One of my greatest fears in life is to be alone. To explain why this is my greatest fear, here’s a very personal story:
I was adopted at birth.
It seems strange, I know, that I can remember lying in a crib in the hospital alone, but I do.
It felt as though I was floating in emptiness, unsure of where I was but knowing I was no longer in the womb.
And I knew somehow, without being told, that I was taken from the woman who gave birth to me the moment I entered the world—a newborn, needing touch and closeness, some sort of responsiveness or nurturing.
As I grew up, when I felt a lack of attachment, like moments when I felt lonely or was going through a break up, I somehow unconsciously remembered the frightening feeling of being abandoned, even though it was only two days later when I was placed in my adoptive mother’s arms.
Loneliness can terrify me and it’s something I have to work with.
What I know now is that there’s a difference between loneliness and aloneness.
Loneliness stems from a wound, a place of feeling separation. A place of neediness and a need for attention. It’s not wrong that we feel lonely, there’s just a way to reframe it.
Aloneness is a place for solitude: A powerful and profound time to develop a relationship with yourself.
In solitude, we have the space, time and energy to know ourselves more intimately and have a romantic affair with our own hearts.
We get to have more understanding of who we are and who we are NOT in order to move to the next level in ourselves and in our partnerships.
We gain more clarity on how we choose to relate with the world. We get to restore, replenish and recoup.
We get to relinquish what no longer serves and download new updated programs to begin anew.
Loneliness feels like a void. Like a black hole that might suck us in.
But aloneness is quite the opposite.
It’s not a place where we lose ourselves.
It’s a place in which we gain. A place of expansion, a widening of the heart, a deepening of our wisdom, and the reception of insight—all of which are limitless and infinite.
Each and every time we go through a period of solitude we come out of it so much stronger, empowered, capable, less needy, less grasping . . . whole.
The energy of relationships moves in a current, like a figure of eight:
We come together and we move apart. We come together and we move apart.
When we love the distances as much as the togetherness, we’ve learned how to love ourselves and others more.
Wishing you a rich inner-relationship!