loneliness

Loneliness is my worst enemy. More so than homemade banana pudding or Friends reruns on Netflix or bearded lumberjack men. Loneliness makes my knees go weak. It makes me feel like I’m drowning. It makes me feel trapped.

For most of us, loneliness is an enemy. We come into this world held, nourished, hopefully loved. I came into this world with all of the above as well a companion to experience all of those things together at the same time. Well—to be frank, I experienced all of those things 2 minutes earlier than my twin sister. (Which, now that I’ve said that, I realize is starting to be less of a boasting point and more of a thing to keep quiet about. Who wants to be 30 first?!?)

I’m currently, at 1:30 pm on a Saturday, sitting in Nashville’s Centennial Park surrounded by people. Because when it’s 70 degrees in January you make the most of it. And yet, I have not felt lonelier. Maybe this is because I am sitting on a bench by myself while it seems that everyone else is surrounded by a loved one, or a friend, even a freaking Tinder date. And so, I feel like throwing myself a pity party.

Here goes: how-am-I-supposed-to-meet-anyone-all-by-myself?-I-always-met-someone-through-school-or-school-or-school-and-now-I’m-not-in-school. The-people-I-know-here-bail-on-me-only-because-I-bailed-on-them-first-because-I-get-tired-and-lonely-and-just-want-to-stay-in-bed-which-reaffirms-their-decision-to-bail-on-me. And if I were so bold as to venture out and try to meet new people….well I’d just put myself in the position of my other worst enemy—Judgement. Because-who-goes-somewhere-alone? We-have-to-look-like-we-have-friends-before-we-can-meet-new-friends-right?!?! And so, I will remain forever alone. I will buy lots of dogs (because as lonely as I get, I will never become a ‘cat woman’) and be that old lady that talks to everyone at the grocery store or McDonalds or wherever happens to be the ‘place’ to be at that time.

Ok. I’m done with my pity party.

Now, here’s the reality:

I am not alone, EVER. Neither are you. I, and you—we have God. And family. And even though right now I cannot physically touch either of the two, they are the only constants in my life. They epitomize ‘unconditional love.’ Perhaps the ‘formless’ is stronger than form.

I know this to be true because God speaks to me. Whatever God you believe in—He speaks to me. And not in dreams or visions. In simple, little ways that I can only hear if I allow my ears and heart to open.

He speaks to me when I happen to pick up an old, dusty devotional that is DEAD ON in addressing a question I JUST asked. He speaks to me when he sends me a sunset after a hard week at work, a sunset he sends when I’m spending my 50 minute commute thinking about how I don’t feel fulfilled or ‘on track’ or ‘doing life right.’ He sends me all those colors when I thought that all that was left was darkness.

One of my patients recently told me that I was wrong about my 20’s. Whereas I had always believed these to supposed to be the ‘best years of my life,’ she reaffirmed that the ‘30’s’—the thirties are the best years of your life. This patient is in her 80’s. And while I held onto her ‘wisdom’ like it was my saving grace for the longest time, I now want to readdress her ‘wisdom.’

Life can be shitty. It can be shitty when you’re 5, or 15, 25 or 35. It can be shitty when you feel that you’re at the end of retirement, when you’re just getting ready to settle down. It can be shitty when you’re just starting out. It can be the kind of spend-a-whole-day-in-your-bed shitty. Or spend-a-whole-year-in-your-bed-shitty. It can mean losing everything you thought you had—your friends, your job, your reputation, whatever that might mean. It can mean crying out to God (even though you might not believe in him) at 2 am in the middle of the night and telling Him He better damn change your life because otherwise you damn sure are done with this life. It can mean all of these things.

BUT…it can ALSO mean using all of these things to be stronger. It can mean accepting the past, no matter how much you want to forget it, to move forward, because the ‘past’—well, the ‘past’ isn’t your NOW. It doesn’t define you. Life can mean using your ‘past’ to connect to a world that, just like you, knows deep, cutting, stabbing loneliness. It can mean touching another Soul because YOU were brave enough to be vulnerable enough to say ITS OK, YOUR LIFE SUCKS. I’M HERE FOR YOU. WE’LL GET THROUGH IT TOGETHER. After all, we’ve got the biggest supporter on our side. And even if everyone else on this Earth judges us and chastises us and tells us we’ve screwed up, He will NEVER hold your past against you. He already gets that life can be shitty. He’s just waiting for you to figure out how to use THAT knowledge as a juxtaposition to all of the beauty on Earth, the beauty that is a mere glimpse into what’s in store for us.

So. Soak up your loneliness. And then go and do something about it. Even if it’s as simple as smiling at a stranger. Even if it’s as radical as attending an event you believe in alone. Even if it just means FINALLY opening your ears, your heart, to God.

There’s a reason we aren’t all here alone. A reason we come into this world the product of not one, but TWO, other human beings. We are meant to share in the pain and the laughter and the JOY of life. We are meant to help navigate the loneliness and to help one another know—to really, truly know—that we are NEVER really alone.