Loneliness, Inc.

This post was actually an accident—I never meant for it to happen. I was going to write a “poor pitiful me” post, and I needed a title, and I thought it would be clever to call it “Loneliness, Inc.” (Heh. Clever. Right.) But as soon as those words had time to sink in, I knew I had to scrap my whiny post and start over.

Read on, brave readers.

Life comes and goes in seasons—seasons of joy, grief, love, pain, loneliness, business, and everything in between. Like the physical seasons, life’s seasons are prone to overlap—it can feel like summer one day, and then the next day brings the chill of winter.

Right now, with Daniel consumed with the final weeks of school, pulling 12 hours days away from the house, I'm entrenched in a season of loneliness. I cherish the time that he is home, but when he’s gone, I’m almost always alone. By. My. Self.

This season is only temporary—like that last chill before the rays of summer return—and I know that in two weeks, school will be over (for a few weeks), and I will get my friend back. Believe me, it will be a glorious day!

But what to do in the meantime?

We hear about “Such and Such, Inc.” all the time. New corporations are sprouting up all over the place. Why? What is so special about those three little letters (and a period)? Here’s some of my infamous deductive reasoning—(Disclaimer: no actual research has been done in relation to this post)—corporate America is where “they” (i.e., people who are not me) make the big bucks. When the economy is healthy, corporate America is flying high. Corporations, therefore, are the ones making money—they are earning returns on investments; they are making a profit. Incorporated (Inc.) implies the existence a corporation (you following me?), which would lead one to assume that the corporation in question is profitable to the ones associated with it.

Loneliness is often viewed as undesirable. When I’m lonely, I’m prone to melancholy. I get down in the dumps. I write (and hopefully delete) whiny blog posts.

But what if I “incorporated” my loneliness? What if my lonely seasons became Loneliness, Inc.? What if I (with intentionality) chose to redeem my loneliness? Let it turn a profit? Make a few returns on the otherwise empty, lonely hours? (Ok, so maybe I’m stretching a little bit, but I found it an interesting concept.)

Instead of watching endless hours of CSI: Miami, I could channel my energy into creating things with my hands. I love scrap-booking and making hand-made cards. I love practicing my calligraphy. When Daniel’s gone and I’m all by myself, I have all the time in the world, and I can make as big of a mess as I want. It’s a great “alone” activity, plus I have a tangible end result—a profit that I don’t get from CSI slumming.

I keep telling myself that I want to learn Latin, Anatomy & Physiology, and Calculus. Hours by myself with nothing to do—why not enrich my life by learning some new skills or concepts? I have the textbooks; I have the time. Why not?

I finally have the (full, 88-key) keyboard I’ve been dying to get. I have FOUR nice guitars I could play (1 is mine, 2 are the hubster’s, 1 is Dad’s on loan). I have lots of free time. For a musician, this really shouldn’t be considered a problem.

It’s all in the way I choose look at things. If I look at my loneliness as a burden—a wintry season to be endured until the sun comes out again—I’ll trudge through it with only whiny blog posts to show for it. If I see it instead as an enterprise filled with possibilities—embracing the season for its potential—when I get my friend back, I might have something new, cool, or crafty to share. The only problem is with all of these nifty opportunities to invest in, Loneliness, Inc. isn’t going to have enough time to go around!

Ok. Now I’m going to go work on the post that I got on here to write in the first place—no, not the whiny one; the OTHER one I got on here to write. The one I’m not sure whether I want to get into. The one about decision-making and the will of God. Crazy, deep stuff, yo.