Chris
McDonnell, UK
chris@mcdonnell83.freeserve.co.uk
Previous articles by Chris Comments
welcome here
May
24, 2017
A
time apart
Sometimes
we are careless with our words, confused by the apparent closeness of
meaning when in fact they are quite different. Two such words are solitude
and loneliness, for one does not imply the other.
One determining factor is choice. Choosing
solitude is substantially different from being lonely, for solitude is
usually chosen for a purpose. There is a freedom of action implied rather
than something that is demanded. Solitude is for some a necessary choice
that offers a freedom to be, a freedom to act that otherwise would not be
possible. Without solitude a limitation would be imposed on our actions;
only with the choice of solitude would the full fruit of our lives be
attainable, and our sharing with others possible.
Loneliness on the other hand has a restrictive
effect and is the result of negative experiences when others seem to have
rejected us, when we are not part of the group, when we cannot share the
full joy of experience or seek solace in time of pain.
It is not about physical solitude but is much
more about the failure to form lasting and meaningful relationships with
other people. In the hustle and bustle of our daily lives there are many
times when we need a shoulder to lean on, a hand to hold or the patience
of someone with the time to listen. Given such time, our own healing is
hastened, comfort is assured as we realise there is someone who cares, a
person who seeks to offer company in our loneliness.
Experiencing loneliness can so easily be part
of life in a big city, where in spite of being surrounded by other people,
we find ourselves alone. The tube journey home may well have been noisy
and crowded, the pavement a place where you are jostled in the bus queue.
But when the key is put in the door and you go inside your home, you can
enter a very different environment. It might be with a sense of
satisfaction that you close the door and enjoy the company of the cat
whilst you have a cup of tea. Or it maybe with a sense of foreboding as
the deep realisation of your loneliness offers little comfort and quite
possibly a degree of unease.
One way to ensure that your own loneliness is not a weight that is
too much to bear is to give to others, who may be lonely, the generosity
of your presence. When someone realises that they do matter then their
loneliness is eased.
But what about the choice of solitude, the
conscious desire to be alone for a purpose, the choice of a singularity in
life that is dependent on solitude? That is very different.
Some men and women enter a religious order to
share, in community, their life journey in the presence of the living God.
Exemplary though that is, others, a small number, seek the solitude of
living as hermits, striving to fulfil their understanding of God’s love
in a particular and some would say, a peculiar way of life. Very often
such a choice draws people to their door, the stranger recognising in the
hermit a rare quality of being, a defined purpose that is both strong and
dedicated. Their solitude is undertaken for a reason and is not the
consequence of rejection or the inability to form secure relationships.
Not many of us, in fact very few, have the
courage and strength of purpose to live such solitary lives. Few would
take the risk of even setting out on the path, let alone sustaining the
consequences of the journey. A journey of a thousand miles starts with a
single step and until that step is taken, we have no idea of the extent of
the journey.
Yet there is the opportunity to test the water
by accepting such a solitary path for a few days or even a week, by
undertaking what used to be called a Retreat. We are now more inclined to
use the phrase, Days of Recollection. A time spent in the peace and quiet
of an established religious community, a time of silence for reflection
and prayer, a time for renewal. What has been personally gained can then
sustain not only ourselves but others who come knocking on our door or
those who are waiting for our knock on their door.
The first chapter of Thomas Merton’s book,
‘No man is an Island’ is
entitled ‘Love can be kept only by
being given away’. He goes on to write ‘a happiness that is sought for ourselves alone can never be found,
for a happiness that is diminished by being shared is not big enough to
make us happy’.
A fruit of
solitude is a generous love, especia
lly to those who are lonely.
END
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