The gravity of mattering
“Mattering is like gravity, unseen, but essential. It holds us in place. It steadies us. When we feel we matter, we feel anchored.”
— Jennifer Breheny Wallace, Mattering: The Secret to a Life of Deep Connection and Purpose
I’ve been thinking about two words lately: neighboring and mattering. They popped up together for me this week, and I can’t stop turning them over.
In a recent opinion piece in the New York Times, Thomas Friedman writes about the leaders of Minnesota’s movement to protect immigrant neighbors—and a verb he’d never encountered before: “neighboring.” As in, Today I will be neighboring—going out to protect the good people next door or down the block.
Neighboring is an authentic, organic connection with the people around us—sharing information, resources, and support. It harkens back to the oldest of commandments: Love Thy Neighbor. And in our city and across the state, I’ve been watching people do exactly that.
At an Indivisible meeting I attended recently, I witnessed something shift. The mood in the room had changed from the anger, fear, and frustration of a few months ago to something that felt like empowerment, effectiveness, and possibility. People had moved through an alarming crisis together—with generosity for their neighbors—and they were ready for the next challenge. They had a sense that they had mattered.
What is mattering?
Mattering fills a deep human need. It’s the feeling that we are valued, that our presence and contribution make a difference—to a person, a community, a cause. Research shows that a sense of mattering reduces anxiety and depression while increasing empathy and civic engagement. It connects us to something larger than ourselves.
Mattering is also reciprocal. When we give to others—when we show up, help out, or simply bear witness—we receive something back: a sense of purpose and belonging. The best way to feel like you matter is to let someone else know that they matter.
At the heart of mattering is a balance between our own needs and those of others. We need to help, and we need to be willing to be helped. We need to offer, and we need to be open to receiving.
Mattering through life transitions
Life transitions can shake our sense of mattering to the core. These lifequakes—the breakups, job losses, empty nests, and identity shifts—can leave us wondering who we are and whether we still have something meaningful to offer.
In my coaching practice, I see this often. A mother in the midst of empty nesting wonders if she still matters to her children in the same way. A beloved musician, stepping away from the stage after decades of performing, asks whether they’ll matter when they stop playing. A recent college graduate wonders if they’ll ever find work that feels meaningful.
The good news is that life transitions, as disorienting as they are, can also be an opportunity to make ourselves useful in new ways. When our old roles fall away, we have the chance to discover what we care about now—and how we might bring that care into the world.
A neighbor who matters
I’ve also been thinking about my neighbor Rob.
When our family moved into a new home during my fourth-grade year, Rob—a boy from across the street—came right over to introduce himself. He was probably hoping a boy was moving in, but he became fast friends with my two sisters and me anyway. Our parents became close too, the kind of neighbors who traded silly jokes and celebrated holidays together.
Decades later, Rob is still showing up. College graduations, moves to new cities, milestone birthdays. And at the bedside of our dying mother, who had become his mom, too.
Rob never had to do any of that. He just chose to. And because of that choice, made again and again over the years, he matters deeply to us—and I know we matter to him.
Starting small
We don’t have to show up at a bedside or organize a community movement to matter. We can start much smaller.
We can ask a colleague for their perspective. Turn to a friend for advice. Ask a neighbor if we can borrow something. We can let the children in our lives know they are seen and valued. We can tell a friend, a coworker, or a stranger that their work made a difference to us.
The consequences of not mattering—of feeling unseen, unneeded, disconnected—are real and harmful to our health and well-being. And the antidote is available to all of us, in small steps every day.
We all have opportunities—at work, in our faith communities, in our neighborhoods, in our families and friendships—to give others the attention and affirmation we ourselves long for. In the end, we all matter. And we all need to be reminded of it.
An invitation
As I prepare to co-lead a small group coaching series for those navigating major life changes, I’m thinking about our universal need for value, purpose, and community. If you’re in the middle of a transition—wondering where you fit, what you have to offer, or how to find your footing again—you don’t have to figure it out alone.
My colleague Jennifer Reece of Bridges Health Coaching and I invite you to join us for “What Now? Circle,” a small group coaching experience starting April 6th, 2026. A few spots remain for this supportive, six-session journey for those navigating life transitions.
And if you’re thinking about the ways you can matter more in the world, I’d love to connect. Reach out for a complimentary discovery session to explore how coaching might support your journey toward meaning and purpose.
I’m curious—who in your life helps you feel like you matter? And who might need to hear from you today? I'd love to hear your takeaways.
