Do we really tend to lead a lonely existence? As a Catholic I was taught that I was made from ash and I will return to ash, which is a very uplifting message, don’t you think? I have heard it said that we are born into the world alone and we will die alone. I find that difficult to believe.
There were at least three people in the room with me when I was born; the doctor, a nurse and of course my mother (it was the 70’s, so I assume my dad was pacing the waiting room with a box of cigars), so how was I alone at birth? I have been surrounded by people my whole life, I come from a family with two brothers, aunts, uncles, and cousins. I had grandparents, great grandparents, have godparents and relatives I’ve only seen but a few times but are still connected to me.
I went to public school and continue to maintain relationships with people I met when I moved to the town I grew up in.
I went to college in a city that was filled with young and old and the school was in the heart of one of the oldest cities in America. Walking around Boston in the middle of the night, one could feel the presence of the ghosts of the founding fathers of America, and the natives who inhabited this land far before.
The majority of my on air experience, when I was a disc jockey, was in the middle of the night. I was alone, physically in a room, but I was talking to hundreds of thousands of people (millions if you believe some of the ratings). When I do my podcast, usually I sit alone in a room, talking into a microphone, but I share the show with an old friend and we produce using Skype. Hundreds of people listen to us when they choose. Sure, podcasting is an experience that one usually does alone, but we are all connected by the content.
When I was in school, I lived in a dorm. For the majority of the time, I inhabited a single room, but was surrounded by people. I lived with roommates after school, and even lived with a woman who would become my first wife.
I didn’t actually live alone, until I was divorced, four years ago and the experience has been interesting. We all desire for time to sit quietly in our own space. We can do what we want, explore our own thoughts and sometimes get so far inside our heads that we feel isolated… alone.
I have friends; some on the outer circle and some that are very dear. Some I have known for 30 years, some six months. The length of time does not negate the deep connection we share. I have found that after giving so much of myself in prior relationships, I find it hard to really give all of myself anymore, yet I still have a rocks glass half full attitude.
Alone.
I see people who share their lives so completely, so openly and I suppose that from the outside I may appear to be the same. I pass couples on the street, I see close friends who are in a romantic relationship pass glances, share jokes and affection.
I have tried to be like them. I have, in the past, tried desperately tried romantic relationships and ignored feelings that didn’t fit. In some cases, I have taken up with people who are removed and tried to get them to come around to some idealized version of what a romantic relationship should be. There is a certain amount of safety in being with someone who is emotionally, or geographically not completely available. Simply put, I can’t get hurt if I realize the distance and stay in that moment.
For a long part of my life, I wanted to have relationships like I read about, saw in film or on television. Even in my chosen profession, radio, the ideal relationships surrounded me via music.
Ah, music… the solace of the person who has many friends, dear friends, but still feels that he’s still searching for that one person with whom he can share life. The music I love (blues, rock and country) is filled with the idea of finding the one. It’s also filled with songs of deep heartache and betrayal. In my years walking this world, I have seen almost all of it.
Have I loved? Yes. Have I tried to be in love? Yes. Have I been in love? Yes, twice. Have I been in love with the same person who was in love with me? No. Do I even want that? Yes. Will I find it? I hope so. When? I should really stop asking questions.
This is not a sad post, or a play for sympathy. I am merely exploring why we feel alone, when people surround us. I live in the New York metropolitan area and there are literally more than eight million people around me. I live in one of the most densely populated states in the Union (still proud to be from Jersey despite how MTV and the current Governor are destroying my beloved home state), and yet there are times when I feel like an outsider.
So, I ask myself (again with the questions), why do I feel alone? I have a close family, dear, dear friends and a job that is going very, very well.
I’ve spent thousand of dollars and years of therapy asking that question. The answer that I keep coming up with is: patience.
I have rushed into things before. My father used to tell me to slow down. When I was a child, my mind would race ahead of my mouth. I pushed myself to grow up fast. I liked being a kid, but I really wanted to be a grown up. I ran with older kids in high school, I dated older girls and pushed myself to work early. I used to stand in front of my mirror and pretend I was in my twenties. In fact, Grumpy Old Men, is still one of my favorite films.
Over the years, I have learned that my father was correct: patience is a great thing to practice. My dad is one of the most patient men I know. He is a middle child and an accountant. He had to live with an older brother and a younger sister, so he had to wait his turn. As an accountant, there is little drama and a tremendous amount of careful study of numbers and systems. He has to figure out the right path to choose and then go for it.
I strive, everyday, to be more like him. I’ve been way to emotional in the past, made rash decisions and been deeply hurt. But I have learned from it all.
I believe that patience wins out in the long run. Sure, we can have a string of nights living it up (something I highly recommend) and we can be spontaneous (also something I highly recommend). But, patience can be a blessing.
Patience does not mean taking forever to make a choice, or ignoring intelligence and instinct. You can be too slow and miss an opportunity. The balance is really weighing science and art together to produce the right outcome.
Be consistent, be true, and sometimes live like tomorrow is a rumor (but not so much that you get hurt). Trust yourself. Most of us are really good people, really we are. If we are afraid of being hurt all the time, then we wall ourselves up and become miserable.
So, why share these thoughts in public? Simple. I was walking today and I passed two people in separate sections of town.
The first was sitting alone on the side of the street. He had drawn eyes and looked like he’d not slept in days. He was crying, leaning against a lamppost. It was a silent crying, tears streaming down his face and he held a piece of paper in his hand. I walked a bit further up the road, paused and turned around, standing against a building. I studied his solitude. He just kept staring ahead and crying. I could see years of loneliness, but did not know why. After a few minutes, he got up walked in the direction from where I had come. I looked back down to where he was seated and he had dropped the paper.
I waited until he had passed a number of blocks and I went back and retrieved the note. I won’t betray his name or the name of the sender, but suffice it say, it was one of the most heart breaking things I had ever read. It was a breakup missive, informing him that she had cheated, lied and never really loved him. It was mean, hurtful and full of venom from a person who did not have her own life together. It was dated five years ago today and I got the impression that he reread that letter, every year on this date and had failed to move on.
I placed the letter back where I found it, in case he wanted to retrieve it and continue his personal cycle of pain, yet I hoped that his intention of leaving it on the side of the road was a signal he was, in fact, moving on.
Of course, as fate would have it, the next song to come up in my iPod was Garry Allan’s “Get Off On The Pain.”
On the other side of town, I came across another man who was sitting alone on a park bench. He was smiling and looking up at the sky. While he also had the air of solitude about him, he seemed content. I sat a few benches down and tried to look creepy as I watched him. After 30 minutes, I decided to be bold and approach him. I apologized for intruding and mentioned that I was studying people who sat alone (at the time I was, right?).
I asked why he was smiling, if he was sitting alone. He told me that he and his girlfriend took three hours each week, when they could, and spent it alone. Sure, they spent time with different groups of friends, but they were committed to take “alone” time so they could contemplate life. I apologized again for breaking his solitude and he replied that it was quite fine. He shared that when I came up to him, he had just been thinking of her and how much he loved her. Sure, it seems like a silly movie moment, but those writers have to get their ideas from somewhere.
“No matter what, we have each other. And I like to be alone and let my head and heart go wandering. They both always come back to her. It is very reassuring.”
I thanked him for his time and thoughts and let him alone.
As I walked back to my home, I realized that while we can be alone at times, we are never truly lonely if we keep those dear to us in our hearts and minds.
Now, does this philosophy help, if you are longing for someone to hold in the middle of the night? Maybe not, but I believe the lesson is patience. Listen, learn and share. Don’t rush for false companionship, rather, relish in your friendships. Don’t let Hollywood make you believe that you have to have someone around you every second of the day. Take time and look around, think about life and then act when it feels right.
A healthy mix of solitude, and being alone are not bad things. Believe me, I have lived in the same physical space with someone and felt completely alone. Now, if someone understands you and you can talk effortlessly for hours on end, enjoy each other’s company and your heart and mind wanders to him or her without prodding – then you have something special.
Keep in mind, however, that person my not have learned what we just did. So, be patient, sit on a park bench and smile.
