Red shoes & yellow brick roads

Much like Dorothy, we all embark on our own winding journeys down unfamiliar paths in search of a place to call home.

For me, this quest began within the ranks of the British Army, a life of constant relocation – brats, boxes, and moving trucks.

From Germany to Wales, England, and ultimately Canada after my father's departure from the army.

With each promotion, a bigger house in a new village or town, a fresh school, and the hope of new friendships.

When he became a Major we moved into East Frith Lodge. The lodge was an old Victorian house with big giant keys for rooms, walls of thick curtains and ghostly fireplaces in each room.

Through these transitions, I came to understand that home isn't just bricks and mortar, but the bonds with my family and an internal sanctuary yet to be discovered.

This nomadic rhythm became our norm, packing and unpacking, a different residence, a different town, a different city.

We each had a few boxes to carry our precious things from place to place. I can still feel the trinkets, medals, statues and stuffed animals and hear the sound of yellow packing tape being stretched to its limits across them, and my life that lived inside. 

Arriving in a new town, I'd try to predict which house would be ours, my heart racing inside the car, hoping...

That one? No, not that one. Perhaps that one? It might be nice, but no, it's around the bend.

I remember making the drive towards our house in Sherwood Park upon arriving to Canada and watching the houses go by with my hopeful heart inside of me desperate for a new place to call home.

Our roots of connection are grown in the soil of our early experiences and help us to develop a trust of the world, or a fear and mistrust of the world. The word ‘routine’ is about routing in deeply into one place and into a comfortable routine. 

When we don’t build grounding roots at an early age we don’t know what the word routine means or feels like. 

All of this makes an impact on our sense of grounding and place which among other things includes developing the skills to play and make friends on the playground. 

The essence of belonging to oneself, family, and community is etched in our bones, molded by our early experiences, for better or for worse.

As I watch friends and acquaintances settle into the cozy armchairs of their lives I'm still restless and searching for newness, adventures and still feel possibilities and excitement on the horizons. That one? No maybe that one? Was this because of moving? I'm not sure.

But it also left its mark on me. I struggled with finding new friends with each new school and adjusting to new rules, new classrooms and new surroundings. 

There's much to be said for staying put, for finding solace in one place, one home, one town, or one city. It's not necessary to move to explore. Imagination is as real to the brain as reality.

Belonging, a cornerstone of Maslow's hierarchy of needs, stands just above the base. Intriguingly, rooted belonging leads to Esteem.

Esteem is the result of belonging and having had love and acceptance from home, family, friends and community. 

At the top lies transcendence, just below it, self-actualization. The pyramid narrows as it goes up, as pyramids do and the message to me is you can’t miss the steps below it or this climbing the mountain of worth and love will not happen.

Esteem is our voice, our assertion of needs and wants. It's asking, "Am I worthy of having my needs met?"

For those who sing, it's a testament to self-worth, affirming the right to be heard, to want and need.

Stability, grounding and home are one half of the equation which help us to feel that we belong and have a right to use our voice.

But if we are going to spread our wings and branch outwards trusting ourselves on our individuated path it is vital that we move beyond the need to belong and move into the awaiting esteem above. 

I have a memory of me sitting on the moving truck at one of houses in England. I was sitting there on the metal dangling tailgate with legs swinging. I wanted to make sure that no-one left me behind. At the very least I’d go with the boxes. 

It hasn't been easy, but it's been my path – digging roots, unfurling branches, finding my way to belonging and Esteem, on the journey to self-realization, hot on the heels of transcendence, much like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz.

Dorothy’s search for home first of all took her far afield so she could eventually find her yellow brick road, her courageous lion, her tin mans heart and the wisdom of the scarecrow. 

Interesting to note that the Wicked Witch of the West wanted Dorothy’s shoes. She new of the powers of earth, ground and belonging but she also knew the magic shoes could take her anywhere she wanted to go. 

The great powers inside of belonging is that we belong wherever we go. We just need to take our courage, our brave heart and beautiful brains with us along the way. 

Oh and maybe a little dog. My dogs name is Lucy and she comes with me everywhere I go. 

Clicking my heels, one-two-three! Wasn't there a tornado too? Oh that's a whole different story!