We all understand it’s normal to feel lonely when we’re isolated. But things become confusing when we feel lonely even when we have close relationships with people who care about us.
What’s going on here?
We might not lack companions, a community, or a romantic partner, yet we’re tortured by feelings of isolation. The very notion that we have someone to hold us tightly makes our feelings all the more confounding.
The surprising truth is that loneliness is an inescapable part of being a curious and compassionate human. It’s part of our design.
Since so much of our lives revolve around being part of a community, we keep large chunks of our inner monologues to ourselves. It would be too intense or strange to be of interest. Few would find our rants about our daydreams, insecurities, or cosmic insignificance particularly charming.
Much of what we need to be seen and noted by others is too alarming to share. So rather than risk rejection and isolation, we only express the parts of ourselves we deem normal.
Interestingly, many of our concerns aren’t wholly unique to us. We all hide parts of ourselves that go against the status quo. The reason we filter out our peculiarities isn’t that we’re so abnormal in comparison to others, but because sanding off our rough edges is more practical.
It costs a tremendous among of energy to listen to and understand someone else’s experience. Plus, most people enter conversations to focus on themselves. So it’s difficult to share our abrasive qualities with others successfully.
Even our closest friends might never truly get us, no matter how hard they try. It’s rare to ever meet someone who thinks and feels on the same wavelength as us. And that shouldn’t be a surprise, we’re a product of different times, parents and life events, and are simply not cut from the same cloth.
That’s why we might be deeply moved by the lyrics of a song, while our partner is only interested in its catchy chorus. We’re just in a different headspace.
All this means that most of our turmoil is for us alone to endure.
The insurmountable distance between ourselves and others isn’t a mistake of our own creation. It’s a side effect of having a complex mind.
Luckily, the people around us aren’t our only option to feel understood and seen. We can tap into the minds of people who lived hundreds or even thousands of years ago, if they were so thoughtful to commit their views and feelings into works of art.
This way we can comfort our sorrow by observing Michelangelo’s Pietà, find the strength to persevere in Homer’s Odyssey, and soothe our anxiety with Claude Debussy’s Clair de Lune.
Feeling lonely doesn’t mean you’re doing something wrong. It’s a testament to your sensitivity to the world’s wonders and woes.