing in discourses about matters that are, in one way or another, important to us.
But belonging is not without its tensions.
Belonging requires some degree of alignment with the norms of a group. There are spoken and unspoken understandings about what is acceptable, what may be questioned and what must remain unquestioned. Yet, in the face of conflicting or contradictory views, does one conform or remain true to oneself?
What are you prepared to risk in order to remain true to yourself?
And would conformity not be in opposition to the spirit of the Festival of Dangerous Ideas, a festival I attended recently that invites us to explore ideas that challenge the mainstream, unsettle familiar assumptions and disturb our certainties?
Perhaps an introvert and lone wolf such as I has little cause for concern. I have long been accustomed to standing a little apart, observing from the edges and forming my own view. Yet even the lone wolf longs, at times, to belong and perhaps differently.
Do you risk your sense of belonging for what you believe to be true or right?
In the messiness, we keep becoming.