If Your Loneliness Could Speak, What Would It Say?

Reflections on loneliness, a writing prompt, a photo prompt and news for January

13 years ago in a little room in the corner of student housing overlooking a green garden, I felt a sharp ache in my chest. This ache wasn’t a heart attack or even a panic attack. It came from the knowledge I was new in a foreign land, I had no friends here, and it was a particularly cold October. But I wasn’t home sick. I spent a childhood alone with books and sketchbooks, escaping into a world of fantasy and paintbrushes, and I had all those things here - if I truly wanted, I could easily escape again. However, no matter how I tried, the books and paintings just wouldn’t heal the growing pain in my chest. As I looked out the window, I saw two people walking by, deep in the throes of conversation. It was when they broke the seriousness of their conversation with loud, free laughter that it hit me. 

I was deeply, profoundly lonely. I yearned for connection, the ability to laugh with someone that freely. 

Immediately the thought brought me shame. You see, I had always been told that loneliness for women in particular was a personal failing. I had chosen to pursue higher education than do what society expected of young women my age, which was to start looking for a husband. It had been drilled into my brain that this choice (along with the choice of building a career) would almost certainly lead to me dying alone with a bunch of cats (more on this in the next post). To admit that I was lonely was to admit that prophecy had weight and truth behind it (It absolutely does not and I’m a big fan of cats, anyway.). 

It was this fear that made me ignore that growing pain in my chest and forced me to get out of my room and go meet people. Shame does a real number on our minds, its potency is quite unlike anything else. So over the course of my twenties, running away from loneliness became par for course but it led to reckless decisions that became painful lessons. My fear of loneliness would still stalk me today if I hadn’t learned how to embrace it and turn it into solitude.

Human beings spend a lot of time trying not to be lonely. We turn to tv shows and books, or more likely pick up our phones to scroll through social media. We are inherently social creatures, even those of us who are introverts, and we long for and seek out each other in a myriad of ways to find laughter and joy, hope and heartwarming conversation. Not being able to find people who are YOUR people is a terrifying prospect, the notion that you are truly alone in the world - that no one understands you and you are destined to live a life isolated on this earth. 

It is no accident that all the forms of grave punishment we have for other human beings include total isolation. Whether this is through icing someone out of a group of friends or ghosting someone after forming a deep, meaningful connection. 

I spend a lot of time thinking about these dynamics of lonely now on long walks in the woods, so much so that I wrote a poem about it in my poetry collection Where Hope Comes From:

The solitary nature of a tree was one of the greatest lessons to me in stillness and in observation. The tree has no choice but to let everything happen to it, the cruelty of the storm or the kindness of rain. And it taught me that instead of pressuring the world to give me human connection, I should simply embrace all the treasures it already gives me.

There are a lot of ways in this world to be less lonely. Whether it is through volunteer work or joining your local book club, joining a support group or simply finding the courage to call someone and ask them if they would like to meet. But truly what is the harder work, the difficult work is being able to sit with your loneliness and figure out why it exists. This is shadow work, finding the hole in your heart and instead of filling it with just about anything, seeking the cause of the wound and learning precisely what it needs to heal.

This leads me to the writing prompt for this day:

Sit down to have a conversation with your loneliness. Ask it where it comes from. Ask it what it needs. Treat it like the small child that it is, a being that needs attention and care that only you can give. If your loneliness could speak, what would it say?

Here is the place that I go to when I get lonely: 

Take this as your photo prompt. What are the feelings this image brings to you? If you were standing here in the sunlight, what would you be thinking of? What secrets would the trees and the river give you? If it comes to you as a poem or just free writing or even a story, put it all down on paper. 

News for January for Paid Subscribers:

The month of January is all about renewal and in the spirit of this, I am bringing you a creativity challenge. We will work together through a series of fun and beautiful creative exercises, help each other stay on track and create some wonderful art along the way! I am truly looking forward to doing this with you, I can’t think of a more powerful start to the year than to start it by allowing our creative sides to play as much as they need to!