There is within each of us the ache of aloneness. An aloneness borne from our uniqueness of experience, for there is no one whose footsteps have graced the world in the ways our own have. Childhoods filled with the complexity of unmet expectations, of abandonment, of navigating more than relaxing, even in a more secure childhood, an aloneness still permeates.
Aloneness carried amidst the weight of the shame of having to stay silent, or carrying experience, of choices made and decisions slighted, of being hurt and bewildered, of self protection that creates walls, fears and wants to run and hide away. Aloneness of never being truly understood, never being allowed to be, never being seen. Aloneness that cannot be exposed, but appears in the midst of places where its not supposed to, the supposed happy childhood, marriage, the party and the church, the silent reality, the shame that it itself carries that no one else seems to know.
Aloneness that both aches and hungers.
Aloneness that no ‘other’ , no ‘thing’ and no ‘experience’ can truly fill, however hard we grasp, desire, dream or hope that it might. Aloneness that sits there, sometimes haunting, sometimes aching, sometimes screaming, sometimes raging, sometimes crying, sometimes seen, sometimes unseen. Aloneness hiding underneath the surface of the drama and distraction that pulls our energy towards and yet lurking underneath is a lack of something, and the presence of something, nothing, the bleak aloneness lurking in the shadow of the soul.
Aloneness that raises its voice in the despair of never being truly loved, or seen or heard and yet though temporarily happiness covers it, its hollow ache exists, and craves for one more temporary fix, until it finally makes itself safe to be known and seen, when the fixes run out, the busyness ceases and its raw truth
There is within us a deep sense of aloneness, that creates a need in others, or Gods, to fix, solve or mend us, expectations that they can never fill, a burden placed externally that is ours to face truly.
Yet, paradoxically, it is only when we are truly alone, bravely alone that aloneness itself can be faced. When everything else is stripped away, and you allow yourself to go to the dark recesses of your own soul. The places you dare not go to, where the mist of shame festers over a cave of cold , dark , but truthful aloneness, where there is only you, embracing gently, willingly, openly, the lost truth that yours ,and my, life has carried.
It is in that moment of going there, that there is realisation that there is a you, that is apart from the alone ache, when you travel towards it, you realise that you are not it, yet it haunted you like a lost presence throughout directing your life, yet, it wasnt ever you, just an ache in your soul waiting for you to love it, to listen to it, to face with courage and kindness.
Let it speak, Let it say what its always wanted to, when you face it, its been there, being part of you, embrace it with love, for, theres nothing more uniquely universal that the aloneness within, and nothing more powerful than meeting it face to face and loving it into your presence, integrated, not afraid, not shamed. There is within us the presence of aloneness that brings us into true courage, and true depth, and true connection with the other.
James Ballantyne 