This entry discusses the somewhat inevitable presence of loneliness throughout our 20s, but offers a challenging angle to reframe how we view its purpose.
When I approached the psychic shop in Salem, Massachusetts, last weekend, I was simply expecting some reassurance that I was on the right track.
They just tell you what you want to hear and the placebo effect walks you out the door, right? I thought.
If I was paying $40 for a 15 minute reading, they would at least give me some hope.
When it was my turn, my psychic (Robert) led me back to a small table, made private by a thin sheet with zero sound-proofing. After a few moments of blank stares and silence, Robert said, “So what do you want to know?” Shocked that I had a say in this, I said, “I didn’t come prepared. I guess tell me what you think I need to hear?”
With a shuffle of the cards and a moment’s silence, he looked up from the cards with a face of assurance.
“You’re lonely aren’t you?” he said with conviction.
I had to laugh. This would happen to me. Of course a $40 psychic reading didn’t promise me a happily ever after or something unexpectedly great around the corner. He simply told me what I already knew.
Later that day, my friend and I debriefed our readings, unpacking her romantic future while all I had to contribute was my somewhat grim, but honest, reading. I felt a sense of shame that my struggle was so transparent, even at an up-charged tourist attraction.
Loneliness is a guest that I’ve hosted many times before.
It quickly finds a seat at the head of the table of my mind, lighting a candle until the flame burns in my gut. It's a trick candle, though, always finding it's way back to me, even after I've blown it out.
I spent the entire flight “home” to San Jose with my notebook open, unpacking what he said and how it truly made me feel once there was space between the situation and me. As badly as I wished for the loneliness to rush out of my body, I sat with it until it felt more comfortable. The more I allowed myself to feel it, the more it felt like warmth, not a burning heat. Maybe the loneliness was visiting again to teach me something.
It can be hard to admit these feelings of loneliness and lack of direction that many of us face in our 20s. But I’ve learned that sometimes, it is necessary and even valuable to feel lonely as we make space for what lies ahead. I no longer hope to view being alone as a negative, shameful feeling. Instead, I see it as the embodiment of courage as I let in something greater than what I’ve ever known.
Loneliness is a gentle reminder that at the beginning and end of the day, all we have is ourselves. It’s easy to get wrapped up in the background noise of relationships, so much so that we may forget to listen to the voice that matters the most, our own.
The other day, my friend told me that feeling lonely is simply a reminder that we once experienced its opposite. Those people and moments that make us feel the most at home are never going anywhere, even if they look different.
Our 20s are quite possibly the greatest opportunity to live fully for ourselves if we allow the space and grace to do so. Maybe loneliness is simply a part of you reintroducing itself, a piece of you that was was silenced by the noise leading up to this present moment.
In this next chapter of my life, I will save a seat for loneliness, for I know that it will come and it will go. But with each visit, I will remain present, listening to what it has to say. Sitting with our loneliness instead of running from it offers us the gift of time and perspective to get to know ourselves in a quiet room.
I’m starting to like the person that loneliness has unraveled more and more every day. I have no doubt that she’ll find great company, whether the psychic thinks so or not.
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