Loneliness vs Solitude

FOMO is an expression meaning fear of missing out. Before recognizing repeated occurrences of FOMO in social media posts, I didn't consider that particular fear a phenomenon in and of itself. I thought of it more in the realm of an anxiety. That doesn't mean I didn't experience it, only that I didn't know others did as well.

In Paul Tillich's quote, FOMO would fall into the category of the pain of being alone, of a sort of loneliness. We humans are social beings. When we feel left out of something ~ whether by the choice or action of others or those of ourselves ~ we feel uncomfortable, edgy.

These moments can be anything: the need to study instead of going to a movie; not being invited to a TGIF; being a vegetarian/vegan at a company BBQ; discovering friends didn't tell you before eloped; listening to travel stories of family members. The list could go on for pages. All of us feel these moments. The weight of this kind of loneliness can be as light as dust or as heavy as an anvil or anywhere in between. The hope is that as we grow (not necessarily age-related), we learn ways to pass through these moments more easily. Though, in truth, passing through them is never really easy.

Solitude, on the other hand, is often chosen. A solo trip to a new location, from a friend's new home to Machu Picchu, Zion National Park or Paris. Going to a movie because it's one we want to see or we have the time to see. Taking a walk through a local park. Eating lunch away from the office. Solitude doesn't always mean we are off in the woods totally by ourselves. It does mean we are set apart from those who are generally around us.

For about a year, I wavered between these two emotional reactions to being alone. I was going through a health adventure, as I called it. Friends and family members helped me through it, cared for me, and listened to my stories along the way. Even so there were moments when I wanted to do something only to find that it was beyond me. I couldn't go to a concert for which I had purchased the tickets, so others got to go instead. I subscribed to an online course that I couldn't finish, so I was left out of the camaraderie. I felt the pangs of loneliness. On the other hand, many days spent alone with my cat, my thoughts and books on CD, taught me to cherish the solitude of that healing time.

What experiences of being alone have you had recently? How did you feel about that time? What experience of yours can you relate to FOMO? What helps you get through loneliness or FOMO? How is your experience of solitude different from your experience of loneliness?

Listen, Attend

Our work, our relationships, and our lives succeed or fail one conversation at a time. While no single conversation is guaranteed to transform a company, a relationship, or a life, any single conversation can. Speak and listen as if this is the most important conversation you will ever have with this person. It could be. Participate as if it matters. It does.

- Susan Scott

We spend much of our lives in conversation. We converse with our partners, our children, our parents, our workmates, our neighbors, everyone around us. How well we attend to the other person is often another story. We are often chatting while doing something else. Anything else. Driving. Watching TV. Making dinner. Texting. Listening to music. Watching for our stop on a bus or train.

People make a big deal out of young people (in particular) texting or being on social media rather than communicating face to face. In truth, some of those texts or social media conversations are very intense. The participants are attending closely to what the other is saying. Some of those conversations are skimmed and content or context missed. But that's true in face to face conversations as well. We're alive inside our own personal thoughts, actions, reactions, but not necessarily to what the other is communicating.

Each conversation we have with each person who is in our lives is important, significant in its own unique way. Conversations are about ebb and flow, the back and forth give-and-take of interactions. When we are distracted or focused on something other than the person with whom we are communicating, we miss cues to the deeper message behind their words.

We all want to feel heard, to be heard, to have another respond to us as though we are, in the moment, the most important person in the world. In truth, in those moments of deepest communication, we are that important. In order to receive that focus from another, we must be willing to give it. We must be willing to slow our pace. We must be willing to stop our attempt to 'multitask' and attend to another person. Listen. Attend. It's important.

How many times have you walked away from a conversation with no recall of its content? or its context? What has distracted you during your most recent conversation with another person? and the one before that? When was the last time you felt, thought or believed that another person was not paying attention while you were speaking to them? How did you feel? What can you do to keep your attention in your next conversation?

Solitude and Community

...we need solitude and community simultaneously: what we learn in one mode can check and balance what we learn in the other. Together, they make us whole, like breathing in and breathing out. ....Solitude does not necessarily mean living apart from others; rather, it means never living apart from one's self. .... Community does not necessarily mean living face-to-face with others; rather it means never losing the awareness that we are connected to each other.

~ Parker J. Palmer

In the midst of all the shifts and sea-changes of the past weeks, I find myself pulling into my shell as well as seeking the comfort of simply being with others. Many around me expressed feeling the same tidal pulls. The full supermoon has only added to the depths and breadths of the shift.

There's the sense of being alone in a crowd. Like wandering through an unknown city, with hundreds of people rushing past, the feeling can be soft, almost unnoticed. Or harsh and overwhelming. What I've been feeling is simply drawing energy from the presence of others. This keeps me aligned, deep in my soul, centered. When it begins to swing to the harsh side, I make my way to a quiet corner, a place apart from others, though I continue to be aware of them.

I thought 'unplugging' from social media would help. Instead, I felt a sense of losing contact with my community. What I wanted, needed, was connection with others. Light touch connection. A friend texting with information about a personal issue we had previously discussed. Another messaging that she's doing okay after being ill. Someone posting he'd just received a job offer. A phone conversation about dreams. These are the people in my community, the ones who keep me awake and grounded.

Another thought darting through my head was to find gatherings of like-minded, like-hearted people. My basic introverted nature reeled at that one. Being with a few people with whom I have a connection is one thing; being in a crowd of mostly unknowns is another animal completely. Yet this path works better for some people. They need the energy of groups, the opportunity to 'get lost' in a common cause.

Whatever pattern you need in order to stay grounded, centered, deeply yourself and deeply connected, follow it. Trust the intuition that drives you forward.

How do you feel when in solitude? in community? What connects you most deeply to yourself? to your community? How would you describe your community? Are there more than one? How are they similar? different? How does solitude feed you? How does community feed you?

Listening Power, part 1

When we consider the act of listening, we think it primarily involves sound and our eardrums. However, true listening engages our minds, our focus and our hearts.

In this day and age of everyone's absorption with social media and smart phones, we sometimes miss the nuances that occur in conversations. It's more than tone of voice, although that is part of it. There's body language and facial expression, the rhythm of speech and level of vocabulary. All of these things require our attention if we are to really listen to the speaker.

As an example, I have a history of misunderstanding and conflict with someone. One day, as I was walking out of one room and heading on to my next appointment, this person said, "I've sent you an email about X." I glanced at the person, responded with "Okay" and continued on. However, it was what I saw when I glanced over that provided insight into this particular communication. When the person spoke, it was with head slightly down and turned away, eyes averted, though the body was still and erect. I was the one in motion. That body language shouted that this was a difficult communication for this person to deliver. I understood far more about X from that than I did from the sent/received email. It's changed not only my view of this person but also the direction of my continued communication.

Although email, texts, Facebook posts, IMs, etc. make communicating quicker, they also provide less information. The wholeness of the message is sometimes missed. I worked for a boss who only skimmed my emails (since I tend to be detailed, thus wordy), occasionally asking questions that were already answered in my missive. I learned to send briefer communiques and release my tendency toward thoroughness.

How has social media, emails, texts, etc. affected your listening? How do you handle the frustration of communication misunderstandings? What do you feel when you read brief comments to complex questions or statements? What does listening mean to you?