I was lonely. I felt it deeply and permanently, that this state of being on my own might never disappear. But I welcomed the loneliness, which had everything to do with being anonymous. It’s never loneliness that nibbles away at a person’s insides, but not having room inside themselves to be comfortably alone.
“He spoke of human solitude, of the intrinsic loneliness of a sophisticated mind, one that’s capable of reason and poetry, but which grasps at straws when it comes to understanding another, a mind aware of the impossibility of absolute understanding … The difficulty of having a mind that understands that it’ll never be understood.”
Loneliness does not come from having no people around you, but from being unable to communicate the things that seem important to you.
You do not have to seek out loneliness—it is always there. Egolessness is a concept, a philosophy, but loneliness is a reality that you experience. A feeling of loneliness is part of the journey. As for me, I feel that way constantly, and I think it’s a very healthy feeling, a very real feeling. When you sense that you are not you anymore and that nothing can replace that state, you begin to make discoveries. You discover devotion, and you discover a quality of richness and artistic expression that is very special. Being you, but not being you, is very resourceful. You become a complete mountain man: you know how to make fire and cook food. But it doesn’t mean anything. You are still nobody. That is the inspiration.
You can’t fill loneliness with people you have no intention of loving.
Here I sit between my brother the mountain and my sister the sea. We three are one in loneliness, and the love that binds us together is deep and strong and strange.
It’s about misunderstandings between people and places, being disconnected and looking for moments of connection. There are so many moments in life when people don’t say what they mean, when they are just missing each other, waiting to run into each other in a hallway.