As you read the excerpt below, think and reflect on these themes:
How has this loss has torn up your roots; how it has made all things feel sharp?
For a little while, it is as if my nakedness were clothed in love.
But then, when I come back, I shiver in my isolation, and must face again,
and try to tame the loneliness.
May Sarton, from Journal of a Solitude.
Trying to tame loneliness is hard but completely necessary when you have friends in your life that have no idea what this valley of the shadow of death is like deep within your soul. They try to understand. They want to make it better, but they just can't. Then they get weary too. In those moments when you know it's uncomfortable for them you have to shiver in the isolation alone. You have to face it all again alone. You have to tame the loneliness in order to look like you are okay; alone.
The very definition of lonely is "without companions; solitary." The most bizarre part of this all is that you could be surrounded by hundreds of people or even just a few very genuine and loving people and you could still be lonely. How is that possible? I ask myself that all the time. In those moments when I am surrounded by genuinely happy people, how am I still so lonely in this grief?