What does it mean to be alone? It seems everybody understands feeling alone even among a group of people, but why is that the case? Even with the capacity to connect instantly with a message over the internet, or to participate in get-togethers, I always seem to hit an invisible barrier.

Trying to understand more about that barrier is probably not at all helpful. Thinking too deeply, at least based on what my mom has observed of me, just seems to depress me. Why not just keep it simple?

Closing myself off to the impact another human being might have on whatever state of mind I am in appears to be the meaning of being alone. The barrier, therefore, would serve to simply reinforce my frame of mind. Given even the most problematic, negative, isolated frame cast around my heart like a barbed wire fence, however, I want to believe whoever I end up connecting with is a benevolent Magneto.

That seems unfair though. To think that others need to save me from a closed heart. Isn’t it the case that people want to avoid toxic people? Perhaps people like me know that healthier hearts can heal us from our sorrows, if only temporarily. They wonder why people who feel the pain of aloneness so intimately cannot just be better with a few words of consolation or finding something to do.

Truth be told, in matters of love, life always exists beyond the feelings of being alone. These everlasting pillars of God are always there. Does that make people who chronically feel alone just very forgetful? Maybe it’s in fact a form of spiritual dementia. Everybody has experienced moments of authentic, loving connection… Or if that is not true, then I better be that much more grateful that I know that I have.

So here is a reminder to myself, and to others reading this, to stand strong in eternity, especially when the false pains of isolation have such a powerful grip. I will remember always that aloneness can shatter in a moment with a desire to keep my heart open. Feelings shall pass, and with them all the terrible words that only serve to reinforce the pain.

And to those that think the barbed wire fence is too strong, I ask them to find out who and what actually exists on the outside. From inside the fence, the frame that keeps me trapped in isolation, I can use my watchtower to observe and learn. Or I can remain present and direct my attention elsewhere. Finally, when all seems hopeless, I can play the long game on the edge of my seat and wait patiently for the waves of my heart to flood in and dissolve the fence, just like it has many times before.