Feelings of loneliness and fears of isolation sit at the core of being human. These are feelings I and most people are reluctant to embrace at times, feelings that are a necessary part of becoming a complete individual, comfortable with how one lives and with what he or she believes. I think it is the prospect of such loneliness and how one is willing to face it that decides how original and genuine a person’s life can be, and of what lasting importance a person’s accomplishments will have. Anything of any lasting significance has always had to arise against the backdrop of resistance, reluctance, and difference with the consequence that those willing to affect change have been faced with prospects of dire isolation, not only on account of their ideas and beliefs, but on account of the very lifestyle that is inextricably linked to the ideas and beliefs they breed. Yet what is more difficult is that such isolation can cause one to feel isolated from one’s self, isolated from the kind of person one knows themselves to be.

Clichés become clichés for a reason. That nothing is won without sacrifice, despite its common use, is a cliché that has poignant truth to it. Many great writers, artists, musicians, and mystics have suffered bouts of sadness and isolation because the ideas and beliefs they had were so different that they became isolated from many of those around them. Some of these such as Camus, Nietzsche, and Hemingway, were able to give the world something great at the cost of losing themselves. Others such as Bertrand Russell, St. Teresa of Avila, and Ludwig Wittgenstein barely got out alive. Still others such as Carl Jung, the Buddha, or Eckhart Tolle, managed to not only overcome feelings of isolation, but to return and flourish, continuing to give the world something great, and to tell everyone that there are necessary feelings which must be felt and embraced if they are to become something more lasting.

In “The Thin Red Line,” Sean Penn’s character is asked if he ever gets lonely. His reply is, ‘Only around people.’ There is a tinge of pessimism in his response, but there is also a poignant truth. After all, many a sage and mystic have said that the wise person is one who finds the best company to be one’s self. This does not exclude all kinds of social life, but it does exclude one based on co-dependence instead of actual friendship. Such co-dependence relationships are ones where it seems everyone engages in activities they no longer enjoy or find valuable. Yet they continue to engage in them because the alternative would mean isolation. It is as if certain groups act as self-denial support groups where everyone comes to reinforce the illusion that what they are doing is the only outlet, the only answer, and the only way to be happy.

For me it has been frustrating at times knowing that so many people are still content to be occupied with getting drunk, staying out late and sleeping in, eating bad food, or fooling around with people whom they know and care little about. More than frustrating, it is lonely, but it is a loneliness of a different kind, a loneliness that can have the affect of isolating myself not just from other people but from the very person I am; I start to feel estranged from the kind of person I know myself to be.

There are times when I doubt myself. For me these doubts are feelings that I am somehow weird and fucked up for not wanting to engage in or not deriving the same kind of enjoyment from the activities of everyone else; times where I feel I must be strange for wanting to stay in on a Friday night to read a good book around a nice candle, drink some good tea, and go to bed early to seize the next day. There are times when I feel I’m the stranger; times when I convince myself that I must be depressed and pessimistic because I’m unhappy with what’s wanted or expected of me by friends, family, and mass culture.

Faced with such feelings the fight becomes a struggle to remain true to what I know deep down: that my passion and appreciation for all aspects of life is unmatched; that my drive to feel things deeply, openly, and full-heartedly has allowed me to experience the world in a way that most people never or rarely will; and that my desire for truth and lasting peace are the only pursuits I know to be of real value.

I’m quite certain that some people see me not smiling and use it as an excuse to assume that the kind of life I’m living is a sad and pessimistic one. Such people are intent on making such an assumption that they refuse to see how often I can and do smile. There are no illusions; I am not always happy. But those that are afraid to acknowledge loneliness and other feelings are unable to see them as temporary states to something higher. Moreover, it is a sensation, and all sensations are there as guides, they draw one’s attention to things that the body both mentally, physically, and emotionally needs to deal with. Many people, however, think the acknowledgment of unhappiness, dissatisfaction, or loneliness means an existence where such states become permanent characteristics of one’s existence; probably because they struggle to see a bright light at the end of the tunnel.

People sometimes say to me, “I wish I could motivate myself like you. I wish I had your discipline. I wish I had your drive to experience things.” When I ask them why they don’t they usually say they are lazy. But I don’t think laziness is the problem. I think it is feelings of loneliness that have to be overcome, feelings of isolation born of standing outside the crowd, feelings that all great accomplishments have had to arise from. I have known other people who are more open about the possibility of feeling alone and blatantly state that living a different life and making changes would come with price of being lonely, and that such loneliness is not something they are prepared to face. Such people are waiting for others to be the catalyst for change.

A while back I was at a social gathering where I observed two friends engage in what appeared to be a serious conversation over relatively personal matters; their glossy eyes were intent to listen, and the expressions on their faces were devoid of anything that could be said to resemble a smile. As they were talking, a friend came by to take pictures. Once the two people realized they were about to be photographed they turned to the camera with huge smiles. This change from one look to the other was so extreme that I felt I went temporarily mad; it was a kind of lightning flash. After the picture they went back to talking to each other with the same previous barren expressions. It seemed there was such a strong attempt to deny any possibility that they were anything but happy and content; an attempt born of a fear that one might be caught with hard proof in the form of a photograph that one’s life is anything but “picture perfect.”

The incident was extremely profound. I was bewildered by the attempt to hide what was being felt under the guise of a smile that can only be called fake. It is a metaphor for how people can be reluctant to face certain emotions, to hide them from one’s self out of fear and misunderstanding of what emotions are or can be. Feelings of isolation and loneliness are emotions that people run from the most, but they have to be faced at some point. Otherwise who we are will never be able to fully blossom, while those one loves will never be more than tools that one uses to escape feelings of loneliness, a task that in the end cannot fall to anyone other than one’s self.

Quotes.