When you are a performer, like me, you are always aiming for a solo. You are always dreaming of going out on your own, center stage, spotlight on, every mind in the audience focused, for a few moments on your gift. Spotlights are not easily shared among artists of any kind, and I would be lying to say I do not long for that feeling, the adrenaline of knowing you can't mess up, the affirmation of applause. In our own way, I think we all search for our own spotlight, regardless of where the curtain may be.
I started thinking about this tonight as I was unable to get to sleep. The idea of doing something alone. The idea of getting all the credit. Sure, it might be a great feeling for five minutes, but it is no way to live your life. Even Miss "Center of Attention," Bre understands this all too well.
I have been in a very low place in my life lately. Not that anything is necessarily going wrong, but just high-stress, physically exhausted, and frustrated with my current place in life. Not that I'm complaining about any of these things. Not necessarily that I am unhappy, but overly extended and stressed beyond what I feel my body is able to handle. Too many things to be done in days that seem to pass like light years. Nevertheless the greatest enemy I have to combat daily isn't College Algebra or Psychological Statistics, it isn't the annoying doctor's visits to fulfill all my requirements for nursing school. Rather it is loneliness.
Mother Theresa once said that, "loneliness is the greatest poverty." That is saying something who devoted her entire life to living among the poorest people on planet earth. Even she recognized that that which bankrupts your spirit is far more painful than that that bankrupts your wealth. Humans were made for relationship, it's built into our DNA...it goes all the way back to Eden. God did not make us to live alone, in a box, or continually center-stage without other players in the production of life. This feeling pervades more now than I can remember at any other stage in my life. Maybe it is because so many friends are getting married and starting their own lives, or perhaps because I am back in a vulnerable place living at home, maybe it's just a lack of sleep or lack of carbohydrates in my diet. Regardless of what it is, it is hard to get away from the burning longing for companionship, to have someone to share life with, to talk to, to laugh with.
Henry Rollins said, "Loneliness adds beauty to life. It puts a special burn on sunsets and makes night air smell better." I don't know if I necessarily agree with him because right now the night air isn't smelling any too sweet, but I do believe that the feeling of loneliness reminds us of our mortality, of our need for people and makes us pause before we neglect the people and relationships we have been blessed with in life. What is so remarkable about my feelings of loneliness is the volume of people in my life who care about me. I can be in a room full of 300 people who genuinely care about and love me, but still feel absolutely, intrinsically alone. As if the type of companion I am looking for cannot be found in an ordinary group of people. Am I looking for someone who shares the same soul-feelings I do? Or is it something spiritual? Is it mystic in its origins? I think it might be a combination of all three.
I have a bicycle. Anyone who lives nearby probably has heard me singing the songs of "Glee" riding down the road on my white and teal Schwinn with a white basket on a summer evening. Very few days go by in the summer that I do not spend time riding my bicycle. I guess you could say it is one of the few places I can escape these haunting feelings of loneliness. Where I live is at the base of a hill. In order for me to bike anywhere, I have to start by riding up a fairly steep hill for several blocks. Once I get past the hill, there are several more housing editions built on the extension of this hill that make up my bike route. There have been so many times I have taken out on my bike-ride and wanted to turn around and go home. Days when I am tired, or am focusing on the cares of life rather than enjoying the nature around me, the music in my ears, and the lack of real-life on my bicycle. Riding uphill is not fun, it hurts my knees, it strains my thighs, it makes my lungs burn for air...it's hard, and if all biking were uphill I probably would just put the Schwinn in storage I hate to say.
Sometimes I feel like my entire life is uphill. Friends disappoint you, relationships don't work out, the stresses of work and school seem to overwhelm you, you spend more time with your parents now than you did when you were ten it seems. (not saying that's a bad thing, love you mom and dad!) But you feel alone. Like there is no one else in the world that understands what it is like to be singing a solo aria for 25 years on end, to be riding a bike up a steep hill with no relief in site. Let me tell you about the rest of my bike ride...
After I finish my lap through the city park and the two housing editions on the hill a few times, I start to get excited. For a mile and a half, from my mom's parents house to my dad's parents house, I don't ride my bike. I glide, barely ever peddling down the hills I have just climbed. The light breeze on a hot summer day whipps my hair out of my face, and to compare that feeling, I might as well be flying. There is little I could compare this feeling to. I ride probably thirty minutes for the euphoria of the five where I get to ride downhill, but that's enough. I get through with my ride ready to workout again, not because I've burned calories, but because of how it makes me feel. To accomplish something, to trade something hard for something exhilarating.
Here's the thing. Just like riding my bike. Life isn't going to be downhill the whole way. Sure, we might wish it was, but that just isn't how life works. Right now I have to admit, I feel like I've been going solo, riding uphill for a long time, with little relief in sight. I get tired, worn out, sometimes wonder why I even try working as hard as I do without stopping. I miss my friends who are married, I wish I were in love...but once I get off my soap box long enough to think I could realize what Paul Tillich once said so beautifully, "Language...has created the word "loneliness" to express the pain of being alone. And it has created the word "solitude" to express the glory of being alone."
How long has it been since I truly rejoiced in my current place in life? That I am without attachment and could devote myself fully to being the best at what I do and who I am to be? To truly make a difference for the Kingdom of God as a single 20-something year old girl? To not worry about taking care of those to whom I am attached, but to dedicate my life to celebrating the downhill ride that will come if I wait out this time of testing, of loneliness?
So here I am, 1:10 am, I need to be asleep. I have a lot of work to do tomorrow, a lot of peddling uphill. So I will leave it at that. There isn't necessarily a happy resolution to my words tonight because I need to practice what I preach. I need to rejoice in solitude...but it is so hard. I will, however tell you one thing:
Hindsight is always 20/20. And I wouldn't enjoy riding downhill nearly as much if my muscles weren't aching from the strain they went through to get me to the top of that hill. Those trough periods make us who we are. To skip over them would be grave...as hard as it is for me to say this.
Thats all.
I started thinking about this tonight as I was unable to get to sleep. The idea of doing something alone. The idea of getting all the credit. Sure, it might be a great feeling for five minutes, but it is no way to live your life. Even Miss "Center of Attention," Bre understands this all too well.
I have been in a very low place in my life lately. Not that anything is necessarily going wrong, but just high-stress, physically exhausted, and frustrated with my current place in life. Not that I'm complaining about any of these things. Not necessarily that I am unhappy, but overly extended and stressed beyond what I feel my body is able to handle. Too many things to be done in days that seem to pass like light years. Nevertheless the greatest enemy I have to combat daily isn't College Algebra or Psychological Statistics, it isn't the annoying doctor's visits to fulfill all my requirements for nursing school. Rather it is loneliness.
Mother Theresa once said that, "loneliness is the greatest poverty." That is saying something who devoted her entire life to living among the poorest people on planet earth. Even she recognized that that which bankrupts your spirit is far more painful than that that bankrupts your wealth. Humans were made for relationship, it's built into our DNA...it goes all the way back to Eden. God did not make us to live alone, in a box, or continually center-stage without other players in the production of life. This feeling pervades more now than I can remember at any other stage in my life. Maybe it is because so many friends are getting married and starting their own lives, or perhaps because I am back in a vulnerable place living at home, maybe it's just a lack of sleep or lack of carbohydrates in my diet. Regardless of what it is, it is hard to get away from the burning longing for companionship, to have someone to share life with, to talk to, to laugh with.
Henry Rollins said, "Loneliness adds beauty to life. It puts a special burn on sunsets and makes night air smell better." I don't know if I necessarily agree with him because right now the night air isn't smelling any too sweet, but I do believe that the feeling of loneliness reminds us of our mortality, of our need for people and makes us pause before we neglect the people and relationships we have been blessed with in life. What is so remarkable about my feelings of loneliness is the volume of people in my life who care about me. I can be in a room full of 300 people who genuinely care about and love me, but still feel absolutely, intrinsically alone. As if the type of companion I am looking for cannot be found in an ordinary group of people. Am I looking for someone who shares the same soul-feelings I do? Or is it something spiritual? Is it mystic in its origins? I think it might be a combination of all three.
I have a bicycle. Anyone who lives nearby probably has heard me singing the songs of "Glee" riding down the road on my white and teal Schwinn with a white basket on a summer evening. Very few days go by in the summer that I do not spend time riding my bicycle. I guess you could say it is one of the few places I can escape these haunting feelings of loneliness. Where I live is at the base of a hill. In order for me to bike anywhere, I have to start by riding up a fairly steep hill for several blocks. Once I get past the hill, there are several more housing editions built on the extension of this hill that make up my bike route. There have been so many times I have taken out on my bike-ride and wanted to turn around and go home. Days when I am tired, or am focusing on the cares of life rather than enjoying the nature around me, the music in my ears, and the lack of real-life on my bicycle. Riding uphill is not fun, it hurts my knees, it strains my thighs, it makes my lungs burn for air...it's hard, and if all biking were uphill I probably would just put the Schwinn in storage I hate to say.
Sometimes I feel like my entire life is uphill. Friends disappoint you, relationships don't work out, the stresses of work and school seem to overwhelm you, you spend more time with your parents now than you did when you were ten it seems. (not saying that's a bad thing, love you mom and dad!) But you feel alone. Like there is no one else in the world that understands what it is like to be singing a solo aria for 25 years on end, to be riding a bike up a steep hill with no relief in site. Let me tell you about the rest of my bike ride...
After I finish my lap through the city park and the two housing editions on the hill a few times, I start to get excited. For a mile and a half, from my mom's parents house to my dad's parents house, I don't ride my bike. I glide, barely ever peddling down the hills I have just climbed. The light breeze on a hot summer day whipps my hair out of my face, and to compare that feeling, I might as well be flying. There is little I could compare this feeling to. I ride probably thirty minutes for the euphoria of the five where I get to ride downhill, but that's enough. I get through with my ride ready to workout again, not because I've burned calories, but because of how it makes me feel. To accomplish something, to trade something hard for something exhilarating.
Here's the thing. Just like riding my bike. Life isn't going to be downhill the whole way. Sure, we might wish it was, but that just isn't how life works. Right now I have to admit, I feel like I've been going solo, riding uphill for a long time, with little relief in sight. I get tired, worn out, sometimes wonder why I even try working as hard as I do without stopping. I miss my friends who are married, I wish I were in love...but once I get off my soap box long enough to think I could realize what Paul Tillich once said so beautifully, "Language...has created the word "loneliness" to express the pain of being alone. And it has created the word "solitude" to express the glory of being alone."
How long has it been since I truly rejoiced in my current place in life? That I am without attachment and could devote myself fully to being the best at what I do and who I am to be? To truly make a difference for the Kingdom of God as a single 20-something year old girl? To not worry about taking care of those to whom I am attached, but to dedicate my life to celebrating the downhill ride that will come if I wait out this time of testing, of loneliness?
So here I am, 1:10 am, I need to be asleep. I have a lot of work to do tomorrow, a lot of peddling uphill. So I will leave it at that. There isn't necessarily a happy resolution to my words tonight because I need to practice what I preach. I need to rejoice in solitude...but it is so hard. I will, however tell you one thing:
Hindsight is always 20/20. And I wouldn't enjoy riding downhill nearly as much if my muscles weren't aching from the strain they went through to get me to the top of that hill. Those trough periods make us who we are. To skip over them would be grave...as hard as it is for me to say this.
Thats all.
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