Last weekend, I had a moment of insanity, as I call it. I went down the rabbit hole, terrified of needing help at a particular time or event and who would help.
A friend shared her car breakdown story with me, expressing her gratitude that she had a friend to call on who could drop everything and help her. I thought about it long and hard, and worse yet, it caused me to fall into uncontrollable grief. I sat at my kitchen counter, crying harder than I had cried in a very long time. I couldn’t stop shaking in tears. My poor dog, Rosie, was bewildered and kept nudging me as if she could help. I fell into my bed, exhausted.
When I woke the following day, I thought long and hard and reasonably expressed my situation to Rosie. I felt better and knew I wanted to write about loneliness vs alone.
Ah, the eternal debate: loneliness vs. alone—one is a shadow that clings and the other is a space you choose.
Loneliness is the uninvited guest at the party of your mind, whispering that something—or someone—is missing. It’s the ache of absence, the hollow echo in a crowded room, the feeling of being unseen even when surrounded.
Being alone is simply the state of your own company. It’s neutral, sometimes even powerful. The quiet hum of solitude, the peaceful pause where you decide who you are when no one’s watching, can be absolutely freeing. Think of it as an exile or an escape, depending on how you hold it.
Loneliness is a craving.
Alone is a choice.
Which one are you dancing with today? I chose to be alone today. It is very powerful to know you can make a choice.
