A little note on loneliness

I've spent a lot of time these past two years in solitude. Much of it has been intentional—I’ve made certain choices to sacrifice things like co-living with others or making more money to spend towards an active social life, in order to weave together a cocoon for myself, a protective space to unlearn some thoughts and open/re-dress some wounds. I know I won’t be here forever. In time, I will extend/expand outward again and share what I’ve learned with others, or help them through their own cocoon-ing.

But in this period, I have moved back and forth between feeling a warm, cozy, liberated, exciting solitude with…a cold, empty, depressive loneliness (among other feelings, of course.) And I know it's not just me. (Enter: a ton of discourse elsewhere about the high rate of loneliness Americans are experiencing post-COVID; the erosion of public, accessible third spaces in the U.S.; income inequality contributing to both of those crises, etc. etc. etc.)

Today I remembered that my loneliness is very much self-perpetuating, that I’m never actually alone, and that it’s an illusion. In every moment, there’s an entire web and network of life forces helping me, encouraging me, and supporting me, often completely behind the scenes.

It starts very locally, and though I won’t share the specifics, there are people close to me whom I know care about me, and love me, and want the very best for me, always. And there are many people I’ve known, friends and co-workers and teachers and managers and passing strangers, who have gifted me notes of encouragement. I keep their words and pictures hanging on my walls as a salve, a distinct form of their presence that stays close by.

This network extends far beyond my understanding. The Earth is buzzing. There are countless people around the world contributing to my own success and survival right in this moment. Their choices impact my life and wellbeing. There are (most likely, from my lens) beings from other dimensions nearby sharing their energy from afar, completely unseen, potentially in a totally different form. Loved ones who have "left" Earth could also be nearby, emanating love or energy towards me. When I read a book or listen to a song, I’m carrying that author’s words, or that artist’s sounds, and I am connected with whatever it is that came through them.

And on and on and on. So many people/lives involved in one person’s story. All of this makes me feel less alone, or that my "individual" existence is never actually completely detached from this whole network. It sounds obvious, and maybe it is, but it can be difficult to keep this perspective in mind.

When I’m feeling lonely, I have to remember this network exists, and more importantly, that it waits for me to engage, to contribute, and to reciprocate. It’s also a responsibility, and something I struggle with—attempting to keep separation/individuation/"boundaries" coexisting with connection/togetherness/relationships/selflessness. I don’t always understand why I keep a distance, and I start to feel bad about it. But at the same time, in many ways, I agree with Rainer Maria Rilke: "The highest form of love is to be the protector of another person’s solitude." I feel like my distance could be a necessary part of my growth.

In any case, if you feel lonely like me sometimes, I hope you can consider the network that surrounds you, extending from the past into the current moment, and remember that you are never alone.