Wrestling with Loneliness

Note: This entry is based in part on a column I wrote for the Valley Courier.

It seems that I've spent a lot of time in my life wrestling with loneliness. Even when I'm not feeling lonely, I worry about it. The strange thing is that it's not really a fear of being alone. I've been single for a long time, and sometimes I actually enjoy my peaceful solitude without being lonely. And sometimes I can be in the middle of a crowd of people and still feel lonely.

Loneliness can be overwhelming. Many years ago, I read Centennial by James Michener. In it, he tells how early settlers referred to loneliness as being like a raging elephant that strikes terror in our hearts. In fact, many early settlers could not stand the vast emptiness of the wilderness and were driven back “to civilization” because they could not overcome the despair of their loneliness.

While they are entirely different emotions, loneliness can be acerbated by feelings of anxiety, depression, loss and shame. Human beings are social creatures, and we are taught that it is important to be accepted and liked by others, so when we feel as though we are alone in the world, we often believe that it’s because there is something wrong with us.  

Sometimes we feel anxious about meeting new people because we fear they will reject us, or we may feel guilty because we have friends and family nearby, but we still feel as though there’s something missing in our lives. Personally, I even worry that people will sense my desperation and pity me.

One of the ironies I've discovered is that we are not alone when it comes to feeling lonely. Everyone experiences it at some point in their lives, and about one third of the American population struggles with constant feelings of loneliness.

So we will try a lot of different things to avoid being alone. Sometimes people will try to change who they are in order to be accepted by others, and in doing so, discover that it’s possible to feel lonely even when you are with someone.

Others remain in abusive relationships because that seems better than facing the possibility of being alone.

We may even believe that the answer lies in being with that one person who will make us feel loved and fulfilled, but all that really accomplishes is to place the burden of our happiness on someone else’s shoulders. 

I'm discovering that there are some things that may help deal with loneliness. Being active can help; listening to music or reading a good book may help as well. And it does help to become involved in things that interest us – to feel that we are in good company even though we may be alone.

However, researchers have found that being honest and sharing our feelings with others is the most effective way to deal with our loneliness.

Of course, it’s important that the people we share our feelings with listen, understand, and accept our honesty. They need to know we don’t want them to “fix us” by filling the emptiness within us, or even worse, trying to find someone else for us to be with. It just helps to admit what we are feeling and realize it’s okay to feel that way.

Orson Welles once said, “We are born alone, we live alone, we die alone. Only through our love and friendship can we create the illusion that we’re not alone.” And maybe it’s more than an illusion.

Discovering the Journey

Maya Angelou tells the story of how she refused to speak when she was a little girl. She had been raped, and a few days after she told what happened to her and who did it, the body of her assailant was found in a nearby field. From her perspective as a child, she believed her voice held the power of life and death, so she quit talking to make sure she didn’t hurt anyone else.

One morning, her grandmother told her, “Girl, you aren’t fooling me. A lot of people think you’re stupid and you can’t talk, but I know better. You’re smart, and someday you are going to be a great teacher.”

Maya thought to herself, “You don’t even know who you’re talking to. I don’t even speak! How am I ever going to be a great teacher?”

She goes on to explain, “You see, I thought that the person I was at that moment was the person I would always be, but the story of my life hadn’t been written yet, and I was just living in one chapter of that story.”

“The story of your life has not been written yet,” she continues. “Whatever you are experiencing, whoever you feel you are; these things will not always be. No matter how young or old you are, you are just living in the present chapter of your life – but the story of your life has not been written yet. Every day, you are writing a new chapter. Just keep moving forward, and you might be amazed at how that story ends.”

Sometimes I teach composition classes, and the first question my students ask when I give an assignment is, “How long does it have to be?” I always tell them, “As long as it needs to be to say what you want to say,” and then I explain that they are focusing on the wrong thing when they are worrying about the final product when they haven’t even began to write the paper.

I’m beginning to realize that I do the same thing. “The story of your life has not been written yet” has taken on a new meaning for me. Too often, I have been so caught up in trying to decide how my story is going to end that I don’t take the time to discover what it is about. I try to rush headlong into my future without stopping to experience the present.

Each day is a new chapter – a new adventure to be experienced, and a new lesson to be learned. I don’t know where my path may lead, and I won’t know until I open my eyes to where I am.

Finding My True Self

My greatest mistakes were made when I lost sight of my true self. It happened gradually, and I had to reach a point in my life where I could look back without getting caught up in my darkness of my shame before I could see where I went wrong.

I chose a life of service to others, which is not a bad thing. Unfortunately, I got so caught up in serving others that I lost sight of the reasons for what I was doing. Without realizing it, I began to accept the direction that others set for me.

I’ve always wanted to be a teacher, and I worked hard to get my Masters so that I could teach at the college level. I majored in English because I believe that helping others understand the power of words would help empower them to find their true selves – to stand up and work for themselves.

When I graduated, I began working as a “professional part-time instructor.” There simply aren’t enough full-time  positions for the number of talented and skilled teachers available. Life became a struggle for me; it’s difficult to earn enough money to get by as a regular teacher, and even more so as a part-timer. Tenured faculty are more highly-valued than part-time faculty and receive more benefits. Getting tenure became my focus, and I began to lose sight of the real reason I became a teacher – I began to lose sight of myself.

I believe that, if life is not what we want it to be, we need to do something to change it. After years of struggling to survive in a system where more than 80% of the classes are taught by part-time faculty, I decided it was time to do something to change it, and I became active in my union.

Soon, I became so involved in trying to make things better that I no longer even worried about my own needs and desires. Everyone around me either praised me for the work I was doing, or they attacked me for it. I felt that those who attacked me were part of the problem, so even their criticism spurred me to work harder to accomplish what I was working for.

What I didn’t see was that I had now completely lost sight of the person I am. I am a teacher, but that is only part of what I am. I do believe in working to improve the world around us, but that is only part of what I am.

We are not defined by our actions, and our actions should be guided by who we are. Unfortunately, I began to let the work I was doing define who I was, and once that happened, I became an empty shell. I was convinced that I was happy – after all, wasn’t I doing what I wanted to do?

Loneliness is a horrible thing to face, and we are loneliest when we lose touch with ourselves. I tried to convince myself that I really wasn’t alone – after all, I had family, friends and colleagues around me most of the time. But that emptiness could not be ignored, so I began looking for ways to satisfy that gnawing hunger within me.

“My family, friends and colleagues have lives of their own,” I reasoned. “That is why I spend so much time alone.” I didn’t realize that the loneliness had nothing to do with having people around me – it came from losing myself.

I began looking for ways to avoid that emptiness, and I looked in the wrong places. I became obsessed with gambling – attracted more to the feeling that I was surrounded by people than the excitement of the games. I wasn’t alone at the casino, and there was enough noise to help me ignore the emptiness that was within me.

I tried to become what others wanted me to be because I no longer knew who I was. I fought to get tenure, I fought to make positive changes to the system, I gained the trust of my colleagues, and then I betrayed that trust because of my obsessive gambling.

And I lost everything that I had fought for, but in doing so, I re-discovered my true self.

I didn’t do it alone. My family knows who I truly am, and they stood by me. A few of my friends and colleagues found it in their hearts to forgive me even before I was able to forgive myself.

But, my best friend is the one who held up the light for me. She led me through my darkness and helped me find the path to discovering my true self. She helped me overcome my fear of facing the truth and I discovered its beauty.

It wasn’t easy to let go of the illusions I had created, but I had to in order to find the truth of who and what I am. It wasn’t easy to let go of the burden of guilt that I carried, but I couldn’t move on until I found a way to forgive myself.

There are those who haven’t forgiven me, and I understand. They resent the happiness I have found because they feel I haven’t suffered enough, and sometimes they try to bring me back down. But I have found my true self, and I’m growing to know and love myself more and more each day.

My actions do not define who I am. I will not – I cannot let my past mistakes define who I am.

My true self is now in control of my actions, and while I still make mistakes, they are made in an effort to better understand who I am – and they are a lot easier to live with. It may seem that I am still alone, and there are times when waves of loneliness sweep over me and carry me into my darkness, but I can always find my way back because now I know myself better. Besides, my best friend is still holding the light for me when I need to find my way.

My first book has just been published, and it marks the beginning of a new life for me. I am still teaching, but I have re-discovered my purpose in doing so. I still strive to make the world a better place, but that is my purpose – not seeking the approval of others.

Reflections on Love

I just began reading Paulo Coelho's By the River Piedra I Sat Down and Wept, and I'm struck by the depth of his understanding and the skill with which he expresses himself. I'll be reading along, entranced by the story, and then suddenly something he writes will leap from the page and make me stop and reflect. He is a new "favorite writer." I've just finished reading The Alchemist, and wanted to read more of his work.

For a couple of years now, I’ve been wrestling with a question that I haven’t even been able to find the words to express. When I started reading Coelho’s book, I began to feel I'd find the answer, or at least a way to express the question. Already, the thoughts and questions that have been swirling around in my heart are beginning to take form.

What happens if you love someone completely, truly, and with all your heart -- but that person is unable to return your feelings, or if they do, their love for you takes a different form? I've always wanted to believe that true love wins out, but experience has taught me that is not always how it goes -- in fact, it is rare when it does happen. I am a good person, and I know that I deserve to be loved. In fact, I know there are a lot of people who truly and deeply love me – it’s just not in “that way.”

Coelho’s book is a love story, but it's unlike any love story that I've read before. He explores the spiritual aspects of love -- "The more we love, the closer we come to spiritual experience," he writes. He talks about how sometimes we try to define love, but it cannot be clearly defined because in each instance, it is different -- and it is always changing. It grows when we accept it for what it is and allow our spirits to grow with it, and it withers when we try to direct it. "We suffer because we feel we are giving more than we receive. We suffer because our love is going unrecognized. We suffer because we are unable to impose our own rules," Coelho writes. "But ultimately, there is no good reason for our suffering, for in every love lies the seed of our growth."

This is the source of my fear when it comes to giving my love. What if I love completely and without reservation, and that love is not returned? Even worse, what if it is returned, but not in the way that I am hoping for – What if my love causes pain for the other person because they are unable to return it?

And I am terrified that there will come a day when I, once again, have to face the inevitability of losing the person I love -- that I will once again have to accept the reality that, no matter how much we love, we can't force another to return those feelings. And sometimes good people are left alone and lonely.

In the Introduction of the book, Coelho writes, "True love is an act of total surrender," and when I read those words, a wave of fear washed over me. That's when I knew that I would find the truth I've been looking for, and I wasn't certain that I'm ready to face it.

And now, I think I’m beginning to understand. Love isn't about what we receive -- it's about what we give. Coelho says, "We love because Love sets us free, and we say things that we once never even had the courage to whisper to ourselves."

And it's not necessary to have our love returned to us in order to be freed by it. When we love another completely and unconditionally, their happiness becomes the most important thing for us. Instead of resenting others that may make them happy, we truly celebrate their joy.

Of course, it does hurt when we give love without receiving it in return, or we see someone we love find happiness in another’s arms, but even that pain is part of the experience that frees us. Once we accept it, even the pain reminds us that we are alive and experiencing the greatest of all of the emotions.

A mother's love gives her the strength to sacrifice everything for the well-being of her child. It was through the pure love of God that Christ sacrificed himself for us.

When we open ourselves to the possibilities of our love -- when we surrender completely to it -- our spirits are set free. And if we are very, very fortunate, the person we are giving our love to will find a way to surrender to their love for us -- and both spirits will soar in the freedom of that love. But, it has to be experienced -- not feared. It has to be left free to grow in whichever direction it may take, not forced along a path that is not natural for it.

And, if in the end, the other person is unable to return it or give in to it completely, it has still brought the life and joy of being complete.

Why I Teach

During one of her many lecture tours, Maya Angelou said that many people have considered her a writer who teaches, but she always thought of herself as a teacher who writes. The power of that simple statement struck me. After all that she has accomplished in her life as a writer, poet, Civil Rights activist, and performer, she placed more value in being a teacher.

Sometimes I’m asked why I chose to be a teacher. Usually, there is a negative tone to the question – as though I’m being asked why I did something foolish. They might as well ask, “What were you thinking?”

For years, I’ve tried to find ways to justify my choice. I’ll say things like, “Teachers have made a positive difference in my life, and I want to make a positive difference in other people’s lives”; “I believe that education is important in our society, and I want to be part of the answer”; or “The rewards of being a teacher are more valuable to me than money or recognition.”

While these are all true, and they are all part of the answer, but they aren’t the main reason I became a teacher. I teach because it is such a fundamental part of my true self that I can’t ignore it. I’ve held different positions and achieved some things that I am very proud of, but when I am not teaching, I feel like something important is missing from my life.

I chose to teach English because I love helping people discover the magic of writing and reading. It is through these two activities more than any others that we learn about ourselves. When we go through the process of writing, we discover thoughts and feelings within us that we never knew were there. We learn more about ourselves, and in doing so, we often find our personal worth. Writing about the darkness within us can bring it out into the light and help us heal. It can empower us.

And when we read, we discover that there are others like us, that we are not alone. We read, and we feel like the authors are talking about us. Even when writers describe people and places that seem strange to us, when they do so effectively, we realize that we truly have many things in common, and we no longer feel like strangers.

I feel fulfilled when I help others make these discoveries, whether it's a student in one of my classes or a friend I'm talking to. It’s taken me more than twenty years to realize that, as much as I love the classroom, there are other ways to teach.

And I’ve realized that the most important thing I can do as a teacher is point others toward their own paths to discovering their authentic selves.

That’s not to say that I have reached the end of my journey. Perhaps there is no end to learning about who we are. I've only just discovered the importance of taking the journey.

The Eagle and the Chickens

Many years ago, I heard a story that I like to share with my students.

Once upon a time, an eaglet fell from its nest. A farmer was working in his fields, saw the baby eagle, and took it home to nurse it back to health.

Some time passed, and a naturalist travelling through the area saw a huge eagle among this farmer's chickens, so he rushed to the farmhouse, pounded on the door, and shouted, "Farmer! There's an eagle with your chickens!"

The farmer came to the door and calmly said, "That's not an eagle. That's a chicken."

The naturalist was stunned. "Look, I've studied nature my whole life. I even have a college degree! I know the difference between and eagle and a chicken, and there is an eagle with your chickens!"

"No, he thinks he's a chicken, so he's a chicken," the farmer answered.

"That doesn't make sense," said the naturalist, so the farmer led him to the field to watch, and sure enough, the big, beautiful eagle was scratching and pecking just like the chickens.

"See, he thinks he's a chicken, so he's a chicken," the farmer repeated.

"That's just not right," the naturalist said. "Give me a chance to show him that he's an eagle."

"Go ahead."

So, the naturalist picked the eagle up, looked into its eyes, and said, "Eagle! Thou art an eagle. Unfold thy wings and fly."

Then he threw the eagle into the air. The eagle simply fluttered around and returned to resume scratching an pecking with the chickens.

"See. He thinks he's a chicken," the farmer repeated.

"Let me have another chance," the naturalist asked.

"Go ahead."

This time the naturalist carried the eagle to the top of the farmhouse, looked it in the eye, and said, "Eagle! Thou art an eagle. Unfold thy wings and fly!" Then he threw the eagle off of the roof.

The eagle fluttered around, saw the chickens, and returned to the ground to scratch and peck.

Once again, the farmer pointed out, "See. He thinks he's a chicken."

The naturalist thought for a minute, and then he said, "Give me one more chance to show him he's an eagle," and the farmer agreed.

The next day, before the sun came up, the naturalist drove to a mountain top. As the sun began to peek over the horizon, the naturalist took the eagle by the beak and forced him to face the dawn. "Eagle," he whispered in the great bird's ear, "Thou art an eagle. Unfold thy mighty wings, and fly!"

Then he threw the eagle off of the cliff. The eagle began to flutter, searching for his companions, the chickens, and then he looked into the sun, unfolded his wings, and soared into the sunrise.

After I tell this story, I say, "When I first heard this story, I thought I was the eagle, but over the years, I realize that I'm the naturalist. You are the eagles, and it's my responsibility to make you look into the sun, unfold your wings, and fly.

Coming Home

I returned to live in the San Luis Valley of southern Colorado last June, and while I have enjoyed most of the places I’ve lived, it feels great to be back home again. I left more than twenty years ago to earn my MA in English. After a short stint as an assistant manager at a large travel stop, I began my teaching career, and for more than seventeen years, I struggled to survive as a “professional part-time instructor” before landing a full-time faculty position. A lot of people are shocked to learn that more than 80 percent of college classes are taught by adjunct, or part-time, instructors, and the competition for full-time positions can take an excruciating toll. Finally, after a career that spanned three states and included teaching for seven institutions of higher learning, I landed a position as a full-time, tenure-track instructor. I felt this was the culmination of my hopes and dreams. The tenure process is much more grueling than most people realize. While each state and institution has its own set of guidelines, they all strive to assure that those who are granted tenure will maintain high standards of learning. In my case, I worked with a committee comprised of three faculty members (one from our division, one selected by the union, and one that I chose), an administrator, and a student. For three years, they observed my classes, conducted student evaluations, and offered constructive criticism and guidance. Unfortunately, in spite of my tenure committee’s unanimous recommendation that I be granted tenure, the school’s Board of Trustees rejected my application and gave me an additional year to work on an improvement plan. That’s when my world began to collapse. I had to face a gambling problem and some terrible choices that I made to support that habit. That January, I almost lost both of my parents and flew back to Colorado so that I could spend what I thought were their last days with them.   The timing couldn’t have been worse. I left at the same time my tenure committee was scheduled to make their final recommendation, but my family came first. Fortunately, my parents were stubborn enough to pull through and are doing fine, but a few weeks after I returned, I was given the choice between resigning or having my tenure application rejected. My best friend, Diane, saw my struggles and took me to a ranch where she was taking riding lessons. On that first day, I simply helped lead the horses from their pastures to their stables and watched Diane as she rode, but being near the horses fed a part of my soul that I had ignored for too long. I went back to the ranch a week later and paid for a private lesson. As soon as I sat in the saddle, everything became clear to me. It had been more than 20 years since I had been on a horse, and I had forgotten the feeling that I get when I’m in the saddle. For years, I had believed that my life was complete and that I had everything I wanted, but when I sat in the saddle that day, I realized that I had become so caught up in my day-to-day life that I had somehow lost sight of who I am. I no longer knew what I wanted out of life. I realized that I needed to be in a place where I could have a horse beneath me and the Rockies at my back, and I decided it was time for me to return to my roots and to find my real, authentic self.   It was hard to leave Seattle. I had made a lot of friends, and all three of my daughters, as well as my two granddaughters, live in Washington State. At that time, I believed it would mean an end to my career as a teacher, and I was afraid that it meant walking away from a relationship that had become very important to me, but I knew it was a move I had to make.   I have had some critics say that I was running away from my problems and not facing up to the mistakes I had made, but I felt like I was moving toward my future. To many people, it seemed that once I made the decision, things just fell into place for me. The fact is that the huge issues and problems I had been dealing with didn’t simply disappear, but I realized that nothing would change unless I did things differently. I worked to the end of my contract and used that time to gain a better understanding of who I am and what I want to accomplish with my life. My sister helped me find the cabin I now live in, so I had a place to go. I brought only the possessions I could get into my van, and when I got to Colorado, I started building a new life from scratch. The first thing I did was to get ready for a horse. I began looking for a place to keep him. I heard that feed is pretty scarce this year, so I bought enough hay and oats to feed two horses for a year. A few people felt it was strange that I bought feed and found a place to keep a horse when I didn’t even own one, but I didn’t want to own a horse and not be able to take care of it. Now I begin my day sitting next to the river and enjoying the peaceful sounds of the morning. I spend as much time in the saddle as I possibly can, and I get to see my parents often. I’m currently teaching for Adams State University, and in a few months, Abbott Press will be publishing a collection of my poems and columns. I plan to follow that with a novel that I’m working on. And my best friend is still an important part of my life.   I’ve re-discovered myself, and I’m getting to know myself better every day. It feels good to be home again.