Alone/Lonely

Today is just going to be one of those wonderfully lazy autumn like days. I'm going blackberry picking later with a friend and then we are going to bake pies later in the evening. Until then, I thought I would jot down a few thoughts that came to me after reading Ann Spam's post today and Jessi's Don Quixote piece from a few days ago.

There is a big difference between being alone and being lonely. For some the thought of not having people around is terrifying and they assume that people that are alone must also be lonely. It is unhealthy to always be alone and you can tell when people are lacking in fellowship with others. But there is a distinction between being alone and being isolated. These are qualitative differences. If you lock yourself in a high tower and watch TV or continually surf the internet or spend all your time with your eyes in a palantir, then you are not really alone but wrestling with a shadow of real human communion.

I guess to me there is no such thing as being alone alone. There is always the wind, the trees, ideas, good music. These things are like food for the spirit and I refuse to believe post modern cultural critics when they asserts that the individual Subject is dead or illusionary. For all those people running around performing for or worshiping other men I can perhaps understand their terror at coming to grips with their own self. The self can be a scary thing. If your bored your not alone, if your restless, or lusty, or writing on a blog, your not alone. Being alone for me at least is when I clear my mind of all worldly things and look towards the otherworldly. Or God shows me, individually how blessed I really am and how much farther I have to walk to be entirely in Him. People are a gift from God to individuals and I am continually amazed by the people He puts in my life. Even the people that I think are bad at first are blessings. But the most special relationship to me is the one between my soul alone and the Creator of all things. And I am just beginning to revel in that, and that to me is exciting.

My upstairs neighbors got home from a weekend trip last night and Beth knocked on my door. "Matt did you clean the lobby?" She asked. "Yeah I did." "Oh thank you. Thank you. It looks so good." "Yeah, thanks. I went on a cleaning spree this weekend." She looked at me with concern, "Aww, where you lonely?" I smiled and laughed, "No, no, it wasn't anything like that. I cleaned up for company."

I can't really ever remember being lonely. And as hokey as it sounds, the famous poem, Footprints, means a lot to me.