Monday, September 5, 2016

Self-Care Series: Thoughts on a Loneliness

This is the fifth article in a series of blog posts sharing favorite self-care practices aimed to recharge, de-stress, balance work/home energies, and realign priorities.  

It’s a three-day weekend and I’ve been struggling with being alone and the silent takeover of an old familiar feeling called loneliness.  My husband is working long hours all weekend, my family is hundreds of miles away, my closest friend that actually lives in the same town as me is vacationing in Hawaii, so I’ve been spending time just doing things by myself. Being alone isn’t always so bad, in fact, a part of me has relished the time I’ve got to spend relaxing with no pressure from anyone else.  I went to the State Fair and got to wander the exhibits without worrying that I was boring anyone with me by spending too much time in the quilt exhibit.  I took a long relaxing bath with no interruptions.  I cooked the lunch I wanted without having to worry about anyone else’s taste buds.  But when the feeling of loneliness creeps in at the same time as being alone, it can become a little hard to escape. 

In the bright sunshine of the day yesterday the loneliness starting creeping in by telling me that perhaps I wasn’t interesting enough for people to want to be around me, that the fact that I didn’t have any specific plans lined up for the long weekend made me boring and common and simple.  I got sucked into Netflix and comparing my life to the drama on screen, which solidifying these thoughts.  The logical part of my brain said, “Do something you like!  It will help!” So I thought about writing, painting, doing yoga, or creating something, but I had already allowed the little voices of pity and doubt that loneliness let in to have too much power for that.  I was sure that anything I created would be worthless and not up to standard, so I didn’t even try.

The interesting thing about how my loneliness manifested, was that the feelings I encountered were based off of fear of comparison, even though there was no-one physically around to which to compare myself.  So I was self-conscious that I didn’t have anything interesting to do over the Labor Day holiday, compared to whom?  (No one who was currently with me.)  I was feeling like anything I did or created wouldn’t be good enough, but good enough for whom?  (For professional writers and painters and cooks who don’t know me and aren’t here?)  I felt so removed from people that I started believing the reason there wasn’t anyone “wanting” to spend time with me was because I was so grossly insufficient compared to them.  The loneliness made me feel like I was lacking in every department but only as compared to people who weren’t actually around to provide judgement.  The comparison I was subjecting myself too was not only unfair, but somewhat ridiculous considering that it was not based off the present moment at all since there was no-one around to compare myself too. This perceived cause of being alone and loneliness was pure projection of fear, and not based on any facts that my environment was providing me.

The truth is that we will get lonely sometimes, and it most often has nothing to do with anything we’ve done to run off another person, which seems to be where our brains like to go.  It isn’t because you forgot to wear deodorant last week so your friends are afraid of your musky armpits.  It isn’t because you don’t have travel-inspired Instagram photos to post this weekend.  It isn’t because you are boring or insufficient or not good enough.  (And if it is, then you just have really shallow friends and that’s a whole other topic).  Being alone just happens sometimes.  It is a normal circumstance of the ebb and flow of life.

For me, the thing that had the power to snap me out of loneliness this morning was to realize that anything I am doing or being or feeling wasn’t a cause for feeling lonely.  The two things are unrelated. Instead, I found that focusing on the simple joy of doing or being or feeling something, without unnecessary comparison, helped.  There really is something to living in the moment rather than living in our heads with unrealistic perceptions of past and future “truths.”

So this morning I cooked breakfast for myself.  Instead of just slopping it on the plate because I was convinced that the reason I was eating all alone is because I can’t make an appetizing breakfast so no one wants to eat with me, I carefully prepared my food and my plate just to experience the simple joy of it.  I made an effort not to draw an unrealistic connection between any lingering loneliness and my breakfast-making.  I made an effort not to try and prove I am good enough to not eat alone or to compare my plate to a chef’s plated masterpiece, but to simply experience the joy of making breakfast.  It had absolutely nothing to do with anyone else, and just was what it was.  It was breakfast that was nourishing, carefully prepared, and colorful, caffeinated, and fresh.  There was joy in the almost-overripe smell of farmer’s market cantaloupe and the layered texture of meat, egg, cheese, and bread in a bite of breakfast sandwich.  There was beauty in the way the light from the window blinds carefully lined themselves in slats of light over the dining room table.  There was the miracle in the process of how the breakfast came to be on my plate: From chicken to egg to carton to store; From seed to water to vine to cantaloupe; From clay to hands to firing and to plate.  There is so much beauty.  And where there is so much beauty to consider, where is there room in the head for unrealistic cause/effect situations, for comparison, for self-doubt, for loneliness?



For more tools and for discussion about why we actually feel loneliness, I recommend the following: