Alone does not mean lonely

It is only when we silent the blaring sounds of our daily existence that we can finally hear the whispers of truth that life reveals to us, as it stands knocking on the doorsteps of our hearts. ~K.T. Jong

We fool ourselves when we believe that busy lives are happy lives; that surrounding ourselves with people will keep us from feeling lonely. In fact, I was lonelier in the latter years of my marriage than at any other time in my life. My ex-husband and I were two people living parallel lives in the same house. I survived by keeping busy, filling the days on my calendar, convincing myself that I was happy and living a full, meaningful life. When my marriage ended and my life came to an abrupt though temporary halt, I was like the child in the Hans Christian Andersen folk tale, THE EMPORER’S NEW CLOTHES who said, "But he has nothing on!" I realized that my life had no authenticity, and I had been too busy to notice.

No one need go as far as I did to find insight. But living on a sailboat, on a small island, and two years living in a remote log cabin in northern B.C., certainly gave new meaning to the word alone. Friends would write, “Don’t you get lonely out there with nothing to do?” I tried to explain:

My life is simple here on Middle Rendezvous Island. No quick trips to the grocery store for last minute items. No parties to organize or attend. My wardrobe consists of jeans, t-shirts and sweaters; Tevas, rubber boots, or hiking shoes the only footwear to choose from. Nighttime entertainment consists of CBC Radio, reading, or looking at the stars in the sky. There are no traffic jams, no traffic lights, no cars, no roads! No WalMarts, and no shopping malls. And I am happier than I have been in my whole life. It is the absence of things that brings that happiness. Bob and I are two loners who share solitude together, and at times, apart. I like my own company. Alone I can hear my own thoughts, feel my own emotions, and dream my own dreams. In the silent and uncrowded spaces of British Columbia, my world has grown, and I am never lonely. I have learned that being alone is not the same as feeling alone. (July 1998)

Now I live in a small city, in a neighborhood of old houses turned into off-campus apartments for college students. There is no silence here. Oddly enough, it does not bother me. In the midst of passing cars, train whistles, airplanes overhead, shouts and laughter from neighbors, I have learned that I can still find that quiet place. It resides within myself.

Loneliness is the poverty of self; solitude is the richness of self. ~May Sarton

... PLM