I had a book to return to the town library here in the neighborhood, it was on the counter by the door. My son was coming over for dinner in a couple hours, and I was just getting home from work. The cats hoped to convince me to stay and feed them early, but this book that was not grabbing me from it’s written pages was begging me to take it back for someone else to try. An umbrella afternoon and 3.5 minute walk brought us to the Mill entrance, where water was pooling in a ditch precariously sipping it’s way to the granite sills of the first floor windows. Down two flights of stairs to the lowest active level of the Mill and the hallway filled with free magazines and donated books for resale outside the library entrance found me still alone. Not a word had been exchanged with another since I left my door. Inside the children’s room door was closed; a couple of two and three foot tall tow heads played while an older pair read and kept an eye out. Straight ahead a young man sat enclosed by a hooded carhart jacket, stray strands of his goatee peeked out from the silent silhouette. I returned the book to a soft spoken and bright smiling librarian, found one new book by the checkout that had information I might be better served by, and another book of one poem. I was going home tonight with “The Line Becomes the River /Dispatches from the Border” by Francisco Cantu and “A Leaf and A Cloud” by Mary Oliver. On the exit path way a magazine rack required a last minute perusal. This month’s Psychology Today’s cover, “The Loneliness Cure”,” How to make Connections that Count,” got me putting the books and umbrella down to sit and read that lead article. Forgetting my reading glasses, I read anyway, beside a good light before going home.
What I found most compelling in the article, is that when the brain is being scanned it reads similarly from a subject that has lonely feelings to one experiencing pain. Conversely, when the brain is under the influence of opiates or pain killers the lonely place in the brain does not get fired up. So killing the sensation of pain also quiets the feeling of loneliness. This really stirred up my thinking about loneliness as well as the varied ways I have tried alcohol, food, drugs and relationships to quell painful experiences of disconnection as well as “real” physical pain. I wonder if loneliness can create pain and/or painful ailments? Implicit in the article is that a chronic state of loneliness will adversely effect physical and mental health. When I think about a healthier, connected life, I imagine warm daily exchanges in a community, groups in meditation and at work for a creative solution, being loved and valued by a tribe, playing together in the outdoors and having real, true engagement in this abundant world. To my great relief, today I am on a path of healing from pain-filled lonely nights and days. Connecting with others who are waking up to love and the kindness in their hearts is a blessed antidote to the destructive cycle of loneliness and anesthetizing pain. – TDC