As I've gotten older, I relish my alone time. I rarely feel lonely anymore. I think when I was younger, before I had the chance to experience a lot of dating, and some lengthy personal relationships, I was more prone to the feeling of loneliness. A lot of my feelings was derived from what I thought others had, as well as from what I thought I was therefore missing.

Loneliness is a major topic in our society today because so many people today are hurried, self-absorbed, poor listeners. Have you noticed how people talk mostly about themselves? Some even avoid even that futile stab at interconnectedness by delivering boring, long-winded monologues on arcane topics. Most of us do not practice real conversation, don't know how to pause and attend to the other for a while, don't take the time to think about what the other person said. Easy to understand why so many of us have given up even trying to connect .

People who practice good conversational skills (who are not trying to seduce someone) are so rare that the only way to even MIMIC a genuine reciprocal relationship is to hire a therapist.

If the electronic diversions we fill our time with were absent, as they were until the 20th century, we would spend a lot more time talking/ listening to each other. Our stories, not media's, would become interesting again. We would be more personally known, less lonely. We have gained a plethora of diversions today and in the process lost the old connectedness. Alas, the chances of western culture returning to the good old days of salons, long chats on a bench or gathering around a pot-belly stove in the dead of winter are gone forever.

From a fellow whiner:

To all the folks bemoaning their lack of personal connections as we get older, you can't tell me that you yourself, when you were younger, did not also reject people because you were too busy for them, because you had other, higher priority relationships you wanted to spend time on (likely someone who could give you something you need, like love or sex, or were more interesting and engaging). This is the nature of life. When people have children their lives are upended and they have much less time. People change, their priorities change, their friends change. Or should I say "friends", because what most people call "friends" are really acquaintances. As Vladek said in "Maus": "Friends? Friends? Try hiding for a month in an attic with someone, then tell me what is 'friends'". I have a question for these lonely people (yeah, you can count me in too sometimes) who no longer have connections: Have you ever thought about leaving the comfort of your house and your misery and going to an old folks home to volunteer? This will be the true test of your desire to connect with humans. These are people who can offer you nothing that you value (except life experience and possible wisdom). So, what is it? Are you really lonely and desperate for human contact? Or are you just desperate for a narrowly defined type of contact? If you actually need human contact, get off your ass and find those who are in even worse shape than you. You never know what you might learn in the process.

Breathe Deeply in the Void

Pass on the Superficiality

Find Joy in the Now

Revel in the Shared Moments

Fear Not the Emptiness

Be a Friend Whenever Possible

We All Die Alone

It increasingly seems to me that much of modern life seems to be about distration from the world and people around us. Some is incidental - like people (especially kids) who get so drawn into video games and TV that they end up with little real interaction. But much also seems intentional, like bars or clubs with screens flashing out images on every side, a constant distraction from the lack of communication with the others there, and music so loud that it's difficult to talk even if you want to. As if the intent is to relieve us of any need to go beyond the surface in our interactions.

During college, I lived in one house in which the policy was "no TV in the common areas." It was great, we had constant interaction and conversation. But I've been in way too many homes where the TV is never turned off, where dinners are eaten with the TV on. More and more I go to the homes of friends for a visit, and the TV is in constant competition for our attention. It pretty much assures that conversation won't go beyond what's on the screen.

And what's on the screen? Sugary, simplistic and stereotyped visions of "friendship," "community" and "togetherness" (particularly in commercials, where these values are always paired with a product). Perhaps nobody truly believes that a new cellphone really has anything to do with snuggling on a starry night with a lovely partner but if we didn't make that connection somewhere in our psyches, the commercial wouldn't be effective.

The internet also offers a very seductive alternative - find the friends you need with little real commitment. Do they do something you don't like? Block them. Facebook offers the illusion that we're really "in contact" with our friends but if we never actually see them or interact with them, or feel the need to, then what sort of community do we really have?

Having community is wonderful but it also requires presence, as well as self-sacrifice. I believe the isolation many feel is a result of real mental laziness, both in terms of taking the easy route to entertainment as well as of watching what we accept and allow to masquerade as "our thoughts." We make constant decisions - will I spend time with people I care about, or will I play gameboy / watch TV / spend the entire evening on internet chat - and more and more of our choices are for the comfortable illusion of connection rather than actualy bonds. But when the need for true companionship and intimacy appears, the shallowness of these "alternatives" becomes painfully apparent. But the commercials are already pushing the pills that will make us forget about it...