The Company I Keep

“If you are lonely when you are alone, you are in bad company”

- Jean-Paul Sartre

Words are magical…and detrimental.  When we get a word stuck in our head, a way of describing ourselves or our lives, it can become the “norm”.  Repeated so frequently that it is no longer questioned.  Repeated often enough and it becomes our identity.  

Lately, I have been stuck on the words “lonely vs. alone” in trying to describe the state of my life.  In some ways they sound like the same situation, but the distinction has been making me dig deeper. 

Alone is a circumstance.  Lonely is a feeling.  You can be alone and feel deeply content.  You can be surrounded by people and feel profoundly lonely.  Alone is being physically by yourself.  Lonely is feeling disconnected from others, yourself, or life itself.  Maybe it is just me, but lately it has been easy to confuse the two. 

There is a phase I go through after I travel to see family and friends.  I never seem to notice how lonely I am until I am with people I love.  Engaging in actual conversations, going on walks, cooking meals, having coffee.  I arrive home exhausted, but alone.  The first day or so is fine, but then I realize how alone I really am.  Or am I lonely?  Even in this paragraph, I feel like I can use the two interchangeably. 

I live alone.  I love living alone.  And most of the time I am not lonely.  Being alone gives me space to hear my own thoughts.  I love my house and how hard I have worked to make it a place of comfort.  I love my routine and the fact that I can cook what I want, watch what I want, make messes when I want.  And when I clean up, I put things away where I think they should go and they will still be there next time I need them.  I don’t have to be quiet in the morning or sneak around at night.  It is my space.  It is heavenly. 

But…I also don’t have someone to talk about the day with or eat with.  No one to curl up next to at night or to give a random hug.  It feels isolating and too quiet at times.  And, with only me keeping me accountable, it is sometimes too easy to just do nothing which creates unexpected anxiety.  I ruminate when left to my own devices.  Then, when I am around people, I talk too much.  As if I have my thoughts all stored up and they just come gushing out.  It’s a tad embarrassing really…especially when I find myself roaming the aisles of the grocery store explaining to no one why I need or don’t need a product. 

The one thing I feel the two have in common is that in both instances I am looking for something or someone external to change my situation.  And I struggle with, and many times buy into, the societal expectation that because I am alone, I surely must be lonely.  The expectation that having someone else in my life is a determining factor for my happiness.  I worry that lonely is seen by others as my identity.  I worry that I have adopted it as my identity. The truth is, I can FEEL lonely, but that does not mean I AM lonely.

Being with yourself is hard. Sitting in discomfort. Acknowledging that something feels "off." It is hard to admit that we are lonely. Harder still to realize that the person we keep waiting for may never arrive because the person we are waiting for is ourselves. 

I often look outside myself for someone to change how I feel, but no one can change my perspective except me. And I don't want to fill my calendar or meet random people just to avoid being alone. What I want is something deeper: to understand what I am feeling, what is missing, and what those feelings are asking of me. 

That kind of understanding requires responsibility. It requires quiet. It requires curiosity. Because how can I know what I truly need if I never give myself the time and space to listen? Sometimes loneliness is not asking us to find someone else. Sometimes it is asking us to find ourselves. 

In a conversation with a friend recently, she shared how challenging it can be to live with people and still feel disconnected.  She was tired and did not want to make dinner for everyone.  She just wanted someone to notice her and ask, “How are you doing?”.  I live alone and I want the same thing.  Someone to ask how I am doing.  The problem with both is that we are waiting for someone else to ask that question.  Perhaps it’s time we started asking, and answering, that question of ourselves. 

The Third Possibility: Connected Solitude

I think there is a third state that isn't talked about enough. Not alone. Not lonely. Connected solitude. It is sitting on your porch with a cup of coffee and feeling part of the world. It is journaling. It is walking without earbuds.

It is spending time with yourself and not feeling abandoned by yourself.

It is giving yourself the opportunity to discover that what you feared was not actually being alone, but meeting yourself without your usual companions:  alcohol, food, shopping, scrolling, work, busyness, approval, or achievement.  The addictive ways we numb instead of learning to be with life.

The opposite of addiction may indeed be connection, but I think the first connection is not to a community.  It is to yourself.

When you are connected to yourself being alone feels peaceful. Being with others feels enriching rather than necessary. Loneliness becomes a temporary visitor instead of a permanent residence. 

Curiosity is my favorite word.  Here are some questions that have helped me become curious about what I am being asked to sit with and why.  They help me distinguish if I am feeling lonely, alone or just being asked to sit in the discomfort of not having an “answer” to what I am feeling. 

1.  When I am by myself, what am I most eager to escape? My thoughts? My feelings?  My boredom? My silence?

2.  Do I feel more connected after spending time with other people? Or just less distracted from myself? 

3.  What would it mean to become someone whose company I genuinely enjoy?

That last question is the one that always stops me.  As Sartre says, “If you are lonely when you are alone, you are in bad company.”  If I was with anyone else who was in a challenging mood, I would want to help, not shame.  Sit with them, not demand an answer or that they “snap out of it”.  I need to offer myself the same grace.  Because the truth is, I genuinely do enjoy my company most of the time, but when I don’t, I am not kind. 

In the end, perhaps the goal is not to avoid being alone. Perhaps the goal is to become such a trusted companion to ourselves that being alone no longer feels like abandonment.

And from that place, connection with others becomes a gift rather than a necessity. ❤️

Much Love,

Lisa

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Lisa Hamil is a founding member and host for The SOS Collective, an online international women’s recovery and support group.  However, this blog and any classes or coaching offered by Lisa Hamil LLC are separate from and not affiliated in any way with The SOS Collective.