A good friend gave me a copy of David Whyte’s poem, The House of Belonging, which was very confirming, as it speaks to what I’ve gained over the years of being with and feeling my own aloneness and longing to belong, to myself. An excerpt:

This is the bright home
in which I live
this is where
I ask
my friends
to come,
this is where I want
to love all the things
it has taken me so long
to learn to love.

This is the temple
of my adult aloneness
and I belong
to that aloneness
as I belong to my life.

There is no house
like the house of belonging.