Loneliness

Here we are, on a planet that is absolutely teeming with life, including around 6 billion other human beings, and yet able to feel all alone. It can seem, at those times, that all that life is merely passing by – following its own concerns and not really “connecting”. It’s as if every other entity is wrapped up in a bubble of self-interest. There’s too much life. What makes it worse is seeing others who do seem to have some connection: who do seem to be able to share unspoken thoughts, common delights. And so we may “settle” for a coterie of associates [hard to call them “friends”], whose bubbles of self-interest might at least have room for a passenger. We become a circling comet to their solar systems, reflecting their light instead of showing our own. But we know that something vital is missing. I’ve been there. I know this feeling well.

Trouble is, what we learn of the world and how it works – how we can work – is more than a little cock-eyed. We seem, right from the crib, to have to compete to earn worth, respect, notice. If we’re among the lucky, our parents will treat us gently, show us affection, amuse us, make us feel worthy. Sad to say, some children don’t even get that. And even the best of parents will set boundaries. “No, you can’t have another cookie.” So we struggle to understand the boundaries; struggle to find the love behind them; struggle again to be worthy. And when we encounter those outside our immediate family, we have to struggle again. We call it “socialisation”: learning to live together. But the lesson it really teaches us is about hoarding and controlling worth.

Just look at society, today. It’s filled with “products” that can enhance your worth, celebrities who seem to have “cracked it” [until they, too, crack under the pressure of the lie], and yards of self-help guides and gurus that say “You’re worth it: just trust in yourself.” All those people, in their apparently worthy bubbles are actually just like you: scared silly that they don’t have worth; fully aware that the things they gather around them [including people like you] to reflect their “light” – their worth – are not cutting it. We’ve even got a phrase, in English, for the main thought in their bubble: “Keeping up with the Jones’s.”

Paradoxically, the best solution for loneliness is the exact opposite of the self-help guides. It’s to recognise that everyone is equally worthless and it doesn’t matter. There’s a fundamental law of life, which is “Love begets love.” And boy, the constant search for worth creates a lot of pain that really needs love, to salve it. Yes, in their waking sleep they can be hurtful, dismissive, seek to hoard their mythical worth. But once in a while, they may see the love with the eyes of the child they once were – and still are, inside. And, instinctively, they’ll return it. Just thinking of all those lost people, as I write this piece, makes me cry a little. There could be so much love in the world, if only we stopped trying to be worthy, and instead just offered love, unconditionally.

Loneliness is a useful sign. It tells us that we’re trying to be something we’re not: that we’re trying to wear “worth” like a golden cloak that everyone will marvel at. We want them to see the glory and miss the man (or woman) within. We’re trying not to be seen in our worthlessness. But all of that so-called “worth” is nothing more than societal conditioning. Anyone can love themselves for what they are: a tiny nothing; a fleeting speck of life in the vast hall of space and time. And anyone who can love themselves as a “nothing” can surely love others, just like them. And suddenly, you’re not alone. You never were.