Loneliness ... arbitrary reality

Last Friday has been a strange day — and: a beautiful day. A confusing day, on all accounts. It started good, then turned bad, finally turning out good after all.

"What happened?", you may ask (you may very well not ask but I'll tell you anyway).

I wasn't working, so I was pretty relaxed, however tired from the days before. It was sunny — a lovely, mellow, colorful autumn day, blue skies and golden leaves, the world looked beautiful and I felt blessed, simply being. I spent the day lazing about, enjoying the beauty of it as much as the absence of chores to take care of after a week full of work that had me crazy busy for days and days.

As evening fell, the blue sky turned lavender, then pink, then finally crimson and red. It was breathtakingly beautiful to watch the sun set. It touched me so deeply that it brought tears to my eyes, tears of bliss and gratitude. Then, suddenly ... BOOM!!! ... out of the blue (or red in this particular case) ... loneliness knocked at my door.

I know that being tired and exhausted is sometimes the point where weakness creeps in — the doubt, sadness or loneliness, whatever — depending on my mood. Normally I am warned and watch it. This time I didn't see it coming though, being not prepared for the sudden ache at all. I'm lucky these days, in so far that I'm almost always aware of it when it happens, and manage to readjust my thinking before it manifests as reality, but being so tired ... this time I really struggled.

So there I was, watching that gloriously beautiful sunset, reluctantly saying hello to loneliness as it slipped through my door. Starting to feel all sorry for myself, turning melancholic and sentimental, I caught myself thinking how sad it was that there was nobody to share this moment of bliss. All of a sudden it was all I could concentrate on. Loneliness. It seemed to flutter around me as if somebody had written those letters into the sky, like butterflies they surrounded me ... L-O-N-E-L-I-N-E-S-S ... in large capital letters, scarlet against the already flaming sky.

Now, go figure! Just a second ago I had been perfectly enjoying that moment — all happy gratefulness, all grateful happiness — and suddenly the same situation managed to bring me down like that. I mean, how silly is that?

Having just watched the documentary "What the Bleep do we know" for the umpteenth time, I was very much aware of how we possibly create our individual realities and knew what I was doing and that I might very well change the situation for myself if I really wanted to. But quite honestly, for a moment it felt good, letting myself drift into sorrow and self-pity. It was just less demanding, less effort, you know?

I could suddenly feel the fatigue in my bones and body and being so immensely tired, surrendered to it. I could feel the loneliness like some kind of physical pain as it started to manifest inside me. It's always the same. It starts in my head, then sinks into my chest and heart, slowly expanding into my tummy where it kind of settles. I feel as if I become heavier and somewhat numb. It's always the same shit and there is just no use in feeling that way. I know that, I do! But it seemed so much easier, letting it settle, sinking into the self-pity and sorrow.

I made a half-hearted attempt to divert my thoughts and jump off that train to nowhere. I tried to phone a few friends — in vain. Nobody answered. I considered going for a walk in the twilight but was too afraid that might just make things worse. So I turned on the computer. I tried to write it all down, hoping to just write it off, that damned loneliness, somehow getting rid of it by describing it like I do now. But there were no words. My mind was blank, empty, tired, sad, melancholic, lonely. Forlorn and forsaken, haha! I logged into myspace, thinking I might just have a little chat there. None of my friends were online. Where was everybody???? Darn it. I changed my status update to "lonely" and logged off, pretty much bathing in self-pity by then.

I got myself some food ... I ate ... alone ... feeling lonely, of course ... poor, pitiful, pathetic little Lilli ... all those lonely meals ... day after day, week after week, month after month. I started to conjure up pictures of how they would turn into years, decades ... forever, maybe?

Then I heard the familiar "pling" of my inbox telling me I had e-mail. I went to look and found a notification from myspace, telling me some friends had sent comments and messages. I logged back in to check.

It's funny – I never think that anybody actually reads those status updates, but quite obviously people do. So I found several concerned and lovely messages, different friends checking in to ask if I were okay, trying to cheer me up, asking if they could be of any help, whether I wanted to talk, if they should phone, telling me they were there if I felt I needed company, however virtual maybe.

Wow, this really touched me. I know I have a lot of friends who care about me. In real life, of course, but also quite a few in the online world. Still, I didn't expect such immediate responses. I know a lot of people are constantly displaying their negative moods in their updates, I hardly ever feel that way, though – and when I do I normally stay away from myspace and other such platforms. Maybe it's due to that that some people get strange ideas about how I am, expecting me to be this eternally blissful and balanced person, in total control of her moods, dealing with everything so serenely. Yes, sometimes I am that person ... but a lot of times I am not. There are more than just a few days when I'm far from having the sun shining out my ... umm ... backside — but normally I'll just deal with it, working on it instead of feeling sorry for myself and being pissed with the world. Normally ... not always. So maybe it was because of that — because of it being somewhat unusual for me to publicly announce I felt lonely — that some friends got back to me promptly. I don't know.

What I do know is that those messages reminded me that I had a choice, after all. The shortest one simply said "Ah, Lilli, don't be lonely!" and it made me pull a wry face at first, giving a somewhat bitter and cynical laugh. Yeah, great advice, thanks ... as if it was up to me ... bullshit ... I felt frustrated, something I rarely experience. And then it dawned on me. It was up to me. That bitter laugh really did it for me, it got me out of it. Suddenly I thought of how I had not been alone for so many years ... how there had been somebody to share those special moments — and how often have we just let them pass. I had to admit to myself that I experienced some of the worst moments of loneliness while being in company, ha! Relationship of any kind certainly doesn't guarantee togetherness. And togetherness again doesn't necessarily eliminate loneliness.

A friend of mine once said: "Loneliness is part of the deal" and I guess he's right. Life is what we make it and so is my aloneness. Quite honestly, on most days I am fully aware of how loneliness has it's beauty as well, if not looked at as being a problem. So the bitter laugh turned into a wholehearted smile and I went to bed — still alone but no longer lonely, falling asleep immediately. It probably was what I should have done right away, when realizing it was fatigue making me so prone to pain.

Looking back now, I can smile again and shake my head at my sudden leap of faith, my silly mood swing ... my sense of reality jumping this way, then that, then back again ... no longer sure it is us adapting to reality but possibly rather reality adapting to us ...

On reed flutes, sugarcane and myself

I am sad. I am upset. I feel lost somehow. Torn. Deep down I'm happy. Deep down I'm blue. I feel as if I'm moving in circles, yet if I look closer I can see they are open spirals, leading me only god knows where ... I experience change and I know it's inevitable ... but to let go of what one held so dear, it's never done easily – I do have faith though, don't get me wrong ... nothing happens without reason, there is meaning in everything we go through and while sometimes we hurt so much, time will always tell and help us understand ... it's that thought I cling to when the pain and disappointment seem so overwhelming at times.

Meanwhile I'm trying to find comfort and balance, and reading Rumi always calms me down. Here is something I came across and somehow it seems to express how I feel, representing my thoughts and emotions so well ... and the last bit of this, the part that starts "Don't come near me!" ... well, it's how it must feel to stand on the other side ... how it must feel to be the other person involved in this separation that still seems so senseless and crazy to me ...

Now, here's "Rumi on Separation" for you:

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The Reed Flute's Song

Listen to the story told by the reed,
of being separated.

"Since I was cut from the reedbed,
I have made this crying sound.

Anyone apart from someone he loves
understands what I say.

Anyone pulled from a source
longs to go back.

At any gathering I am there,
mingling in the laughing and grieving,

a friend to each, but few
will hear the secrets hidden

within the notes. No ears for that.
Body flowing out of spirit,

spirit up from the body: no concealing
that mixing. But it's not given us

to see the soul. The reed flute
is fire, not wind. Be that empty."

Hear the love fire tangled
in the reed notes, as bewilderment

melts into wine. The reed is a friend
to all who want the fabric torn

and drawn away. The reed is hurt
and salve combining. Intimacy

and longing for intimacy, one
song. A disasterous surrender

and a fine love, together. The one
who secretly hears this is senseless.

A tongue has one customer, the ear.
A sugarcane flute has such effect

because it was able to make sugar
in the reedbed. The sound it makes

is for everyone. Days full of wanting,
let them go by without worrying

that they do. Stay where you are
inside such a pure, hollow note.

Every thirst gets satisfied except
that of these fish, the mystics,

who swim a vast ocean of grace
still somehow long for it!

No one lives in that without
being nourished everyday.

But if someone doesn't want to hear
the song of the reed flute,

it's best to cut conversation
short, and say good-bye, and leave.

We know separation so well because we've tasted the union. The reed flute makes music because it has already experienced changing mud and rain and light into sugarcane. Longing becomes more poignant if in the distance you can't tell whether your friend is going away or coming back. The pushing away pulls you in.

Don't come near me!

Sometimes I forget completely
what companionship is
unconscious and insane, I spill sad
energy everywhere. My story
gets told in various ways: a romance,
a dirty joke, a war, a vacancy.

Divide up my forgetfulness to any number,
it will go around.
These dark suggestions that I follow,
are they part of some plan?
Friends be careful. Don't come near me
out of curiosity, or sympathy.

(Rumi)

Anam Cara Friendship (John O'Donohue)

John O'Donohue says:

"In everyone's life there is a great need for an Anam Cara, a soul friend. In this love, you are understood as you are without mask or pretension. The superficial and functional lies and half-truths of acquaintance fall away. You can be as you really are. Love allows understanding to dawn, and understanding is precious. Where you are understood, you are at home. Understanding nourishes belonging. When you really feel understood, you feel free to release yourself into the trust and shelter of the other person's soul.

A way of explaining friendship is that between two people friendship awakened. It wasn't manufactured or produced or programmed, but it awakened between them in their meeting. It was almost as if an ancient affinity that was latent in their spirit comes awake and comes alive, and that each is joined in an ancient way with a friend of their soul. People say that friends are made. I don't think friends are made at all, but rather discovered. If you look back along your life, you will see that at the crucial thresholds, different people were sent to you to help you acknowledge what was going on, to recognize your own responsibility, and to bring you over thresholds. The most creative growth points in our inner journey are all due to the assistance, graciousness and surprise that friendship brings.

Friendship has a secret logic and a secret destiny. Something that's startling about one's friends is that the first meeting was so contingent and so seemingly accidental; and yet, if you look back now, your life would be unimaginable without the friends who have helped to shape you and give birth to your soul. To put it more pictorially still, it's utterly fascinating to me that no human person ever sees their own face. We look in mirrors and we have images, but we never see our own faces. And we never see our own bodies fully either. A friend is a true mirror in which we begin to get some little glimpse of who we are and the immensity that we carry - and that sometimes haunts us. Friendship is the shelter; and it's not a complacent shelter but a shelter that settles some primal restlessness down within us. It liberates us to get into the dance of our own life."

Friend in doubt

Some time ago I was thinking – and writing here – about friendship. I realize that I keep coming back to this subject and I have the slightest suspicion this may be caused by a couple of situations earlier this summer, making me feel the need for honesty and loyalty in a friendship stronger than ever. There have been difficult moments with certain friends and while I considered my reactions to be justified then, I wasn’t so sure when I recalled these incidents later. I still haven’t come to a final conclusion, still find myself uncertain, still find new questions whenever I think I have the answers.

Many rash words have been spoken in the past, leaving a bitter taste in my mouth, and while I wouldn’t say they were all wrong, they were certainly spoken too hastily, too impulsively to be in any way considerate. So I knew my reaction was premature but instead of questioning my own motivation I started to question the concerned relationships, looking for justification of my wrong behaviour. I felt no longer confident about these relationships, my evaluation of these friendships. I thought that maybe the difficult moments could only arise because I had read too much into these relationships, calling them friendship on a very high level, expecting too much input from the other one. I questioned these people’s friendship, their loyalty. I figured that I had reacted the way I did because I felt somewhat 'unrewarded', I felt that my input wasn’t acknowledged the way it should be and that I was giving a lot more than I was receiving in return. This thought occupied me for quite a while and finally led me to wonder whether a true friendship could ever be about expectations, about input or some kind of ’quid pro quo’ situation. This was the moment I started thinking about everything I have written under Friendship, wondering what exactly friendship means to me, what my friends mean to me.

After writing it all down, what happened was that I became much clearer about my own intentions and expectations but also about my mistakes and misconceptions regarding friendship. I could see clearly what friendship should be and what it shouldn’t be and where I needed to become more mindful, more appreciative and more selfless.

What didn’t happen was that I got rid of all my doubts. Some remained. Some friends remained 'under question', even after seeing that friendship is not about expectation, about being rewarded for what I give. It seemed to me that these friendships are somewhat unbalanced. Despite not expecting return services for my loyalty or my faith, I found that I feel uneasy if I keep on offering but am offered nothing in return. Not because of reward. It’s a question of trust, I think. If I look at friendship as being some kind of commitment, how can I listen to a friend’s thoughts, ideas, fears but hardly ever reveal any of my own, keeping my distance. Friends do not need to tell each other everything, I’m sure there are things that are not necessarily part of a friendship and sometimes there may be things one can’t talk about immediately and has to come to terms with for oneself before being able to talk about. But if I feel that there is something wrong in a friend’s behaviour, something troubling him or her, making me feel uneasy or awkward in his or her company over a prolonged time, standing between us, effecting our friendship even, and they still don’t talk to me, don’t I have a right to feel hurt?

I honestly don’t know. I just don’t find an answer. Of course I have to accept a friend’s decision not to tell me, but can I really avoid to become doubtful about such a friendship in the long run? Is it not natural that I start to question a friend if I feel that trust is not mutual in this friendship? How can I help beginning to wonder what the reasons for this may be? If I am not given any real reasons, my mind starts to make up others. I know this is wrong and I try to work on it, try to remain objective, try not to become attached to these thoughts, but it’s not easy. I see that the innocence of this friendship might get lost, so I talk to the person of my doubts but am told in return that I have no reason to worry. I want to believe this – but again, doubt arises. I look into the past to find the moment when things started to change and looking from my new perspective of doubt, I find more doubt. I find signs that it started long before I realized, I find potential untruth and I start to question more and more. I don’t trust my own perception anymore, especially as I know everything I feel is influenced by my recent loss of another person. I know that and I know it's not right, but I feel like I'm in some kind of limbo. I do not want to lose this friendship and much less do I want to harm it unjustified, a friend so dear and important in my life. A special friend. A soul friend maybe.

I have to be careful not to give too much space to this problem – 'constructing a story around it' as we call it at the buddhist center – and I’m well aware this might be just what I’m doing. Sometimes my imagination is way too vivid and I find it hard to differ between what is there in reality and what springs from my own fantasy or past experiences. The longer I let it happen, the more the borders will blur, making it more and more difficult to get back to the hard facts. Yes, a danger foreseen is half avoided – it's just so difficult to put into practice what we already know in theory, isn't it? So many obstacels to be broken ... idleness, fear, ego. And the painful experience of finding all these fears, suspicions and doubts being finally confirmed is still so fresh and hurting that it’s hard too remain objective and stop myself from projecting what happened with one friend onto another.

Despite the many words I know there is only one solution. I know I have to talk to this friend again, being open and honest about my doubts, leaving enough space for understanding and possible explanation on his part and a will to understand and believe as well as the readiness to admit to possible wrong conclusions on my part.

How do I tell a person I have – temporarily maybe – lost faith in his or her loyalty and honesty? Maybe that is the moment true friendship reveals itself, in being able to work this out, to come out even stronger of a crisis like this. Of course this is wishful thinking on my part, especially as I have just learned the hard way that it may also happen quite differently, but what else can I do but remain positive and optimistic? If I’m not, how can I see any sense in a difficult situation, a confrontation like the one I have to seek now or in the future?