I walk a lot. In my travels, I notice people who I see often - walking always by themselves. Some I notice come into some of my favourite coffee haunts. They sit by themselves slowly pouring over the daily paper or stare into space watching the minutes tick by.
Loneliness is a curse when it is the pervasive reality of life. Each of us can feel this way from time to time. Some of us avoid that feeling through constant business whether it is activity, watching TV or persistent social media involvement. Loneliness is a natural emotion that we all experience at various times. It might be when the children move out, your spouse is away, friends aren't around or even on days when life just feels a little distant.
For many, loneliness is a disease that comes particularly in the older years. Disconnection occurs as children move away, spouses pass on and friends die. Ours is a society in which new connections can be challenging. Have you noticed that, as loneliness creeps in, the ability to connect, get out there, diminishes?
What happens when we say hello to some of the people that we see by themselves often? It is an experiment I'm trying (well sort of an experiment). I've started saying hello to homeless, people along my walks and the ones that I see in the coffee shop alone. Most respond although a few look down or away.
In meditation, when we find that lonely spot within ourselves, we can have empathic connection with others living at the margins in some ways. Compassion for self is the source of empathy for others.
He accomplished nothing today,
as usual.
Nothing was his mundane ritual.
In it was sleep, oatmeal, bacon and bourbon.
Not typically in that order.
There was also the walk.
He brought his companion,
an old Nikon DSLR bought in the 90s.
Each day pictures were taken with
no audience other than himself.
At night over a few bourbons,
he looked over the photos,
or images as he preferred to call them.
He had stories for each of them
but no one to hear them.
Weekly he went to Ed's Groceteria,
for more oatmeal, bacon and bourbon.
Ed always stuck a Twinkie in the bag,
which was saved for Sunday dinner.
It was Ed who offered conversation,
once a week.
Ed was his company.
If he could say he had a friend,
it would be Ed.
One week and then the next,
he didn't come in for his chat with Ed.
He was dead, Ed was sure of it.
But Ed never new where he lived,
so there was no one to go find out.
Weeks later, over coffee and Bailey's.
Ed saw the story on the back page.
"Decaying body found"
Ed knew who it was.
"Jim McBain, Vietnam veteran,
found dead in his home."
Ah, that was his name.
Loneliness is a disease.
It had taken Jim, while infecting many.
Ed wondered about Jim's soul,
had it found a companion?
Ed pondered and poured a bourbon.
Loneliness is a curse when it is the pervasive reality of life. Each of us can feel this way from time to time. Some of us avoid that feeling through constant business whether it is activity, watching TV or persistent social media involvement. Loneliness is a natural emotion that we all experience at various times. It might be when the children move out, your spouse is away, friends aren't around or even on days when life just feels a little distant.
For many, loneliness is a disease that comes particularly in the older years. Disconnection occurs as children move away, spouses pass on and friends die. Ours is a society in which new connections can be challenging. Have you noticed that, as loneliness creeps in, the ability to connect, get out there, diminishes?
What happens when we say hello to some of the people that we see by themselves often? It is an experiment I'm trying (well sort of an experiment). I've started saying hello to homeless, people along my walks and the ones that I see in the coffee shop alone. Most respond although a few look down or away.
In meditation, when we find that lonely spot within ourselves, we can have empathic connection with others living at the margins in some ways. Compassion for self is the source of empathy for others.
He accomplished nothing today,
as usual.
Nothing was his mundane ritual.
In it was sleep, oatmeal, bacon and bourbon.
Not typically in that order.
There was also the walk.
He brought his companion,
an old Nikon DSLR bought in the 90s.
Each day pictures were taken with
no audience other than himself.
At night over a few bourbons,
he looked over the photos,
or images as he preferred to call them.
He had stories for each of them
but no one to hear them.
Weekly he went to Ed's Groceteria,
for more oatmeal, bacon and bourbon.
Ed always stuck a Twinkie in the bag,
which was saved for Sunday dinner.
It was Ed who offered conversation,
once a week.
Ed was his company.
If he could say he had a friend,
it would be Ed.
One week and then the next,
he didn't come in for his chat with Ed.
He was dead, Ed was sure of it.
But Ed never new where he lived,
so there was no one to go find out.
Weeks later, over coffee and Bailey's.
Ed saw the story on the back page.
"Decaying body found"
Ed knew who it was.
"Jim McBain, Vietnam veteran,
found dead in his home."
Ah, that was his name.
Loneliness is a disease.
It had taken Jim, while infecting many.
Ed wondered about Jim's soul,
had it found a companion?
Ed pondered and poured a bourbon.
© Peter Choate, 2016
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