LIFE LESSONS | LONELINESS

It’s A Gift Or A Curse: 3 Stories About Loneliness And Being Lonely

Being alone can be a blissful or terrifying experience.

Loneliness is almost as prevalent as obesity, according to the research. Millions of people suffer from loneliness and its effects on health. It is a global phenomenon and is like epidemics in the industrialised world.

‘Loneliness has an equivalent risk factor to health as smoking 15 cigarettes a day, shortening one’s lifespan by eight years.’ — Harvard Health Publishing.

The science is precise and paints a grim picture of loneliness.

But there is also another side of it: the blissful sanctum of being alone — if you can choose it instead of being left alone.

First story: when a loved one dies

My late mother was a lonely woman after her husband died after a year-long torturing illness. They had been married since 1939. They had become a unit: a strong and loving item that could survive anything — but death.

She never truly felt content after my father passed away. There was always this sad shadow in her voice. Something was missing, and even though she lived almost 30 years after his passing, she felt like the funeral was just yesterday.

However, my mother was lucky because she had a family and could see her children and grandchildren grow. In many ways, she was happy in her loneliness and longing. It was more sweet than bitter, and she enjoyed her lonely cosy home and frequently visiting relatives.

My mother’s biggest fear was to become dependent on others, bound in a hospital bed and kept alive by doctors but not by the love for life she had lost. She lived independently till her beautiful death with my niece next to her when the moment came.

This story is an example of the bittersweet reality of life. We get old, we will face the deaths of loved ones, and it will prepare us for our end. It is then up to us if we take the bitter or the sweet side of loneliness and loss.

Some people — like my mother — have faith and family, which makes loneliness easier. Those who are not so lucky face another road.

Second story: when there is nobody

Once I sat in a cafe, as I often do, minding my business when I met one of my acquaintances. Let’s call him Dave.

Dave is a palliative care facility nurse and an expert in death. He told me this story.

There was a man in his late 80s. He lived alone until cancer came and took his life.

His last few months were painful, not because of the physical pain but the emotional suffering. His only daughter had not visited him for over 20 years.

Dave told me that there were not any relationship issues or disputes, but it was as if the daughter just was too busy even to call. Six hundred kilometres was too much for the high-flying lawyer daughter to travel.

After the man died, Dave did the paperwork and informed the daughter. She organised the funeral and invited Dave, too. All by efficient emails.

At the funeral home, Dave expected to meet the daughter who had organised everything so well, but she never came.

Instead of any relatives or friends, Dave followed the lonely man’s casket to the crematorium, and the funeral home director greeted him as the son this deceased never had.

Dave shook his head and said, — ‘Who could do such a thing to a parent?’.

I hope not many.

Third story: a young but happily lonely

– ‘I chose to be alone,’ said a young man I met in London a few years ago.

Brendan was very Irish and red-haired, like a flame, with his mane curling on his shoulders. He was a traveller, photographer and loving son.

We met at the interval of the musical Billy Elliot. Two men — alone but not lonely.

After the show, we went to a bar near the Victoria Palace Theatre, just across the tube station.

Brendan was a college dropout who was making his money taking photos. His parents were in their late 50s and living in Dublin. He told me that he had been travelling alone for a few years and loved it.

As the only son, he always made time to call his parents. It was before iPhones and skype, but Brendan was using phone cards and also sent photographs and cards, letters and small gifts from his travels to his parents.

– ‘I go to Dublin a few times a year to spend time with my parents for a couple of weeks until they get fed up feeding me,’ told Brendan with a wink.

I was also voluntarily alone like Brendan. It had been a work trip, and I was missing my young son and wife, but I was happy. I knew they were home waiting for me, and I knew that this time alone in London was a blissful break in my hectic family life.

– ‘We need some breaks from our social circles now and then,’ Brendan said. ‘At least I need time for myself. It’s a luxury when you can choose to be alone and not be forced to loneliness’.

I agreed. Brendan left the bar, and I stayed for a while. It was too late to call home, so I enjoyed a couple of beers and observed British people socialising and desperately trying not to be left alone.

What about me — and you?

I am recovering introvert. I need to be alone. I often escape even my wife to be alone in a cafe. We have an understanding: she is OK with my mistress loneliness. I know it is a luxury, as Brendan pointed out. But it is also my way to be more present when I am with her or my friends.

However, I have become more sensitive to people who don’t have the same freedom of choice. My Buddhist practice has helped me control my selfish need to be left alone and be more generous with my time.

I can donate a few hours of my time to be a friend to somebody who is not as well equipped to be alone.

In a way, I am like a Bill Gates of loneliness: rich like hell, and I have started to realise, like Bill, that it is maybe not a good idea to keep everything to yourself.

So, I try to give some time to those who are not as affluent in the opportunity to be alone but just lonely.

One way of this loneliness philanthropy is to write to you who might read this alone and need some company. So, here I am. I write this alone in a cafe, but I am not lonely — I am with you in my mind.

My loneliness is a bridge I use to travel to my readers, friends and occasional acquaintances. It gives me the energy to be in the company of others. My loneliness is a gift, and I share some of it with those in need, which makes both lives richer.

What is your take on loneliness? Are you rich alone on your own or ravenous to have some company?

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