I had a funny little incident on my walk with my dog Barney last week. Out in front of me, I spotted a group of ducks. What caught my eye was that in amongst all the brown ducks, there was one white one. Naturally, I wanted a closer look, so I got my camera out and followed them. Well, I nearly ended up flat on my face in a puddle! Those ducks were quicker than I expected! I just managed to catch a snippet of their run on video. I’ve turned it into a little loop so you can enjoy the chase too. It’s not sped up, I promise!
The more I thought about it, the more profound it felt. This one white duck stood out visually, but it was clearly part of the group. That image set me off musing about belonging. When I got home, I looked up the term for a group of ducks. On land, they can be called a badling. I found this quite a juxtaposition. Badling sounds like waddling clumsily, yet these ducks were anything but clumsy. They were purposeful, quick, and completely together.
That white duck really stuck out as different, but still belonged as naturally as the others. It made me reflect on our own well-being and how important it is to find connection and belonging. Just as I was surprised at the ducks’ speed, I think we can be surprised by the places and people with whom we discover we belong. And crucially, we don’t necessarily only belong with people who look or seem just like us.
I was reminded of a beautiful quote from John O’Donohue in his book Anam Ċara:
“The hunger to belong is at the heart of our nature. Cut off from others, we atrophy and turn in on ourselves.”
It rings true: belonging is a sacred need. So often, healing, connection, and growth comes in community, through the groups that welcome us in. Whenever I think about belonging, I find myself returning to one of my favourite authors, Brené Brown. Her book Braving the Wilderness reminds us that belonging takes courage as it asks us to show up with vulnerability, empathy, and a willingness to be stretched by honest conversation. And yet, the beauty is that even with all that courage and vulnerability, belonging doesn’t demand that we change ourselves. As she writes:
That resonates deeply with me. I’m grateful for the groups where I’ve been welcomed, even when I’ve felt like that white duck, standing out as different. In those places, I’ve found safety, fun, and room to grow. Sometimes I’ve followed quietly at the back, other times I’ve been embraced in the middle, and now and then, I’ve even had the chance to step forward and lead a little. That’s the gift of true belonging.
This week, belonging has been on my heart as I launch my in-person watercolour workshops. The first one will be in Kirkham (Lancashire) on Thursday at 7:30 pm. A few places are still available. Of course, I hope participants will enjoy painting, develop their artistic skills, and discover new techniques. But more than anything, I hope they find a space where they can belong, relax, and have fun together.
For those further afield, I’ll also be offering a similar space online starting Monday, the 22nd. We’ll meet over Google Meet, and I’ll gently guide us in some simple, playful watercolour activities. You don’t even need paints—you can join in with crayons or pencils. The point isn’t perfection. It’s about connection, rest, and fun. If your lines are wobbly or your colours don’t stay inside the lines, that’s fine! Everyone will be different, but together we’ll form a group, a little badling, finding joy in the process.
I’d love to welcome you to one of these spaces. The first online session on Monday will be free. If you’d like to join, email me at andrea@andreaselley.com, and I’ll send you the link. You can also sign up for a paid subscription. For just £5 a month, you’ll get a monthly guided online session and a free download of my image of the month.
Thank you so much for reading. I hope my musings on ducks, belonging, and connection resonate with you. I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments or connect with you. After all, we’re all looking for our place to belong—even if sometimes it’s in a quick little waddle together.