The Divinity of Loneliness.

Any real-deal personal growth process requires some uncomfortable and intentional hard. ass. work... as no one's coming out changed for the better without a thorough examination into the realities and roots of our deepest fears.  I’d imagine that what lives in the darkest caves of the soul is a special little concoction of horrifying ingredients somehow unique to each of us. Yet, through my fascination with fear facing, I keep noticing how many of our concoctions have fear of impending loneliness as a primary ingredient.  It is, without question, a big one for me.  And because it’s such a big one for me and so many others I know and love so well… then, hey, let's get talking about it already.  Ya dig?

Hafiz, a 14^th century Persian mystic poet, wrote this poem (as translated by Daniel Ladinsky): 

The Quintessence of Loneliness

I am like a heroin addict in my longing for

A sublime state, for that ground of Conscious

Nothing where the Rose ever blooms.

O, the Friend has done me a great favor and

So thoroughly ruined my life; what else would

You expect seeing God would do!

Out of the ashes of this broke frame there

Is a noble rising son pining for death, because

Since we first met, Beloved,

I have become a foreigner to every world

Except that one in which there is only You—

Or Me.

Now that the heart has held that which can

Never be touched, my subsistence is a blessed

Desolation, and from that I cry for more

Loneliness.

I am lonely.  I am so lonely, dear Beloved, for

The quintessence of loneliness.  For what is more

Alone than God?

Hafiz, what is more pure and alone, what is as

Magnificently sovereign as God?

The common feeling, especially in relation to romantic relationships, is that if you aren’t in one, then you are alone.  And if you are alone, then you are lonely.  And if you are lonely, then that is bad, because it’s fucking terrifying and can feel like it’s going to last forever.  But when we choose to lean into this uncomfortable space, we begin to find that there’s so much essential sacredness in it.  This is where we really get to see ourselves because we aren’t reflecting the image of anyone else.  This is where we take responsibility for our own happiness.  This is where we figure out the kinds of people we really want to be with, where we do our deepest soul searching, and where we learn what it means to be graceful with ourselves, and eventually truly learn to love ourselves.  When we can embrace the divinity of loneliness, we can genuinely be with others because we are no longer dependent on them staying around forever.   We don’t need to manipulate people with guilt trips, victimization, and passive aggression.  We don’t need to feel eternally wounded by old rejections and abandonment.  We can just feel pure gratitude for the time that we have, with the knowledge that all relationships are subject to change and loss at some point or another.   I’m not suggesting that it’s cool to be alone all the time, as that’s an unhealthy end of the spectrum, but I am suggesting that sitting in and eventually surpassing the pain of loneliness might be one of the hugest accomplishments for overall life success.

I’m reading a book right now called, “Mating in Captivity” by Esther Perel (a pretty revolutionary text on love, sex, desire, and intimacy) and she takes it a step further, speaking on the essentialness of loneliness within a relationship.  I’m just going to quote a big fat chunk of it because it’s truly worth sharing:   

…We seek intimacy to protect ourselves from feeling alone; and yet creating the distance essential to eroticism means stepping back from the comfort of our partner and feeling more alone.  I suggest that our ability to tolerate our separateness—and the fundamental insecurity it engenders—is a precondition for maintaining interest and desire in a relationship.  Instead of always striving for closeness, I argue that couples may be better off cultivating their separate selves.  If cultivating separateness sounds harsh, let’s think of it instead as nurturing a sense of selfhood.  The French psychologist Jacques Salome talks about the need to develop a personal intimacy with one’s own self as a counterbalance to the couple.  There is beauty in an image that highlights a connection to oneself, rather than a distance from one’s partner.  In our mutual intimacy we make love, we have children, and we share physical space and interests.  Indeed, we blend the essential parts of our lives.  But “essential” does not mean “all.”  Personal intimacy demarcates a private zone, one that requires tolerance and respect.  It is a space—physical, emotional, and intellectual—that belongs only to me.  Not everything needs to be revealed.  Everyone should cultivate a secret garden.

And so now I’m working on shifting my relationship to loneliness.  Instead of relating to it as a temporary condition that will hopefully someday be healed, I’m learning that it’s actually an essential part of all of life stages, to be embraced forever.  Which, I don’t know about you, but for me feels like the biggest relief of all time. 

The fight’s over.  Loneliness wins.    

Never has loneliness been so glorious.