From the Shadow of Loneliness to the Light of Solitude

Dear Loneliness,

How is it that we can be surrounded by people, enjoying the time with them, and yet feel that familiar heaviness of feeling utterly alone? It’s a strange sensation, isn’t it? To be in the midst of a crowd, yet unable to shake off the weight of isolation. That feeling…that feeling of being so separate, so misunderstood or unseen…that’s you, isn’t it?

Don’t get me wrong, I am someone who enjoys time alone. I can find calm and peace. I can tap into my creativity when I am alone. But there are times when I feel very disconnected from people. Like no one really understands me or sees me. You, Loneliness, have come to me when I am alone, not by choice, and more often when I am standing in a crowd.

As a kid I often felt like I was just weird and misunderstood. Sure, I had a lot of friends and people around me all the time. But I always felt like I was performing, trying to live up to some sort of standard set out for me by others, by society, with expectations and little room to be different. Growing up in the 80s and 90s, knowing I was gay and attending a church that could not accept that led me to make choices that felt so separate from who I am just to fit into the group. And coming out confirmed my greatest fears – that I could not be a part of the community I thought I was a valued member of.

But I stepped away and found new community. And in that community I was able to be my authentic self. No longer feeling like I needed to betray myself to fit it, I finally felt some sense of belonging. But there have still always been times I felt on the periphery of that community. It’s a feeling that I know all too well. It is You, Loneliness.

When the pandemic came, you, Loneliness, grew even more powerful. Social distancing and isolation became the norm, and your presence became palpable in ways I had never imagined. The physical distance between me and my loved ones seemed to amplify the emotional distance, leaving me yearning for connection like never before. But by then, when I craved connection like never before, I isolated even more. I avoided connections. I went inward and isolated emotionally as well as physically.

But now, back in community, back with my loved ones, I am slowly getting back to connecting with others. And I find myself wondering, Loneliness, how can I differentiate between you and the beautiful concept of solitude? What sets you apart? I still love my alone time. Is it possible that amidst your shadow, there lies a gift waiting to be discovered? Solitude seems to offer a respite, a chance to connect with myself in a meaningful way. But you, Loneliness, often bring a sense of emptiness and despair.

Can you shed light on this, Loneliness? Can you help me understand how to navigate the fine line between you and solitude? What gifts can be uncovered when I choose to embrace solitude, to be comfortable in my own company, and to find strength in being alone with my thoughts? What messages about connection and my struggle to feel comfortable in social situations do you have for me?

Yours sincerely,

Christine

Loneliness is one of the hardest emotions for me to talk about. There have been many times in my life where I have been surrounded by people, enjoying their company, being very social, and yet I have felt profoundly lonely. There are also many times when I am alone, and I genuinely enjoy the solitude. What is the difference?

I actually considered not writing this, mostly because I have wonderfully caring friends and family members who will, undoubtedly, worry about me and fear that I am experiencing a mental health crisis. I want to assure them that I am not. I am not currently feeling lonely, nor am I isolating. But these well-meaning loved ones know that isolating and feeling lonely are signals for me that I am heading in a direction that needs some attention.

Loneliness is, I think, very misunderstood in our society. There is this tendency to believe that everyone needs to have a large social circle, constantly spending time with people in order to be healthy. The introverts among us would disagree.

I am generally a pretty introverted person. Sure, I enjoy being with people. My work requires me to interact with a lot of people and I genuinely enjoy being around them, talking with a lot of different people, sharing life with them.

I also very much enjoy being alone, or with just a few people and forming strong and deep connections with them. My circle of friends – true friends – is small. And I don’t spend nearly enough time with them. But keeping my circle tight means I know who will be there when things fall apart. I know who will celebrate with me when I have something to celebrate. I became very aware of who those people were over the past five or six years – during times when Loneliness was all too real, when serious illness struck my family, when my marriage was falling apart, and again when it was restored. I am grateful for the few who stepped up to help with my kids when I needed to be in the hospital with my wife. I am grateful for the ones who checked in with me when I had my own surgery. I am grateful for the ones who called or texted during the early days of the pandemic. I am grateful for the ones who genuinely wanted to know how I was and who listened to me when I said I needed space, but let me know they were there when I was ready.

Loneliness is painful. It comes when we most want to have social connections, but are unable to, whether due to distance from the ones we love, social isolation due to mental or physical illness, or, as we all learned in 2020, due to imposed isolation.

As I said, I love my alone time, when I choose it. And at the beginning of the pandemic, I welcomed that alone time. Until I didn’t. At the time I was going through some pretty big changes in my life, which only amplified the sense of isolation and loneliness I felt.

Chosen Solitude can be a gift. It is a time for us to connect with Self, to tune into those creative ideas we have been holding onto. Solitude lets us quiet our minds and relax the parts that feel the need to perform or “be on” in the company of others.

Loneliness is a feeling we have all experienced at some time in our lives. It is a natural human experience, which signals to us a need for connection. Connection is not the same as being surrounded by people. Have you ever stood in a crowd of people and still felt the emptiness of loneliness? Social media and virtual ways of connecting can be helpful, and we learned to rely on them during Covid isolation. But I find that social media can also exacerbate the feelings of isolation. When we see the ones we love enjoying their lives in a very curated series of Instagram posts, we can wonder why we don’t have times like that. If we are away from our families or friends, those photos can make us miss them even more. But technology such as Facetime, Zoom and other video-conferencing applications have allowed us to connect with others in new ways. Now, we can see our loved ones, not just hear their voices when they live far away. We can collaborate on projects and solve problems with others, not only working in isolation. Technology has introduced us to online dating, to meeting people who share similar interests and to reconnecting with old friends.

I often wonder, however, if relying on technology for our social connections is actually increasing the level of loneliness we feel. Have we replaced human connection with connection to an avatar? Is there more to community than simply sharing values or interest? Is there something about being in the presence of others that allows us to connect in a truly human way we can’t find online? Are we really able to let go of the armour and be truly seen when online?

Are there gifts to be found in solitude? I think there are. Solitude can be a conscious choice to spend time alone, connecting with Self. In a world where we are increasingly visible and available to others, having time to be introspective, to self-reflect and to be creative can be life-affirming. While chronic loneliness can be both physically and psychologically painful, intentional solitude allows us to embrace short periods of loneliness as a reminder to establish and maintain connections with those we love and trust, including (and especially) ourselves. Loneliness can be a push toward finding our people, the ones with whom we know we belong, without feeling like we have to change ourselves to fit in.

Embracing the shadow of Loneliness is not easy. There is a stigma attached to feeling lonely. We wonder why we feel this way? Does anyone love us? Why we can’t have what we believe everyone else has? But the shadow of loneliness can remind us that we do have connections and community…we just aren’t connected with them in that moment. Remember, without the light, there is no shadow, and no shadow can exist without light. When we feel the sting of loneliness, let us show ourselves some compassion. We are feeling pain. We are feeling empty. Rather than judging, let’s give ourselves some love, engage in activities that bring joy and fulfilment. And let’s use our times of Solitude to discover a deeper understanding of ourselves and others.

Dear Christine,

I hear your words, and I acknowledge the pain that courses through them. Loneliness can indeed be a heavy burden to bear, especially when it feels like you’re surrounded by others yet isolated in your emotions. I remember how I showed up in your younger years, those moments of uncertainty and longing for connection, when you felt like you were just on the outside of your circles. I recognize how I stood with you during times of chaos and confusion, when you were in the hospital wondering about the outcome for your loved ones. I know I was a constant presence during the pandemic, and so much time spent with Me made it hard for you to return to making meaningful connections with others. I apologize for any harm I may have caused then and now.

I want you to know, Christine, that my desire is not ever to keep you in a state of isolation, but rather to guide you towards a deeper understanding of yourself. I recognize the confusion that can arise when trying to differentiate between me and the gift of solitude.

Solitude, my dear, is a conscious choice – a chance to be with yourself in a way that nourishes your soul. It’s about embracing the quiet moments, finding joy in your own company, and engaging in activities that ignite your creativity. Solitude invites you to connect with your inner self, to reflect, and to recharge.

Distinguishing between solitude and Me is an art, Christine. Solitude brings contentment, while I often bring a sense of longing. Solitude is chosen, whereas I tend to impose myself upon you. When you feel my presence, take a moment to reflect on whether it’s a genuine need for solitude or whether I have entered your emotional space to bring you a message…that you need to reach out and find connection with the ones you love and trust.

In moments of loneliness, consider reaching out to friends, family, or a support network. But also, embrace solitude as an opportunity to connect with yourself on a deeper level, to engage in creative endeavors that bring you joy, and to recharge your spirit.

Remember, Christine, you are not alone in your journey. I am here, not as your enemy, but as a guide – pushing you to explore the depths of your emotions and discover the treasures that solitude can offer.

With understanding,

Loneliness

Have you ever felt lonely while surrounded by people? What makes you feel lonely? How can you embrace Solitude today?