Do you ever feel lonely, when surrounded by people? Or while being with your children? I know I have.
I feel like I’ve had these experiences, as well as hiding from them more than most. Or maybe just as much as you have. I can’t know unless we bring it to the air and talk about it.
I’ve hidden from friendship, from companionship, from love. I’ve run away from intimacy since before I can remember that I knew I was running.
Yet I am also free and able to show up when it’s time to connect deeply, especially with strangers. Years of workshops during a difficult home life taught me that strangers are safer to be vulnerable with.
I’m still learning to trust those closest to me.
I feel vulnerable and held in my sharing today. I feel scared, and yet brave. It is a daily journey to choose to love myself in the fear, and to transform the fear or numbness into fullness, to open into it.
Why do I do it? As a truth speaker, one who shares their truth, and opens the ways for others to do the same, I am here sharing the story of alone-ness, knowing some of you will resonate, and hoping you will share, so that we all don’t feel so alone.
Today I painted in the morning, and then all afternoon I wanted to paint more, to be lost in the flow of brushes and paint and cutting and collage. But instead I was in funk, mucking about, trying to leave the house, and getting a sullen boy in return, feeling crappy, and not feeling the goodness of the time freedom I have at all. The boredom, the low level funk, creeped in. Knowing it would help, I dragged my ass to the beach, and even catching a ride 80% of the way, and running into friends wasn’t enough to crack open the feeling blah..
It wasn’t till we got to the beach and Alex wandered off to chat with some kids that I realized that what I needed was some alone time so that I could feel the feeling inside of me.
When I found a quiet patch of sand, and sat myself down, what I found behind the veil of boredom and frustration was…
Utter self pitied loneliness.
It’s the craziest thing to feel lonely when you’ve got a 6 year old boy who won’t leave your side.
He is literally ALWAYS there.
And yet the journey of always accompanied, never connected is a slow torture that I’ve inflicted on myself many times over the years. Now with 6+ weeks of solo parenting and no babysitter or co-parent around, the wear and tear of it is starting to show and has me realizing it’s about time to get help, and what I’ve been doing hasn’t been working.
And then there is the Guru, who reminds me softly, that “There is no suffering in being alone, only the suffering comes from the mind, which believes aloneness into loneliness.” Shove it guru, you’ve not been through what I went through. But where did all this pain come from?
As I find time to sit alone on the beach, I drop in and I feel the depth of the pain, it goes back 2, 3, 5, 7 years ago in this town, feeling abandoned again and again in the process of leaving Alex’s dad. It goes back further to moving when I was 10, leaving all my friends behind when we moved cities. “I have no friends” the wounded child inside of my screams. I have no choice but to hold her as my body shakes and cries. As I do, some strangers walk by and see my tears, they ask if I’m okay, and I give them a thumbs up and thank them for asking if I was okay. See, there’s always “someone”.
So now, my existential past pain is stopping me from seeing a gorgeous sunset happening all around me.
I am reminded that it is equally silly to feel lonely in a town teeming with new people to meet, and also with people who have known me for years.
Or all of you on the interweb, only a “please send me love” away.
Yet there’s a companionship of house and years and days that is still missing from my life. Not only from my traveling life, but also from my life before in Calgary, when 30km and 1.5 hrs of traffic separated me from my best friends, and getting together was an occasional and much organized thing. My heart yearns for the simplicity of my time in small town Morocco with Caroline and Anthony, and Christopher when we simply organized by saying “hey, let’s meet at this end of the beach” almost every day.
Or for the constant companionship that Maxim and I shared as we traveled, loved, parented and worked together.
I also realize the ridiculousness of pining over moments from the past, and the added ridiculousness continuing to winge about it all when after leaving the beach, we bumped into people we knew and then needed to “rush forwards” from them to meet up with friends. All while still winging about feeling lonely.
Guru pipes up from the back bench. “Seems pretty silly doesn’t it Elena? Remember this too shall pass.” It’s a calming thought for my mind, but the feeling pulses through me none the less.
I am not such a master yet, that it doesn’t just seem simpler to cry, let some steam off, and see what I can do about arranging adult company, and kid care for tomorrow.
#DreamLife #SelfLove #Friendship #AloneNotLonely #ItStartsWithMe #TruthSpeaker
Also published on Medium.