What Physical Loneliness Looks Like

In my opinion, touch is one of the most intimate ways to express love to another. Of course, there are many dimensions and expressions of love, on emotional, spiritual, intellectual, and sexual levels. But at this stage of my life, touch is my favorite.

The only way to achieve physical intimacy as an adult is within the boundaries of a romantic relationship, or at least the simulation of one. No wonder so many people rush into unwise unions; how else are they supposed to feel the loving touch of another human being? Why can we not all love more overtly, without reserving such love for romance? Not that everyone should have sex with each other, but surely cuddling, kissing, hugging would be a way to build and strengthen bonds with one another as humans. To increase intimacy among mankind. With loneliness being a universal struggle, I believe all of us have a need to be nurtured in some way.

I once sat behind a couple at a public gathering, watching them interact with each other. She leaned on him, he scratched her back. Over, and over. Not just a quick pat, but a slow rubbing up and down to display affection. My blood boiled and fueled the tears of yearning hiding in my eyes. I don’t know what it’s like for someone to rub my back like that. But I want to.

Perhaps some would say I am desperate to be in a relationship. I do not altogether disagree with such allegations, nor do I fully agree either. I have fared quite well without a boyfriend, and do not believe I need one. However, what I do crave is physical contact. Not sex, necessarily, but some form of intimacy with other humans that conversation simply does not satisfy. I do not want to wait my entire life to seclude myself with one person; I want to make everyone feel loved. And it seems that reserving love for one person is a waste of the human heart.

When pondering “couple hood,” my mind immediately wanders to marriage. I think someday I do want to marry, but I have conflicting thoughts about it. Sometimes I think I can love others better by remaining single. But in a way I wish I could have sex with everyone. I know what it’s like to feel alone, isolated, desperate, helpless. And I don’t want other people to have to feel the way I have. Even if it’s just momentary relief, I want to give someone what has not been given me. I want to wrap my arms around them and love them, pretending that for once, everything is going to be okay. For them to experience my body and for me to experience theirs, to escape the world for a little while and go somewhere else. I want everyone to be able to feel that because the world is a broken place. I am broken. And I want to help other people put their pieces back together.

I, Songwriter

I thought I wanted to be a songwriter until I realized what went into writing a good, popular song.

As a child, I grew up in a religious (and sheltered) home, so I patterned some of my first songs after hymns, which could have up to seven verses. Not until I was older did I realize most songs have only two verses, because that’s all that can fit into a song most people will listen to.

As I wrote more, I became more creative with beats and instrumentation, but my songs were still overtly religious. The famous saying goes, “Write what you know,” and that really was all I knew. But my musical tastes began to change, and I listened to more mainstream music. My eyes opened to a vast world waiting to be explored. I had had no idea just how big and diverse the world was until I entered college.

A lot of songs you hear these days revolve around love, breakups, sex, and going to clubs, among other experiences, many of which I have never encountered. I have learned much just by listening to songs many deem shallow or cheesy. Songwriters will say they write from their experiences, and people relate to them. I desire to relate, not because I want to be just another crowd-follower, but because I want to understand the people around me. I want to understand what public school was like, how young people learned about the world around them, how they experienced pop culture.

I cannot write mainstream music because I do not have mainstream life experience – whatever that is. I have been in love before, but I have never had a boyfriend, or gone to a club. Not that these are the only things I need to do to “fit in,” but I still feel very naive about the world. I yearn to grasp the way people interact with each other, what they do on weekends, how they have fun, what gives them meaning. Every person is different, but some life experiences are more common than others.

My lack of common experience limits my ability to write catchy songs. I am not denying that I have something of value to offer the world, I just haven’t figured out what that is and how to do it yet.

My New Year’s Resolutions

Clean out closet – completely
Clean out car
Keep at least one of these snacks on hand as consistently as possible:
- baby carrots
- cherry tomatoes
- cucumbers
- sugar snap peas
- edamame
Achieve the ability to do 10 regular pushups in a row
Achieve the ability to do a pull up
Increase my jogging speed to a consistent 10 minute mile or less
Read 15 books

These are a few thoughts I wanted to jot down. I’m not big on resolutions, but I am big on setting achievable goals. What are your goals?

Mall Time

These days the calendar is a blur, and I can hardly remember whether today is Monday or Thursday or Saturday. It doesn’t matter much, because I am trying to work as much as I can regardless of the day.
When I get an occasional break time, I like to walk through the mall if my schedule permits. If it is busy, I avoid it. But on the “off” times – early morning, closing time – I find it rather peaceful. I see the red and gold decorations throughout, with a Santa station in one area. Christmas music plays on the radio. When no one is around, the mall is quite a pleasant place to be.

My Typical Day In the Retail World

The marimba tune playing on my phone is the one that wakes me up in the morning. I snooze for as long as I can while my brain floats through the fog at the end of my last sleep cycle. I’m lucky if I got between six and seven hours of rest.

Before I even throw off my sheets, my mind has gone to the moon and back in a spiraling fashion. I think about my dream, if I can remember it, the day ahead, the meaning of life, and I wonder if I’ll get married someday. It is an informal session of rumination, something often associated with anxiety. I don’t really feel anxious, just overwhelmed.

If I have time, I’ll hard boil an egg. Most days, however, sleep is more important. I cannot function well without sleep. Unfortunately, I cannot function well without food either. Hardee’s is the only place on the way to work. I chase a mouthful of grease with a carton of orange juice, hoping I don’t feel sick later.

Job #1 lasts for several hours. I pass the time by dusting, ringing up purchases, folding clothes, taking bathroom breaks, and occasionally hiding to take a 30-second nap. On busier days I find myself in a rhythm, which helps the time pass faster. After that I leave to go to Job #2.

I schedule an hour and a half between jobs so I can arrive on time. When traffic is heavy, I need that hour and a half. It gives me time to stop home and change, and perhaps grab something to eat from the fridge. I haven’t gone grocery shopping in awhile, so there isn’t much to choose from.

I drive in the fast lane to arrive early. If my stomach needs something, I may walk the quarter-ish mile to Starbucks. Yes, it is my guilty pleasure. It also tastes better than drive-through grease sandwiches.

I spend another few hours on my feet. I smile; people like me there. By the end of the day my feet are throbbing, even if I am wearing inserts for extra padding. I can drive home as fast as I want to, since there is almost no traffic this late. I contemplate my paycheck, but quickly remember I won’t be seeing much of it, since it will go toward paying off debt. I wonder how I allowed myself to get so deep in over my head, but I am taking steps to remedy that. It is a hard lesson, but one I believe I am learning well.

If I had forgotten or didn’t have time eat dinner, I may make a mug of hot cocoa before falling into bed. I try to spend a few minutes reading each night to rest my mind a bit before falling into a fitful sleep. Rinse and repeat.

Woolen and Wonderful

I have had the pleasure of rediscovering a favorite hobby of mine: spinning. After running out of my last batch of wool, I was hesitant to buy more (I do try to live frugally). However, when a friend of mine announced that she was going to a sheep and wool festival, I couldn’t resist asking her to get some wool for me.

That spurred a conversation about how fun it would be to create a blog series on the journey of the wool. As she lives hundreds of miles away from me, she had to send me the wool, after which I would spin it, send it back, and she would knit something from it.

The first adventure in this journey involved the festival itself, which I will link to here, my friend Dorian’s blog (she speaks of this specific wool toward the end of her post).

The second adventure rests with me, the spinner. I was overjoyed when I received the wool in the mail, and could not wait to begin spinning.

She had sent me a bundle of both black wool and white, and I set out to work as soon as I could. I was fascinated by the different textures of the wool; the white was smooth and easy to spin rather quickly. The black wool felt a little more coarse, and it was more difficult to spin a consistent thread.

The string that resulted is called single-ply yarn, meaning it is one strand. From here I took the black yarn and the white yarn and spun them together, creating two-ply yarn. Two-ply will be much easier to work with because it is less likely to twist back on itself, and it is also stronger than single-ply.

I had some leftover white wool, so I spun a little bit of white two-ply yarn to finish it off. I am proud of how it turned out, and of how my little drop spindle has held up all these years. Now I get to send it to my friend to see what she makes with it. Back to you, Dorian.

I Yearn for More

The question “How are you?” has morphed into a shallow greeting not meant to elicit an honest response. Those who do wish for an honest response have to probe further to uncover the mysteries that lie beneath the masks. Perhaps the more appropriate question to ask would be “How is your soul?”

If I am honest with myself, my likely answer to that question is “My soul is groaning.” I can tell you what my daily stressors are and why my life is hard, but that barely scratches the surface. Beneath the top soil of my heart lies the tough clay surrounding the root of my struggles, which sometimes not even I can define. Words are not sufficient to describe my feelings, my yearning for something I do not know how to find. And often this translates to depression.

I do not deny that chronic depression is an illness, a chemical imbalance of the brain that should be addressed. It is a battle I have fought for many years. Those who wrestle with depression feel differently from those who do not, even if it entails periods of numbness. There is a depth to the darkness that lasts indefinitely, casting a spell of fog upon those who experience that darkness. One could even argue that those who are depressed feel more deeply in certain ways. But suppose this is not a bad thing? Suppose we looked at depression from a different lens?

What if depression is not merely an illness, but a deeper realization of what it means to groan for eternity? That my soul longs for an unearthly love not yet realized? The material woes and issues of this life are but a thumbnail of a bigger picture which has yet to be revealed. A rocky relationship may propel me to fear that I am not loved and will therefore be alone. A dwindling bank account may scare me into thinking I will not be provided for.

Often we realize and express these anxieties only on the surface level, hoping that if we could just make more money or get along better in a relationship that our problems will be solved. We cling to these tangible issues because they are the some of the only ways we know how to express the deeper feelings of our hearts.

Truthfully, solving the issues on the surface may make life more convenient, but it will not satisfy the underlying ache that permeates the very fibers of my being. To place my hope of fulfillment on my surface saviors is a burden none of them were built to bear.

Many who aware of their deeper feelings have come to this realization, that nothing on this earth can fully meet their most intimate needs. As a result, people have ended their lives as a sign of giving up on this world, longing for a sense of relief and rest. They are right to realize the emptiness of life, but as most therapists will say, suicide is not the answer. What is has been debated over centuries, because this life as we know it is simply too limited for us to completely understand the human spirit. This much is clear: we are meant for something greater; what that entails remains to be discovered.

When Dark Descends

This evening I am enjoying the warmth and comfort of my apartment, the soft glow of the lamp on my homemade coffee table, the smell of cinnamon and orange drifting through the air from the kitchen. From my cozy corner I contemplate the presence of fear, of darkness, in the context of the surrounding materials shielding me from those horrors, and yet I have had more exposure to those elements than I would ever wish.

I watched an episode on Netflix in which the characters had to face the darkest part of themselves in order to get what they wanted. They had to come to terms with who they were. Coincidently I read a blog post right after that in which the writer suggests we run toward our greatest fears to create our best work. It is in the midst of this situation I find myself contemplating what areas of my life are shrouded in darkness. What do I fear? Who am I deep inside?

Far be it from me to expose my innermost thoughts to the internet, so if that is what you are expecting, I am afraid you will be left wanting. Still, I believe it a challenge to know for sure what our deepest insecurities are without extensive searching and reflection. We do not have a dramatic musical score to tell us when we have solved the riddle. Instead we have mere scraps of music, little bits here and there waiting for us to piece them together into our own song.

Something I fear deeply is being alone. Not physically, for that is how I am most days. It is on a more emotional level I fear I will not find companionship or love. I have no doubt many people love me dearly, but very few are able to come with me to the darkest parts of my heart. Sometimes even I do not dare descend the rickety staircase leading to that dusty basement for the possibility of getting caught in the cobwebs.

In the midst of all this, it is often the advice of many to turn to one’s spiritual health for solace. But I say this: no matter what you believe, it will not always change what you feel. Yes, we must acknowledge our feelings. Yes, we must do what is right despite those feelings, but feelings, fears, and darkness will not always dissipate no matter how hard we try to make them. When hope looks like nothing other than a distant delusion and healing a cruel con, sometimes all we can do is add more measures to our symphony in the making. We cannot yet hear the full piece, only an incomplete cadence. As much as we want to dissolve the dissonance to reach a resolution, sometimes our only antidote is to whisper to ourselves, “Maybe tomorrow.”

Dear Baby Boomers

I know the title is very specific, but I am writing this for anyone who is learning about the internet, especially those of the baby boomer generation and older (although younger people can benefit as well).

Before I begin, please do not interpret this as me talking down to you. That is not my aim at all. This is coming from a genuine concern for those who may be less familiar with the internet and what mysteries lie throughout. Listed below are certain elements that can be dangerous or destructive. People could spend weeks writing adding to and elaborating on this list, but these are just a handful that come to my mind.

Phishing
Many of you may already be familiar with this. Phishing is basically attempted theft of your money or personal information. Common examples of this include emails from people claiming to be from a foreign country in dire need of help, those who say they have recently had a death in the family and need someone to help with the inheritance money, or websites that shout, “You’ve Won!” in flashy advertisements. Ignore all of these, because they are not genuine. They are simply trying to steal your personal information (email, bank account info, etc).

Trolling
The definition of an internet troll is a very specific one. If someone is a troll, they post radical or nasty comments for the sake of starting an argument online. These comments may or may not include truth in them, but ultimately the purpose is to elicit a response from people. For example: if I were to say, “You are going to hell because you drank a glass of wine,” somewhere on the internet, no doubt my comment may be met with intense debate on religious practices, the existence of hell, or the effects of drinking a glass of wine. If someone accuses you of being a troll on the internet, it doesn’t matter how genuinely you believe in what you are saying; others are seeing it as an attempt to ruffle feathers for no reason. Arguments involving trolling are never productive because they only result in infuriated people instead of intelligent discussion.

Revenge Porn
You decide to take provocative pictures of yourself to send your significant other. Some time later, the two of you break up, ending the relationship on bad terms. Your partner is angry and posts your revealing photos online for others to ogle at and make perverted or degrading comments about your body.

Kidnapping
You are babysitting your young granddaughter and you post a picture of her from your phone to Facebook with the caption, “Look at this little angel I get to see every week.” Meanwhile, the location services are enabled on your phone, meaning you may have accidentally also posted your address (location services allow you to use the gps on your phone, and location services on Facebook allow you to tell others where you are). A pedophile uses his tricks to get past your privacy settings and see exactly where you live and when you posted the photo. With this information, he begins spying on your house and learns when your granddaughter comes to visit. One moment she will be playing in the yard, and the next moment she will be gone.

Cyber Bullying
This tends to be more common among the younger generations. You may have known the kid that people teased at the playground, but this is much worse. Complete strangers will call someone fat, ugly, or other hateful names. Some will go as far as to suggest that the victim should kill him/herself because they don’t deserve to exist. And sometimes the victim will kill him/herself after becoming overwhelmed with the abuse.

Fake News
There are countless news websites that are purely satirical and should not be taken seriously. The Onion is a classic example, and they declare on their website that the information they post is satirical. Occasionally you will come across articles from unfamiliar websites that may or may not contain accurate information. It is always important to fact check before becoming outraged about a certain issue that does not even exist. A quick Google search can often resolve the question, although sometimes the answer is more challenging to find. This is why you must take anything you watch or read with a grain of salt until you are sure you can trust the source.

Hopefully you find this list helpful. My knowledge on this subject is very limited, but I have seen multiple examples of some of the above situations that can be remedied with a little extra caution and discernment.

Babies, Babies, Babies

The media tend to blow things out of proportion no matter what their bias is, which is why I try to refrain from commenting on current events via the internet. I would much rather talk about issues face to face. However, the whole storm surrounding abortion and women’s rights is really starting to piss me off.

Whether you identify as pro-life or pro-choice, too many have turned this into a political issue when it is so much more than that. Let me explain. Among the many reasons women have abortions, it is my understanding that one big one is that they don’t have the means to support themselves or their baby, be it financially or otherwise. Some families may disown a woman for becoming pregnant out of wedlock, or at least look down on her for the situation she’s in. Maybe she wants to choose adoption, but people she loves and trusts are firmly against it.

Regardless of the situation, pregnancy happens, abortion happens, adoption happens. Instead of trying to prevent abortion, why not prevent one of the reasons for abortion – lack of support? If you’re telling a girl how wrong she is to get an abortion, are you offering to be there for her when she delivers? Are you going to help pay her medical bills so she can get back on her feet? What about the emotional roller coaster she has to go through regardless of what she does? Can you offer her a community who can wrap their arms around her so she doesn’t feel alone? These are the questions we need to be asking.