A Love Letter to the Lonely
and other announcements
Hello friends,
Before we get to our Somebody That I Used to Know post, I have an announcement!
During the month of May we are taking a break from all of the regular posts & programming to write poetry together.
Consider this an extension of our love for poetry and a chance to step back and breathe.
I’ll send more on this later on in the week so you know what’s coming, but please open up a few minutes of daily space to write poetry with me. I can’t wait to see what good medicine waits for us.
Now, onto our current series! This post, written a few years ago on my former blog, is called Love Letter to the Lonely. I don’t remember what was happening in the world at the time, but it was just one of those moments that a heaviness could be felt hanging over all of us.
And I just wanted to offer a love letter for those who needed it.
I feel that loneliness again lately, that heaviness hanging and lingering. So, maybe you need this. Maybe a friend needs it. I hope you’ll pass it along to them if they do.
Friend,
I’ve been thinking about you today. I’m thinking about all the ways we get things wrong on this earth, in this country.
I’m thinking about all the different forms oppression can take.
I’m thinking about the reality that we’ve created a social environment in the United States (and in other countries) that doesn’t lend grace and compassion well.
We criticize each other’s weakness. We berate one another’s stories and experiences. We rip off each other’s masks and say get over it.
We maintain systems that don’t enable care for all.
We enact laws that purposefully harm.
I’m thinking about mental health and self-care. I’m thinking about the work of listening to the needs of the soul.
What does it mean to be lonely?
I’ve heard so many times the phrase we are lonely, but not alone.
But it’s okay to feel alone, right?
We’ve created a world that says loneliness is our fault, mental illness is either a myth or a problem that we must suffer with or fix quietly, so we don’t disrupt the way of things.
But loneliness is not wrong.
Depression, anxiety or any host of feelings are not sources of shame, though we shame one another for experiencing them.
We shame one another for going to therapy, for taking medications, for admitting that we are tired. We forget our humanity for a moment. We forget what it looks like to hold one another. We forget that self-care is not laziness.
And we forget that the voice of Love is everything.
And our work right now is to break the chains of shame for ourselves and for one another.
Friend, I want you to know that loneliness is not a sin or human flaw.
It also isn’t just a lie that we believe, because loneliness is real. We experience it in ourselves and in others every day, in every work environment, in every community, on every street corner.
So what if we thought of every space as an opportunity to commune?
What if our digital and physical spaces were considered sacred, just as everyone who inhabits them is sacred?
What if we live in such a way that even our online interactions create space without reducing one anther to labels of weakness or unworthiness?
What if we learn to tell ourselves that we are worthy of love? What if we chose to tell each other that same thing?
Recently in a therapy session, I tried to explain the constant tension I walk as a woman who is Potawatomi and white, Christian but fighting colonization, American but also indigenous.
I feel like I am never fully one thing or another (liminal space, am I right!?).
And while it’s lonely, the more I share my story, the more people I find who feel the same way, who are fractured, who are trying to find their footing in a world that doesn’t accept some part of who they are.
Then I remember something.
I remember the stories of Jesus, a man who seemed to be lonely a lot.
He went to quiet places. He had some close friends, but he still struggled.
“Will they ever understand?” he quietly prayed.
“Can this cup be taken away? I’m tired.”
Many of the world’s greatest leaders admit to loneliness. And in those spaces, a lot of soul care is required to remember what it means to be a leader, what it means to carry compassion and empathy as a model for others.
But what about us? What about our daily lives? What about those moments when we are too weary to do the work?
Friend, I want you to know that I’m not expecting anything from you, but to learn to love yourself and then work on the empathy and compassion that fuels you to love the world.
This is not strictly linear work, but cyclical, seasonal, an ebb and flow that doesn’t always make sense.
If you grew up in a religious or social environment that wanted rule-following over love of self, you know that even as an adult it’s hard to unlearn those thought and heart patterns. I’m still working, and I bet you are, too.
But it’s possible. And it’s not selfish.
So we re-wire the way we think about ourselves. And over time, we re-wire the way we think of others. Along the way, we reconnect with Earth, our Mother, and let her nurture us.
It doesn’t mean that loneliness isn’t a constant companion. It means that while loneliness is there with us, we are still called.
We still have important things to contribute to our communities, to our families, to the world. We still have good work to do, and that work is connected to resting in the faithfulness of this earth that we get to inhabit.
Maybe the trees can remind us that we are loved and valued.
Maybe the bird on the windowsill or the constant rising and falling tide can tell us that the world wants to continue her work because we are a part of it.
Maybe then, we’re not quite as lonely as we think.
Maybe creation meets us in our loneliness and whispers I'm still here, after all these years. And maybe the fact that we all feel loneliness in a spectrum of ways means that loneliness is universal.
Until then, I guess what I’m trying to say is, you’re not so alone, after all, and neither am I.
All my love,
Kait
This coming Sunday, May 1st from 12-2EST, there’s a special opportunity to lean into self-love and to remind ourselves that we’re not so alone. My dear friend, author, teacher, Ruthie Lindsey is leading a session called How to Like Yourself 101.
I asked her why she’s holding this space, and she shared:
Everything I offer is the medicine I needed for myself first. I’ve pulled practices from treatment, counseling, and other intuitive forms.
I’m doing this because I get messages constantly about how we need to learn to speak kindly to ourselves, and kindly to our past selves.
I did this because I hated myself for a really long time. In this space we will do practices together and spend time in small groups so that you can be witnessed in your own journey.
If this speaks to you, I hope you’ll show up and spend some time in this space with others who are asking how we love ourselves well. Ruthie is offering 50% off scholarships for LGBTQ+ and BIPOC, and you can register here.