On Loneliness
It's not every day that I even consider that I live my life alone, and the thought of "loneliness" does not creep into my mind so regularly as to cause me great concern. There are the times: the nights mostly, or those moments of standing before sheer beauty-of a place, of a sound, of a feeling, and wanting someone with whom to share that moment. As the Bishop Lang poem recounts, it's "someone in daily nearness to love." That is precisely it, the daily nearness: not in the spectacular, but in the mundane. It's the tuesday afternoons, not the Saturday mornings, that I recognize that I have either failed to maintain that kind of relationship, or lost them to death or disaster, or simply misplaced the relationship by neglect. At my age now, I am beginning to absolve myself of any guilt for not being in a loving relationship, with the excuse that it is too late now: who would want me now? Why would they possibly want someone as opinionated, stubborn, determined and worn as me? I moved to the "damaged" shelf a few years ago, and so I am suspect of anyone who shows interest, much to my own displeasure with that thought. I think of this poem nearly every day:
"in the quiet of his bachelor days,
of friends, he had many;
of work, he had too much,
but,
at the point when he walked through the door,
and went into that house,
and left friends and work at the garden gate;
it is lonely;
the absence of
someone
in daily nearness
to love.
And, brother,
it is lonely. "
Bishop Lang
And, my friends and my work, and my faith sustain me, and feed me-yes, much.
BUT, when at the garden gate-----there are not enough books, or songs, or prayers or websites, or movies or TV to fill that void.
I begin to miss, no, to LONG for those whom I have loved, and who have loved me. The faces I have kissed, the hands held, the sound of the other heartbeat next to mine- being missed, being remembered, being "real" to someone else. I feel my heart begin to crack open, and tears begin to well. So, then, in those moments: I am fully alive.
"to transform the emptiness of loneliness to the fullness of aloneness, that is the secret of life."
"to dare to live alone is the rarest courage; sure there are many who had rather meet their bitterest enemy in the field, than their own hearts in their closet."--Charles Caleb Colton
"Pray that your loneliness may spur you on to finding something to live for, great enough to die for." Dag Hammerskjold
"we are all lonely for something we don't know. We're lonely for how else to explain the curious feeling that goes around feeling like missing somebody we've never met? " David Foster Wallace
"Love is rare, life is strange, nothing lasts, people change.
Every time I've lost another lover, I call up my old friend,
and I say, let's get together, I'm under the weather,
another love has come to an end.
And she listens as I tell her my sad story,
and wonders at my taste in friends,
and we ponder why I do it, and the pain of getting through it,
and she laughs and says, "you'll do it again,"
but we sit in a bar and talk till 2,
about life and love,
as old friends do;
and tell each other what we've been through
how
love is rare,
life is strange
nothing lasts
people change.
And I ask her if her life is ever lonely,
and if she ever feels despair
and she says she's learned to love it,
cause that's really all part of it,
and it helps her feel the good times
when they are there.
Yes, we sit in the bar, and talk till 2,
about life and love as old friends do
and tell each other what we've been through
how love is rare,
life is strange,
nothing lasts,
people change;
And we wonder if I'll live with any lovers,
or spend my life alone,
and the bartender is dozing,
and it's getting time for closing,
and we figure that I'll go it
on my own
but, we'll meet the year we're 62,
and travel the world as old friends do
and tell each other what we've been through,
how
love is rare
life is strange
nothing lasts
people change.
Old friend.
-S. Sondheim
No, I do not become consumed by loneliness OFTEN, but, yes, there are times.
I can separate the moments of solitude, which I cherish, with those famines of loneliness.
"in the quiet of his bachelor days,
of friends, he had many;
of work, he had too much,
but,
at the point when he walked through the door,
and went into that house,
and left friends and work at the garden gate;
it is lonely;
the absence of
someone
in daily nearness
to love.
And, brother,
it is lonely. "
Bishop Lang
And, my friends and my work, and my faith sustain me, and feed me-yes, much.
BUT, when at the garden gate-----there are not enough books, or songs, or prayers or websites, or movies or TV to fill that void.
I begin to miss, no, to LONG for those whom I have loved, and who have loved me. The faces I have kissed, the hands held, the sound of the other heartbeat next to mine- being missed, being remembered, being "real" to someone else. I feel my heart begin to crack open, and tears begin to well. So, then, in those moments: I am fully alive.
"to transform the emptiness of loneliness to the fullness of aloneness, that is the secret of life."
"to dare to live alone is the rarest courage; sure there are many who had rather meet their bitterest enemy in the field, than their own hearts in their closet."--Charles Caleb Colton
"Pray that your loneliness may spur you on to finding something to live for, great enough to die for." Dag Hammerskjold
"we are all lonely for something we don't know. We're lonely for how else to explain the curious feeling that goes around feeling like missing somebody we've never met? " David Foster Wallace
"Love is rare, life is strange, nothing lasts, people change.
Every time I've lost another lover, I call up my old friend,
and I say, let's get together, I'm under the weather,
another love has come to an end.
And she listens as I tell her my sad story,
and wonders at my taste in friends,
and we ponder why I do it, and the pain of getting through it,
and she laughs and says, "you'll do it again,"
but we sit in a bar and talk till 2,
about life and love,
as old friends do;
and tell each other what we've been through
how
love is rare,
life is strange
nothing lasts
people change.
And I ask her if her life is ever lonely,
and if she ever feels despair
and she says she's learned to love it,
cause that's really all part of it,
and it helps her feel the good times
when they are there.
Yes, we sit in the bar, and talk till 2,
about life and love as old friends do
and tell each other what we've been through
how love is rare,
life is strange,
nothing lasts,
people change;
And we wonder if I'll live with any lovers,
or spend my life alone,
and the bartender is dozing,
and it's getting time for closing,
and we figure that I'll go it
on my own
but, we'll meet the year we're 62,
and travel the world as old friends do
and tell each other what we've been through,
how
love is rare
life is strange
nothing lasts
people change.
Old friend.
-S. Sondheim
No, I do not become consumed by loneliness OFTEN, but, yes, there are times.
I can separate the moments of solitude, which I cherish, with those famines of loneliness.
posted by Downtown Don Simmons at
1:53 PM
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