It’s a fact that the world is experiencing an epidemic of loneliness.
The world is changing fast, and as it does, we’re experiencing:
- The breakdown of traditional communities
- Smaller families
- More family breakdown
- More people living alone
- Working from home
- Less physical interaction
- Social media replacing real connection
- Greater geographical mobility
It’s a perfect storm for the creation of loneliness.
There’s a lot in the media about the negative effects of loneliness and how it can contribute to:
- Anxiety, depression and even hopelessness
- Feelings of worthlessness and unlovability
- Physical illness
- Impaired cognition
- Poor sleep
But what if the problem isn’t really loneliness?
What if the real problem is the relationship we have with loneliness?
After all, we are born alone and we die alone. Loneliness is a universal human experience, and most people will experience periods of feeling lonely during their lives.
I know I certainly have, and it’s nothing to be ashamed of, but so often we do.
Too often, I read articles based on the assumption that creating more connections outside ourselves will ultimately heal our loneliness.
But what if that is only part of the answer?
External connection can certainly ease loneliness. Loving relationships, friendship and community are important to our wellbeing. But if we are using other people to fill an emptiness within ourselves, those connections can become a temporary solution rather than a lasting one.
What if the deeper cure for loneliness isn’t to be found outside ourselves, but within ourselves?
Because loneliness is not the same as being alone.
A person can live alone and not feel lonely. And conversely, a person can be surrounded by people and still feel profoundly lonely.
For me, loneliness is ultimately about disconnection—from ourselves, from our inner world and from Spirit.
And that is why I say:
The real cure for loneliness is loneliness.
Not running from it.
Not distracting ourselves from it.
Not constantly filling the space with other people.
But learning to sit with it, listen to it and allow it to show us what lies beneath.
Some people feel chronically lonely, while others go through periods of loneliness, often during times of change, loss or transition.
The feeling can be overwhelming, and our natural instinct is often to run from it.
For years, I did exactly that.
I’d do anything not to face the abyss of my own psyche. I kept my diary full and my life busy, but at certain periods of my life I would be gripped by loneliness.
I experienced it:
- When I moved away from my family
- When I lived alone overseas
- After relationship break-ups
- During my marriage
- After having a baby
- After going through a divorce
And I remember the moment I finally woke up.
It was following my divorce.
I was looking outside myself to fill the void through other people and relationships. But I began to realise that these were only quick fixes. They weren’t the answer.
If a friend cancelled on me, I’d feel devastated.
If someone let me down, I’d drop into a depression.
My dependence on other people was only adding to my sense of loneliness. And I knew that if I continued this way, I would always remain vulnerable and needy.
I didn’t want to live that way anymore.
For years, I had been abandoning myself because I was afraid to face my own demons.
And so I stopped.
I stopped running away from myself.
I stopped running away from my loneliness.
Instead, I sat with myself and faced the pain.
I dived right into it.
Head first.
I allowed myself to go as deeply as I could, through layers and layers of pain, fear and old wounds.
I journalled.
I meditated.
I prayed.
I watched the way I judged myself, blamed myself and shamed myself.
There were plenty of tears. There were days when I struggled and sat in the mud of that murky place we call rock bottom.
I made no effort to be social.
I went for walks and connected with nature. I hugged trees and said hello to the birds. I watched sunrises and sunsets.
If I ran into friends or acquaintances, I enjoyed their company. But I made no great effort to socialise.
I was on my own sacred retreat.
And, step by step, day by day, something began to transform.
As I learned to be there for myself at a deeply profound level, everything changed.
A light came in that I had never known before.
I no longer needed love or approval from other people.
I could enjoy it when it was present, but the desperate need for it was no longer there.
Because, finally, I had found the love within myself.
And something interesting happened.
My outer life began to change too.
People seemed to be drawn to me more than ever.
Self-love is an attractive thing.
I was no longer putting out the energy of neediness. I was emanating a sense of wholeness and self-sufficiency.
There is an ancient spiritual principle known as the Law of Correspondence:
“As within, so without.”
Our outer world often reflects what is happening within us.
When we feel empty inside, our lives can feel empty too.
When we begin to fill ourselves with love, acceptance and connection to Spirit, the world can begin to look very different.
This is why I believe loneliness can be a golden opportunity.
An opportunity to begin connecting more deeply with yourself.
To observe your thoughts of self-judgment and unlovability.
To feel the profound experience of being alone.
And to hold yourself with compassion as you face whatever comes up.
And I’m not saying it’s easy.
In fact, this may be some of the hardest work you ever do.
To stop running.
To turn inward.
To face the darkness within.
To discover that the person you have been searching for may be yourself.
Often, when I have suggested this to clients who feel lonely, they will reply:
“Yes, but we’re human, and we all need human connection.”
And I don’t disagree.
We do.
We are social beings, and we thrive when we are surrounded by loving, supportive relationships.
I am not suggesting that anyone should make plans to be alone forever.
What I am suggesting is that we stop seeing loneliness solely as something that needs to be fixed from the outside.
Perhaps loneliness is sometimes an invitation.
An invitation to come home to yourself.
An invitation to discover the places within you that are longing to be loved.
An invitation to reconnect with your own soul and with Spirit.