Today I was lonely. It has been a while since I have felt this way. Even when I am alone I do not always have this feeling in me. The feeling comes from the desire for companionship. I am not speaking of the classical ideals of a friend, a partner, spouse, or whatever but more so it is the longing for the deep, human intimacy. When we have it, it can be one of the most fulfilling things. Similar to how Ram Dass expresses his love for his guru (or teacher) in his book "Be Here Now" he said that when he was with his guru he felt like there was someone at home. This is a powerful form of intimacy. To the way that I understand things real intimacy occurs when we consciously choose to be active listeners. It occurs when we choose not to judge one thing that comes out of the other person's mouth and we simply listen; we allow them to express themselves in whatever feeling or situation they may be in, even if we don't agree with it. Feeling comfortable with the situation is not the objective. We sacrifice for a moment any of our own desires in order to just "BE THERE" with the other person. This can be seen as a form of Altruism.
According to dictionary.com, one of the definitions of altruism is, "The principle or practice of unselfish concern for or devotion to the welfare of others (opposed to egoism)." If we have a friend who's in need of support or mentoring the intimacy occurs most when we listen. Through the acts of patience and compassion we calmly guide them from any state of worry or sadness with dialogue that offers strategy for improvement rather then telling them what to do. It is different when we choose to "discuss how" rather than "tell how". Do you see how the wording of these things can be so important? How about noticing the emotional differences in sentences, or the authority differences. I know that speaking about these things might make me appear overly emotional or sensitive but I can say from first hand experience that these things do matter to other people, especially those who are in need.
In my state of loneliness it isn't even that I needed advice as I have my own methods of getting through personal issues, but more so I feel like I just needed someone to hold my hand, and quietly so. What I'm trying to explain here is that for some people all they need is a little attention. Every once in a while it is nice to have someone check in and say "hello." Now don't misinterpret this and begin an obsession that will have you going around town, assuming everyone's this lonely, and begin asking them a million questions. Some people don't want this attention, they want, and need, silence. It takes a good pair of ears and eyes to notice what it is a person truly needs, and everyone's needs are different. If you have the energy to give you can make a person's life brighter when you listen. The most important part of it is having the intention be a genuine one; not something forced, and not something where we are expecting successful results. This act is meant to be done for the principle instead of the title of “Good Samaritan”. We can't expect attention back; if you receive appreciation in return then you should celebrate it as one of the greatest gifts ever received.
I long for human intimacy, people who have the ability to be intimate with others. This confession is one of my most vulnerable and emotional aspects of myself. It is something I take very seriously inside. My work focuses on improving intimacy by teaching others what it is, how to better achieve it, how to maintain it, and how to integrate it into our lives. This is a two way street where I can only offer so much and the rest lies in the hands of the other person and their desire for it. Bigger questions surface from this passion. It appears that my need depends upon other people to feel successful. Does this mean that my happiness is dependent upon others? If so, is there a way to be happy when I'm not receiving this sort of attention? I will be the person who's going to determine that answer, and I wish to do so as maturely as possible.
Sure, we'd love to say we can control our happiness level, but saying it doesn't exactly enable us more. How do we do this? The answer comes in finding other ways to achieve intimacy. This is not a form of suppression because we're facing the reality that right now, that kind of intimacy is just not available; so now what? This is when I turn to myself. Listening to a lecture I once heard that 50% of the time depression could be cured with a little aerobic exercise. I decided to take a walk. I figured I would look for that intimacy in what I had available, and in that time it was in nature.
Something I never really told anyone till now was when I was younger, walking home from the bus stop, I would walk under a tree where the lowest branch would hang. I would let the leaves touch my face, imagining that they had a voice, and each leaf would tell me how much they loved me. Every touch was a kiss to my cheek. I would allow my thoughts to believe the sunrays were arms that hugged me with their warm light. Rain would be a blessing; a washing away of stress. When in the direct view of the moon I could hear a song from her light singing "I love you" over and over again. Nature, and things that we come to that do not speak in a human voice, can have a voice of its own that does not discriminate, judge, or try to tell us how to go about our lives. Instead it sings songs of love and wishes you all the happiness your heart can hold so you would never feel alone. It does this by just being there with you, witnessing everything you go through in life, holding your hand in the process. If you allowed yourself to believe this world was that beautiful wouldn't you want to be an introverted person all the time? People will give you a strange look when you try to explain that the leaves are singing to you songs of love. Even if we do not wish to believe such things the intimacy of nature still exists before us as every day the sun makes love to the earth, feeding her with his rays, and the plants harmonize in the environment with their cellular dance.
The strategy to overcome the loneliness is by facing the reality of the current moment and allowing other available things replace that sadness with love. We have to understand that our depression is rooted in the way that we are currently thinking, and so we have to figure out a different way to think, and then we have to give ourselves permission to do it. I really think the answer is that simple. I'm sure that there are more complex situations I'm not addressing, but on a general level maybe this is the path for some of us.
In my walk I went down a street that I use to bike ride on as a teenager. The way that the plants and trees would grow towards the light would create a metaphorical sound of its own; a striving and longing for more light. It was almost a ghostly moan, but a natural and familiar sound to hear by a person who is friends with these trees. Sometimes I would see the branches in their lifted position as dancers with open arms, ready to embrace my arrival as I'd zoom down the hill with no hands on the bar.
There has been new development on the road. Ironically, part of the new development had my name. Also in my walk back a car drove past whose license plate read "Mikles". I visited different places that I use to come to in the past to relax and get away from the things that got to me most. I intentionally listened to nature around me, doing my best to be a witness to the harmony it possessed. The growth of vegetation, the path of roots and vines caught my eyes. I looked at rocks and the marks left from growing plans and fungi.
I took time to notice the sounds. I had the opportunity to see deer running. I stopped at a small creek where I use to sit and watch the water. I think of lyrics from the sound of music in her desire to sing from nature, "...to laugh like a brook when it trips and falls over stones on its way." A celebration of life indeed!
When I was walking home I came across a stone. In the dark moist earth this stone gave a creamy and carnelian glow. I picked it up and held it in my hands. Instead of brushing off the dirt that clung to it I smeared it in my hands as I touched every bit of the stone. My hands were already cold, but the stone was colder; probably the temperature of ice. The reality of the cold made me wish to hold it longer because "this" was real; this I could touch; this made the experience ever more permanent inside of me. When I entered the house the nerves in my hands danced with life and spoke their funny language saying, "I'm alive! I'm alive!"
The loneliness has not escaped me and I will probably experience this again at some point. I have no doubt in my mind that this feeling will dissolve once I obtain new insights. The walk occupied me for a while. The action was an intentional step to free myself of these feelings. They don't solve the real yearning, but in time the feeling is going to step aside and I know the companionship will come back to visit. I have been lucky to know this intimacy first hand through different friends and mentors. I think that in life there are moments we encounter, where we cannot change the situation directly, and we are meant to suffer for a bit, but through this suffering we gain the motivation to keep going. The only way to really feel any better is by trusting it will end, we just have to keep showing up.
