Okay, so like, you know that show Naked and Afraid? Yeah. That is absolutely me. Sans the naked part, but considering this LA heat, I am almost positive that I should be.

In a conversation with one of my best friends, we talked about how lonely everything can feel when you’re growing up; it can be lonely when you have to let go. And in an entirely different conversation with a friend during a football game, we talked about how alone it can feel when you do not feel as if you fit quite like you’re supposed to. Once again, in a text I received from a friend in a new state, she confided that she felt sort of alone in a new city.

With very little connection between these three, we can conclude that it’s normal. It happens. You don’t feel entirely comfortable in a new pair of shoes --it takes time to break them in. Nevertheless, it does not end the feeling of losing perception, nor does it end what it is like to feel out of touch with everything. In high school, I hated four year plans; those were a waste of my time. However, it is now that I crave one because of the certainty it brings.

Like vacuuming eases my mother’s consensus, and apparently leaving cupboard doors slightly cracked eases my father’s, plans ease me. Lists ease me. It’s just who I am. It’s the certainty of those things that make me feel less lost --which makes me feel less alone, and more in control of what is ahead of me.

From what I can gather, no one likes the feeling of loneliness. You can feel physically lonely, or mentally lonely. You can stand in the epicenter of a crowded room, and still feel as if you are the only person trapped by the environment. One of my suitemates does not like being alone; sometimes when we are both home, I keep the door open so she can wander in as she pleases. My other suitemate on the other hand enjoys her solitude.

I mean, don’t get me wrong. I love my solitude, and I find it calming sometimes. However, there have been times that I have totally hated being in solitude --and there were times that I have used being in a crowded room to avoid being alone. Because if I kept my mind busy I wouldn’t have to worry about everything else going on in my head.

And yeah, this was senior year during the time of applying to colleges which was stressful. I think that my pillow has been screamed into at least 508 times by now from that experience. Maybe 509 now that midterms have commenced.

Nevertheless, I spent many, many hours in a Starbucks with anyone who would enjoy sharing their time with me. It helped knowing that everyone was in the same boat. It made the desolate island I had stranded myself on into a city. So yeah, I guess this could be considered a “misery loves company” moment, but I found solace in the comfort of relatability.

In Letters to a Young Poet, Rilke asserts that you must, “Embrace your solitude and love it. Endure the pain it causes, and try to sing out with it. For those near to you are distant...”; therefore, Rilke argues the importance of solitude in oneself in order to really know yourself, and be in touch with the world around you.

This could sound odd coming from a poet who you probably think is ancient, but he has point on this whole “loneliness” thing. It is uncomfortable to be alone because we are forced to think. We are forced to feel. We are no longer allowed to suppress what is within ourselves by using life as escape.

I am probably as guilty as ever on this one.Looking to a biblical example, in Luke 10:38-42 (NIV), Jesus tells a frazzled Martha “‘you are worried and upset about many things, but few things are needed—or indeed only one’”; in a sermon I heard concerning this, the topic was pursuit, but I find that this points a finger to the busyness of the world. As previously mentioned, we find an escape in busywork because it distracts us from ourselves. Busywork gives us a hiding place from what we need to focus on. Martha does all of this work because she is looking for gratification in elaborate actions, but that is not what is necessary. It just distracted her from what was necessary for her to focus on.

I feel like I’ve been tangoing with the world long after the music has ceased. I got busy because I got lonely. And for some reason, I assumed that it would help me feel less lost if I was doing more things to find out where I was going, but without a destination in the first place, I have no reason to run.

You can’t read a map in the dark, so I can’t continue pretending that I have night vision and know exactly where I am going to end up once the sun rises.

It’s okay to feel lonely. And it’s okay to feel a little lost right now. We are all kind of just passing through.

Use the time you have wandering around to learn about yourself. Use it to chart out where you want to be, but don’t freak out if you still are unsure of how to get there, or if you find yourself at a roadblock along the way.