The Solace of Solitude

“Don’t surrender your loneliness so quickly; let it cut more deep. Let it ferment and season you, as few human or even divine ingredients can. Something missing in my heart tonight has made my eyes so soft, my voice so tender, my need of God absolutely clear.”—Hafiz

When betrayal breaks your heart, at first you feel a desperate impulse for company to escape the pain. The specter of loneliness comes inevitably with heartbreak.  If you are like me, it is likely you have never felt this alone before in your life.

We are like a wounded animal that retreats to a cave for healing.  There you can pull into a shell of self-protective solitude—to nurse the devastation, and to better listen to the messages coming from your broken heart.

Whether you choose it or not, betrayal has a way of forcing you into solitude.  Your previous social network is shorn away, either literally or psychically. You find yourself asking, “Where have all my friends gone?” at the same time avoiding social gatherings and turning down invitations.



Being alone does not equal loneliness, of course.  I found I actually began to prefer time alone. I could no longer relate to family and friends about what mattered most to me. In company, I couldn’t find the right words.  They would not understand, I would burden them with my grief, confusion and pain.

The excuses mounted, as I began to realize that loneliness actually struck me more often in the distractions of company. I would yearn to leave, to get back home and tend to my shattered inner world. When I forced myself to go out, I felt as if I had abandoned a sick child crying for my care and attention.

Hungry for Spirit

And it is true, betrayal cracks open the earliest infantile and existential wounds. With this much pain, we are hungry for spirit to help, even though we may not realize it. Instead we are tempted to rush to fill the empty space with new relationships, activities, addictions and other distractions.

I tried, but, all that activity did not work for me. Being alone was the only way, it seemed, to step into the raw, exposed, vulnerability of my torn heart and crushed dreams.  I had to pass through the trial of facing the loneliness, and the wounds of abandonment and rejection alone.  Only I could discern the voice of my own spirit calling.

If I stayed too long away from the solace of solitude, I started to feel like a fish out of water.  In company, I would begin to feel vaguely disturbed.  I would glance around in alarm, as if my oxygen supply was dwindling, and dash out at the first opportunity to return to my cave.

Don’t get me wrong, we need the support of others to recover from such a blow. Betrayal is an underrated trauma that gets glossed over in this culture that can destroy your faith and sicken your soul. Recovery requires the best friends and healers we can find, as well as plenty of solitary healing time.

The forced aloneness we feel with traumatic loss can be a tenuous, but wondrous time. Tending to the brokenness with care, you begin to discern the compassionate heart amidst murmurings of the betrayed mind. A small voice within, like a hauntingly familiar, distant music calls and warms the soul. The pain of loneliness turns, as if by magic, to the glory of solitude.

After being abandoned or betrayed, being even more alone may seem like strange medicine for our soul sickness.  Yet that is the paradox of this mysterious call of Spirit—we must pass through acute loneliness to the graces of solitude to learn that we are not alone.

 

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