For me, being alone is where I'm most useful and at peace. My mind is clear without the chatter, and I know myself completely. Being unknown, though, is always present when people are around—that sense of being fundamentally unseen despite being in company.
This is well written and it resonates very much. I like being alone, but not being lonely. These are two totally different states of being and come with different feelings. And yes, you can be lonely in a crowd. Thank you for being so open and writing about this and your own experience.
This series is incredibly important and impactful, Lynn. You have taken something quite complex and helped unfold it for us in such an elegant way. I look forward to continuing reading it. I relate to looking back, understanding how to take those feelings and use them for artistic purposes. For me, being alone and unseen can now feel incredibly freeing. One example: shooting street photography in New York. It's actually my favorite place to photograph. I could wander for days and no one would speak to me and wandering in that bubble of mine, I'd feel peace. Thank you!
"I still feel on the edge of things—present, but not quite anchored. That edge, I've now learned, is where the best work happens."
This line is close to how I feel here on my hill in France Lynn, although I think I might alter it slightly to say, I am anchored on the edge of things, I am here, I am present but only peripherally. I am still largely an unknown even after 20 years and there is much and many I don't know considering the size of local community. But, if I am entirely honest, I don't want to know more than I do. It has been my choice in every country I've lived in and although t has taken me many years to realise, I am more content and more creative this way. I am not lonely, (though at times I have felt loneliness) but I am very much, by choice, alone.
I think it is choice that is important here - like you, I've now made the choice to be on the edge and not to hanker after something that doesn't come naturally or feels uncomfortable.
Since reading the start of this series, I've pondered whether my experience somehow 'qualifies' me as a TCK. My parents married a couple of years after WW2 and I was born 13/14 years later. That gap never made me feel disconnected but I did lead a somewhat nomadic childhood, which continued into adulthood with long-distance moves with the companies I've worked for. I lost both my parents in my early 30s and never wanted kids - mainly to avoid having to drag them around the country as my work situation changed. Now I'm retired, living in a commuter estate whose population ebbs and flows daily, I've felt more lonely than I ever remember feeling. Ironically, I have more free time than I've ever had. I'm looking forward to future editions of 'Neither Here nor There'....
Thanks for reading and commenting, Paul. You don’t have to be a TCK to experience some of the feelings I’ve had over the years. From the comments on my posts, it seems many have felt similarly for a myriad of reasons.
I like to think of the distinction between "loneliness" and "aloneness." For me, "lonliness" evokes a desire to be with others, connected in whatever way, that's not possible to achieve for whatever reason. Lonliness is a state one wishes to escape. "Aloness" is a state in which one finds comfort, sustenance, the creative source. The pain of lonliness can of course trigger creativity and great art, but only out of a defensive position. Aloness is a state of being that is accepted, that one can revel in. In my case, what started out in my alienation as "lonliness" eventually morphed to "aloneness" through reflection, therapy, and many awkward attempts at connecting with people. It took years, but I can now choose aloness when I need it and still feel connected to those I love and want to be near.
Thanks for your comment, Mark. I agree with you in your definition of loneliness and aloneness. Glad to hear that you have found a way to navigate all.
For me, being alone is where I'm most useful and at peace. My mind is clear without the chatter, and I know myself completely. Being unknown, though, is always present when people are around—that sense of being fundamentally unseen despite being in company.
Thanks for reading and commenting, Janine. It’s an odd juxtaposition isn’t it, being unseen in a crowd of people.
This is well written and it resonates very much. I like being alone, but not being lonely. These are two totally different states of being and come with different feelings. And yes, you can be lonely in a crowd. Thank you for being so open and writing about this and your own experience.
Thanks, Susanne - it's a topic that seems to be resonating with many.
This series is incredibly important and impactful, Lynn. You have taken something quite complex and helped unfold it for us in such an elegant way. I look forward to continuing reading it. I relate to looking back, understanding how to take those feelings and use them for artistic purposes. For me, being alone and unseen can now feel incredibly freeing. One example: shooting street photography in New York. It's actually my favorite place to photograph. I could wander for days and no one would speak to me and wandering in that bubble of mine, I'd feel peace. Thank you!
Thanks, Juliette. I've come to realise there is power and freedom in understanding what I have been feeling for so long.
That’s wonderful to know Lynn. I too, can relate to that power and freedom and always trying to reach for more!
"I still feel on the edge of things—present, but not quite anchored. That edge, I've now learned, is where the best work happens."
This line is close to how I feel here on my hill in France Lynn, although I think I might alter it slightly to say, I am anchored on the edge of things, I am here, I am present but only peripherally. I am still largely an unknown even after 20 years and there is much and many I don't know considering the size of local community. But, if I am entirely honest, I don't want to know more than I do. It has been my choice in every country I've lived in and although t has taken me many years to realise, I am more content and more creative this way. I am not lonely, (though at times I have felt loneliness) but I am very much, by choice, alone.
I think it is choice that is important here - like you, I've now made the choice to be on the edge and not to hanker after something that doesn't come naturally or feels uncomfortable.
Since reading the start of this series, I've pondered whether my experience somehow 'qualifies' me as a TCK. My parents married a couple of years after WW2 and I was born 13/14 years later. That gap never made me feel disconnected but I did lead a somewhat nomadic childhood, which continued into adulthood with long-distance moves with the companies I've worked for. I lost both my parents in my early 30s and never wanted kids - mainly to avoid having to drag them around the country as my work situation changed. Now I'm retired, living in a commuter estate whose population ebbs and flows daily, I've felt more lonely than I ever remember feeling. Ironically, I have more free time than I've ever had. I'm looking forward to future editions of 'Neither Here nor There'....
Thanks for reading and commenting, Paul. You don’t have to be a TCK to experience some of the feelings I’ve had over the years. From the comments on my posts, it seems many have felt similarly for a myriad of reasons.
I had a complicated childhood and grew up with a profound sense of loneliness. This was enlightening to read Lynn. Thank you.
Thanks, Pamela 🙏🏻
I love that you are writing about this! I completely agree that loneliness has more to do with connection than physical loneliness.
I love the ending here:”… it was something I could explore, transform, make into something larger than my own experience.”
Thanks, Manuela. I’m just sorry it has taken me so long to make peace with it.
I like to think of the distinction between "loneliness" and "aloneness." For me, "lonliness" evokes a desire to be with others, connected in whatever way, that's not possible to achieve for whatever reason. Lonliness is a state one wishes to escape. "Aloness" is a state in which one finds comfort, sustenance, the creative source. The pain of lonliness can of course trigger creativity and great art, but only out of a defensive position. Aloness is a state of being that is accepted, that one can revel in. In my case, what started out in my alienation as "lonliness" eventually morphed to "aloneness" through reflection, therapy, and many awkward attempts at connecting with people. It took years, but I can now choose aloness when I need it and still feel connected to those I love and want to be near.
Thanks for your comment, Mark. I agree with you in your definition of loneliness and aloneness. Glad to hear that you have found a way to navigate all.
Even Dylan was (a complete) unknown