I’ve been thinking quite a bit more about loneliness since my last post.
Part of me does not want to be the person talking about loneliness. Why can I not be the funny one? The one writing about face creams or pumpkin cookies or stories about people I meet on the subway? (Living in rural Indiana, the answer to that last one is quite obvious.)
But the truth is that while I love fall baked goods as much as the next person and often dream of living out our empty nest years in NYC, I am drawn to matters of the heart, to questions about who we are and how we relate and what God is doing in the world. Roughly seventy percent of my day, my brain spins around complexities, dancing in a sea more choppy and gray than black and white.
So here I am again talking about loneliness.
Because (I feel it too) loneliness is one of those internal states we often want to brush aside. We want to rush past that slight burning in the chest or the way the throat tightens and teeth clench when we enter a room. We do not want to look at our loneliness any longer than we must. Why encourage it with our attention?
But then again, what if we began to look at loneliness kindly? Like so many of our emotions or internal states of being, loneliness is not an enemy or symptom of a disease but rather a signpost pointing us toward something intended for our good.
Because here’s the kicker…
The answer to loneliness is not always more people.
I have sensed belonging and connectedness all by myself and have felt deeply alone in a crowded room. The answer is not this or that, black or white. Because while isolation (being completely detached from people) is not the salve to our loneliness, neither is blindly filling our schedules full of coffee dates or stretching ourselves thin across the surface of relationships.
Loneliness could be telling us a great many things, but until we pause long enough to listen, we will remain in well-worn patterns of avoidance or spinning in circles wondering where we lost ourselves along the way.
This week, I want to offer you five questions I have found helpful when peeling back the layers of my own loneliness. The questions themselves are not magic. Nor are they new. They are simply a means for looking inward with honesty, curiosity, and compassion, to be students of the complexities often swirling inside. They are a way to know and to be known.
What was the situation when loneliness surfaced? Consider when loneliness first surfaced or intensified, and ask yourself: Where was I? Who was I with (or was I alone)? What time of day was it? What was happening? What was being said (or left unsaid)?
What do you want? Loneliness is often an indicator of a deeper longing, so when loneliness surfaces, reflect on what you desire or sense is missing.1 Where is loneliness pointing?
What is the story? Jonathan Gottschall writes, “…we’re forever swimming through a turbulent sea of narrative, with rival stories churning against each other and buffeting us around.”2 We are storied creatures, but we do not always have to be swept away. Rather, we can step back and consider the underlying beliefs or narratives attached to our loneliness. We can ask, “Is it true?”
How does loneliness affect the way you perceive yourself, God, or other people? Do you see yourself as not enough or too much? Are threads of fear or threats of abandonment lingering in your relationships? Is loneliness causing you to pull back or cling too tightly?
Do you sense an invitation to act? If so, how? For we who get stuck in our minds and emotions, doing something tangible can often help us get outside ourselves. Perhaps loneliness is inviting you to text a friend, say hello to a neighbor, take a walk, write a letter, bake bread for your grandmother, or ask a friend to meet you for doughnuts.
More than likely, each of these questions will reveal additional questions, and my hope is that you will follow them. Hold the queries with compassion. Give yourself grace to go slowly. Have an unfiltered conversation with God. Gesture wildly. And no matter what you find beneath the layers of loneliness, may you go gently and remember that you are held, nestled within the inexhaustible Love of a Communal God.
Curt Thompson’s book The Soul of Desire: Discovering the Neuroscience of Longing, Beauty, and Community (IVP, 2021) has been especially helpful as I become more comfortable naming what I want and trusting God with my inner longings.
from The Story Paradox by Jonathan Gottschall (Basic Books, 2021).
I so appreciate that you pointed out the importance of "belonging" over simply being with people. In my own recent wrestling with crippling loneliness, I tried filling up my schedule with all kinds of appointments and outings to quell the feeling. I realized, though, that this is not the way. Instead, what I wanted (as you asked!) was connection and belonging. So, I think it's good that you remind people that simply having a full calendar is not the answer. (Isn't this what we so often suggest to people when they indicate they are lonely?)
Thank you so much. You give us good truth and help to name it❤️