Theme song: So Lonely
I never knew loneliness until just before I turned 35. Up until then, I had not often been alone.
When loneliness came, I didn't, at first, recognize it. Then instinct and curiosity helped me identify the feeling.
I was in yoga teacher training school at the time, so I brought my questions about loneliness to my classmates and our teachers.
The Spiritual Path is a Lonely One
What they told me was not reassuring. They said, "The spiritual path is often a lonely one."
I did not want to believe it, but over time it made perfect sense.
There were, of course, other reasons for me to feel lonely: I was the mother of two small boys in a society that, in effect, isolates and undervalues motherhood and my marriage was failing.
I was also beginning the slow and arduous task of waking up to reality -- "Reality as it is, not as you would like it to be," my teacher, S.N. Goenka, reminds his students everyday.
Erm, that sounds scary!
Reality is a scary place and difficult to get to -- especially for those who think they know it -- but all my teachers assure me that, like a well-built doorway or arch, it is the safest place you can be.
Well, between, separating from ex-husband and living alone for pretty much the first time -- ever -- things got super crazybeautiful for a while and so I didn't think to be lonely.
But once I had more or less fully pried myself out of my marriage, I developed a very healthy fear of loneliness.
I've blogged before about dying alone and unloved eating cat food out of can. I could also wax scientific about the reasons humans fear loneliness.
Suffice it to say, loneliness hurts -- especially when distinguished from "being alone," which is generally considered a good thing -- in small doses.
Some people say that loneliness is epidemic in contemporary society and blame social media (you know, blogs like this one :) ).
In fact, I began this blog in part in order to find a creative outlet for my loneliness.
Remember? I had just gone through my second breakup and the spectre of canned cat food was once again rearing its ugly head.
I do believe that loneliness and nostalgia are increasingly likely as we age. And, no matter our age or circumstances, loneliness is practically inevitable at one point or another.
Here's my suggestion: Learn to enjoy the sensation of loneliness.
How to Enjoy the Sensation of Loneliness
First, use your imagination.
I imagine loneliness as an abandoned convent -- you know, the kind with a courtyard surrounded by symmetrically placed stone pillars -- on a cold, windy and moonlit night. The space is open, bare and starkly beautiful in its emptiness.
My best friend, Stephen, imagines loneliness as a violet sea against a violet sky.
When he told me that -- and this reminds me: It was Stephen who suggested I learn to enjoy the sensation of loneliness -- I thought, "Great! I'll build my convent next to your open sea!"
Maybe it doesn't work like that?
The next step, then, is to feel your loneliness consciously.
My own loneliness feels cold in my bones. This freezing quality creates a self-consciousness that stiffens my movements.
How does your own loneliness feel?
Now that you've felt your loneliness, you must wait. Be courageous, stand your ground and feel your loneliness as you go about your day.
I often feel mine more acutely, but less painfully, when I'm walking. And I often lose track of it altogether when I'm working or with friends.
How about you?
Whatever the case, don't push loneliness away. As you know, you can't enjoy things you push away (ask any commitmentphobe).
Finally, and I hate to offer bad news, but this next step might require a miracle.
Why?
In order to enjoy your loneliness you must be willing to go into it and find out what it is asking of you.
Probably, it is asking you for generosity or creativity or maybe gratitude.
Probably, your loneliness wants you to be more of who you were meant to be.
As for me, I remain afraid of loneliness and that's good because it has a little tendency to turn into isolation and depression -- impediments on the path to freedom and joy.
But I have also learned to enjoy the sensation of loneliness. I like its cool and seductive touch. I enjoy walking around knowing I have a secret. I enjoy standing up straight and tall and bearing the loneliness lightly. I like conquering my desire to run, knowing that if the going gets too rough modern society offers me a wide array of temporary escapes.
And, of course, between work, friends, love and adventure, I am not often lonely these days.
What Enjoying Loneliness Taught Me
Loneliness taught me more about what it is to be an adult as well as what I suspect it will teach you: To be creative, generous and grateful.
To be fair, I understand there may be many other ways to to learn to enjoy the sensation of loneliness, but I don't know them.
Go ahead, give this method a try. Find out how to enjoy the sensation of loneliness.
Your Turn
What is your loneliness telling you?
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