Company

Well, I hope you all had a lovely St. Valentine's Day. (Or a reasonably comfortable Singles' Awareness Day, whichever you happen to be celebrating.) I, for one, spent SAD in a blurry haze, content to curl up on my bed for the duration. No, I wasn't pining for some lost love...merely lost health. On that note, I'm feeling rather better. Thanks for asking.

Once I reemerged from my lair, I discovered that my family had sent me a box. It wasn't much - just a little bag of the chocolates my mom adores, a small homemade gift from my baby sister, and some mail - but it's the thought that counts. And, quite honestly, those thoughts were rather lonely.

It's odd; after all, I'm surrounded by people, which is more than I can say for my developing years. Before college I lived, worked, and studied at home. Here in college, I have the interesting (and often frightening) opportunity to get out and meet people my own age. I often feel I'm not up to the challenge - everyone else seems to have, literally, years of experience on me - but I manage.

The truly unusual thing is that I don't remember being lonely growing up. I had my books, my computer, and my little sisters, and that was all the company I needed. (And quite honestly, the little sisters were often superfluous. Any older sibling know what I mean.) Outside interference usually meant that something got mucked up, since habitually failed to prepare for the fact that, in my controlled and ordered world, other people were the only thing I couldn't either control or avoid. In short, I didn't regret the fact that I had no friends growing up; rather, I relished it.

Now, however, I have found that having friends - while still prone to throw my delicately balanced schedule completely off it's hinges - is actually quite pleasant. Having only oneself for company leads to a slow decay of creativity and imagination. Being around other people leads to bouncing ideas off of them, either explicitly or implicitly. We converse with one another, learn different viewpoints and ideas, and incorporate them into our own, leading to both growth and virtue. And yet...I have noticed myself being lonely more now than I ever was as a child.

Analyzing this, I have reached the conclusion that it is simply human selfishness. Science has shown that people are happier when they have fewer choices. More choices lead to more indecision, which leads to regret after the final decision is made. I didn't have a choice in my solitude as a child; I couldn't very well run away from home in search of companionship. However, now that I see what I missed - and, in many ways, what I am still missing - I want it badly. It is human nature to covet, which is why God devotes the last two of the ten commandments to the subject. What we see as desirable we want for ourselves. What we have and enjoy in small quantities we crave more of. We are constantly in a rat race in search of fulfillment, and the cycle never ends.

Well, I suppose I should clarify. We cannot end the cycle on our own. However, at the risk of sounding cliche, I propose that God can end it for us. As a cradle Catholic, I have been taught literally from infancy that God loves us, that He watches over us, that He is always with us...and soon and so forth. However, the image of an invisible God - no matter how omnipotent - is sometimes a cold comfort for the tactile person. The phrase, "Blessed are those who have not seen and believe," certainly comes to mind; but that still takes a heroic leap of faith.

At an unusual meeting last night (involving strawberries, ice cream, and a laughing nun), I heard about an interesting concept. It is called the Examen Prayer, and was apparently propagated by St. Ignatius of Loyola. It has five steps, all centered around cultivating an awareness of Christ in our lives. It is essentially a spiritual inventory, useful for both those who know who they are and where they stand, and for those who - like me - tend to be more wayward and lost than particularly focused. I, for one, am thinking of giving it a try.

This is a site I found interesting, though the method as described therein is somewhat different from the one the good laughing nun shared with us last night. I think it isn't so much the exact five steps that matter, but rather the end result. And please, don't get me started on the whole "do the ends justify the means" question; I've argued the point far more than I'd care to over the past few weeks.

Well, dear readers, that's my say. What about you? I'm sure none of you have ever felt lonely. (Sarcasm Alert!)

Any comments? Suggestions? Raucous laughter at my expense? Regardless, I say as always,


God bless,
PHC