The Art of Being Alone (Pt 2): A Lonely Seeker’s Tale
3 Part Post: can be read separately, better collectively Part 1 Link: The Art of Being Alone — Doing Nothing
Puberty, virginity, meditation, and babies. You name it and I am a late bloomer in life, except when it comes to the apparent midlife crisis at the fine age of 33.
See I left the corporate job. The money and security. My friends and family. I was drowning in the nebulous fog of San Francisco and an existential itch needed to be scratched.
But in my newfound freedom — was I running away from responsibility? Escaping competition and failure? Was I the unchosen kid in dodgeball, now calling the rat race game stupid? Or was I an unmarried, unloved, and unappreciated lonely black sheep who was escaping my shame in an ideological spiritual dream of attaining prestige via enlightenment? Hoping to find all the answers and escape all the pain of life — while discovering other black sheep to escape with to our harmonious organic farm to make black sheep babies?
Who the hell knows. But I did know this.
The consumerism treadmill had drained my spirit. The perpetual game of social signaling and competition for status that is the American Way — was eating me alive inside. And the weed, wine and work of selling more widgets could no longer silence the sirens call.
Whether delusion or hope, there had to be more to this game. And so a 'Dharma Bum' was born.
The more I marinated in solitude, the more I searched, the more I meditated being a good little Buddhist — I found a peace of sorts. But I also became lonely as fuck.
If you dare, follow me to the dark underworld of the spiritual journey. This is the grit and shit that is rarely shared. This will not be the humble brag land of Instagram — no staged yoga tree poses and meditation selfies here.
Instead, it will be both a warning and a tale — of the loneliness that suffocated my heart. A loneliness that you would never guess — filled with sea monsters, mermaids and zombies.
Alf’s lonely island
My loneliness on my journey wasn’t for family dinners. Nor an old friend’s laugh. Or a lover’s embrace. Of course part of me missed that — I’m not a Spock robot — regardless of what my ex’es say.
But what stung deep — was not only a social loneliness, but also an ideological and psychological loneliness. For the more I learned — paradoxically — the less I knew. The more I grew, the less I had to hold onto. With my newfound space, time and a clarity of mind — I could now see through all my previously cherished beliefs, cultural norms, and priorities in life.
In leaving the mainland, now at sea I drifted between deconstructed knowns of the old world — and the unbuilt unknowns of the new world. I found myself alone AND lonely.
Alone and lonely? What the hell is the difference you might ask?
To appreciate our lonely journey we must clarify these common words. And on one ass shattering and smelly 12 hour Indian bus ride — with space to be alone and do nothing — this poem arose...
5 differences between Loneliness & Being Alone
*Nerd Note: research suggests loneliness (less social interaction) in old age decreases life expectancy to the same degree as smoking nearly 1 pack of cigs a day!.
So yes — practicing the Art of Being Alone can nourish us (especially for us introverts). Sure, like broccoli is good for you — part of you may have known this.
Fair — here is the catch most meditators, yogis, seekers, or ‘spiritual but not religious’ types don’t anticipate:
The more you’re alone, particularly in contemplation and meditation, you will find unfathomable beauty and danger. Incredibly high mental states and (potentially) terrors of your own mental hell. Alone in solitude you will find liberating insights and devastating loneliness.
Sure you may perceive many of the mind’s magic tricks, but you also may be isolated in a free fall with NO ONE and NO THING to hold on to.
I for one didn’t foresee this loneliness. I tasted the beauty of being alone and the lonely pain of the Dark Nights of the Soul. My quest made me a sadistic 'connoisseur of my neurosis', yielding a palette of 4 dimensions of loneliness.
This will be our map of monsters, mermaids, and zombies.
MY ACHY BREAKY HEART:
In cultivating The Art of Being Alone, my loneliness had many flavors:
See my closest friends and family supported me — but DID NOT “GET ME”
Comforting old ideologies and worldviews capsized
The hollow rungs of the former social status ladder crumbled
Reassuring social identities and narratives of the ego-self shriveled
The illusion of control — of this mind and experience — dissolved
Every adventurer to the underworld will wrestle with this nagging tension of renouncing the mainstream. Of leaving your beloved tribe — of unlearning all that you knew. To full say yes to your heart, part of you has to say reject the way of life of those in your heart.
Sure, leaving is hard, but once you’re in the rocky sea, there you will really get kicked in the nuts.
You realize how much your mind took for granted the sociological and cultural comforts of dry land. How much your tribe was like an AA support group allowing you to tolerate all the bullshit. How the reassuring support of your work wives and husbands empowered you to slug through the politics (thanks Trisha). That even if unsatiated in the rat race, how knowing every other responsible adult was also playing the same game helped you plug along.
But the solitary wanderer will be alone, lonely and uncertain.
Sure an entrepreneur swims in loneliness and uncertainty too. Risking it all on some wild idea while people call her crazy. Haters will hate — but friends, family, and society at least get the game she is playing — even if her blockchain embedded Augmented Reality accessory sharing platform is a little “out there”.
But the meditator, seeker, or yogi?
Most of the (western) world — thinks you’re bat shit crazy. Many think I am lost ‘finding myself’. Their lips praise you, but their eyes pity you (or maybe I am insecure, probably both).
I am not trying to find myself, but transcend the “self”. I’m not lost searching — but exploring, learning, and growing. This sounds noble (or juvenile), but in renouncing mainstream society, most of the time you’re naked and lonely.
I felt alienated from almost everyone I knew and loved. I have a fire that rages in my core, but those I cherished either didn’t care, didn’t know, or simply could not understand. Thus, those that were closest to my heart — now felt oceans away.
This loneliness will be an albatross of pain and confusion around your heart.
This alienation from the social and cultural “WE” of the mainland, is only the first dimension of loneliness (yay).
This is where many give up, where many drown. Where many cave in to whatever comforting New Age pirate ship comes floating by promising you shelter, safety and good vibes (sorry if crystals are your thing, I actually do think they can work if you Believe in them. But so can any other placebo like a rabbit turd).
Turd tangents aside, how can you fuel your authentic fire during a shit storm (I lied) of loneliness?
Easy, just ask the bad ass Arya Stark
THE SEEKER’S SAIL
Just as my favorite GoT character Arya (ugh isn’t she everybody’s ?) wonders what's west of Westeros? West of where the map stops? This innate curiosity — is the seeker’s way.
Like Arya, the curiosity for truth and exploration doesn’t just dare you, it makes you say fuck it.
You don’t have a choice — you must know. You leave all you know behind, surrendering comfort, security and reassurance — all to scratch a primal itch of curiosity. Or so the fantasy goes.
Some think you’re running away. But you know you’re on a hunt. You’re training. You’re exploring. You’re being — your being.
As a kid, next to our house was a large creek with a 100 foot deep ravine. I was obsessed with finding the water’s source — where did it all begin? Exploring steps of Indian Pyramids (later TBD as erosion, whoops), I would march through that forest and gulley all damn day trying to find where it all began. But it would always get dark before my quest was complete.
And now?
That same child (hey I said I am late bloomer) wanders the caverns of consciousness. It’s not for everyone, but it’s my way. Not that I even have a say. And when I look back, there was no other way. This classic archetype — the solitary wanderer for truth (or explorer) — is maybe a delusional fantasy — or just maybe — it’s grooved into my being like that ravine.
Others may long for finding greater meaning and beauty. Or a longing to be free from pain and suffering. For others to follow and experience awakening like the Buddha or Jesus. Or like an Artist, to build upon and create their own masterpiece.
Whatever your reason, you must trust your reason to the core*. It will be your companion in dark times.
Like Wilson, your inspiration will be your companion in lonely times.
The Buddha said that the desire for awakening was the last craving to let go of when crossing the stream to awakening. It is needed to motivate one through all the storms. So trust your inspiration (skilfully) through your journey — otherwise you will cave and drown not so happily ever after.
And for me this ferocious curiosity — for better or worse — is my companion in a sea of loneliness.
Loneliness Dimension #2:
Uncertainty Monsters and Meaning Mermaids
So you’re becoming comfortable in your new lonely skin. In the rear view mirror (yes metaphorical spiritual ships have mirrors!) is all that comforting support of the old world.
Ok, so what’s fucking next? Where is this wind blowing us? Are there any avocados around here I miss Avo toast? Is that land in the fog up there?
Welcome to the chaotic and vast Sea of Uncertainty. This is where the thrill of adventure runs into the angst of the constant unknown. We love our control, but a spiritual journey must learn to surrender plans and schedules. Some will be known unknowns, others unknown unknowns.
This is what many of my beloved friends couldn’t fathom recently when they were asking me for my “5 Year-Plan” — whatever the hell that is.
Mastering the Art of Being Alone has no Project Management Gantt charts to optimize. No statistical regression to forecast the future. No soothing security of check boxes and To Do lists.
Trust me, I sure as hell wish it did!
Instead, it’s a never ending spiral of uncertainty and personal growth. Swimming in the ebbs and flows of the journey, you let go of the comforting docks of routine and certainty.
When you're working in a consistent job there is a sadistic sense of comfort, organization and control to it. There are objectives, goals, quarterly reports, deliverables and launches. There is a reinforcing structure, role and routine of the job, family, and society.
In the Sea of Uncertainty — that shit is behind you. In front of you, is a vastness of the unknown, the swirling winds of anxiety and doubt.
“If you can see your path laid out in front of you step by step, you know it's not your path. Your own path you make with every step you take” ~ Joseph Campbell
When people want to know my 5-year plan, I often share this analogy.
Like Lewis and Clark trekking the Rocky Mountains, I have climbed one peak and my focus is on the next. I know where I need to focus in the near term — even if I don’t know exactly where I need to do it — or what is beyond that ridge. I am not drinking margaritas on the beaches of Bali, nor just going with the flow maaaaan — but deep into training the heart and mind. I am navigating this mountain path now, marching — aware and centered in knowing presence — even if I do not know where it 100% goes. I don’t have plans for what to do on the beaches of California in 5 years. Hell I might go to Oregon!
But that doesn’t mean uncertainty doesn’t nag at me like a kid on a trip asking if we are there yet 137 times. The Sea of Uncertainty is filled with anxiety monsters I must battle again and again and again.
Anxiety monsters are always watching you. Waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
With no land in site, this will be your lonely challenge. The world will doubt WTF you are doing, for they offer no prizes for the game you are playing. Yet you must sail on — lonely and fighting sea monsters of your mind.
And that's when you start fantasizing about Mermaids.
Is that a Meaning Mermaid?
With your growing clarity of your mindfulness, you may now wrestle with your mind in all the fog and uncertainty. The mind is a meaning making machine of perception, concepts, and pattern recognition. But in the Sea of Uncertainty it will go mad with only sea monsters.
The mind loves to make this nebulous world tangible. It will fight for something comforting and solid, longing for some life raft to snuggle.
And that's when you should be weary of following mermaids. Whether a conceptual belief system on how the path is and must be, a living “Buddha” teaching in the jungle of Kerala, India who will only share the true teachings if you recruit 30 more people (true story), karmic destinies, or cosmic 'synchronicities' to name a few.
For me, it was delving down the rabbit hole of a conceptual meditative framework outlining in detail the 16 stages to awakening. (Mahasi Sayadaw Progress of Insight within Theravada Vipassana via the book MCTB).
My lesson is not that everything of substance is all imaginary mermaids. Hell maybe they do exist. Maybe that is the new world on the horizon. But with mindfulness, discernment, and healthy skepticism — be careful is all. Have faith in (healthy) doubt.
The map is not the territory. I for one got obsessed with maps. Sometimes you need to navigate in the dark, to be comfortable not knowing. To know you don’t have it all figured out, and that’s ok. There is a reason Socrates was declared the wisest man in Athens, because he knew that he did not know anything. The same with the I Don’t Know mind of Zen, a surrendering of the conceptual mind allows for the absolute to shine.
Of course this surrendering to the unknown needs a middle way. A hippie dippie just going with the flow man can be dangerous. Some seekers can wander aimlessly forever. Collecting techniques like a bag of tricks aka ‘spiritual materialism'. While others cultivate meditative prowess to compartmentalize their problems, insecurities and fears (spiritual bypassing).
I sometimes am fearful this is me — but my inner most intentions say otherwise. (A future therapist might disagree)
It has not always been lonely on the path. I have met so many amazing travelers and fellow black sheep that are simply being their being.
Ryan the wandering yooka-laylee playing yoga teacher.
Helen the former consultant turned sound healer.
Henrique the 24 year old Mahasi Vipassana teacher.
Celena the neuroscientist turned environmental activist.
Ravi the permaculture educator and farmer.
Pradesh, the MBA Wall street banker turned non-duality scholar and master in the hills of India.
Busting their ass with grit — learning and growing — with and about life — all in their own random, eccentric and unique ways. They are not escaping, but are masters of letting things unfold in the Sea of Uncertainty. They did not go from A to B, but followed their northstar while also surrendering to the unknown.
Many masters have said, it’s a gateless gate. A pathless path. You are blind to it, yet it unfolds.
Along the way you will look for things to cling to. Meditation Maps and gurus. New Age purifying ceremonies and systems. If they are helpful and give you meaning great, but be weary of losing the forest for the trees, of idolizing them, and deluding yourself. Are they really the truth you sought or a comforting mermaid to be little spoon with?
“The first principle is that you must not fool yourself and you are the easiest person to fool” Richard Feynman
This may sound simple, but when you’re ideologically and spiritually lonely as fuck — longing for some social and conceptual raft — this will be your test.
Confident you’re not fooling yourself with mermaids and having bludgeoned your sea monsters with compassion, now shit might get real. On the horizon is a wall of sinister black clouds. A storm is a brewing.
Cider please.
Loneliness Dimension #3
An Empty SHIP OF ZOMBIES
A famous thought experiment, the Theseus Paradox, asks if all the parts of this famous ship are replaced over time, is it the same ship?
The Buddhist answer would be there is no ship, only the concept of a ship. But we will avoid a long and tedious discussion of “emptiness” (of experience having no innate nature independant of a fabricating mind).
The more you explore on your spiritual quest, the more you explore your ship — that is your sense of self itself.
That deeply ingrained feeling in your head, of me up there, a mini homunculus that is thinking, making decisions, and wiping it’s own ass. Understanding this more and more deeply is what most “spirituality” is about.
What is this me, my and I? Let's briefly add some meat to this not so original metaphorical ship of self.
Modern cognitive science outlines at least 5 selves:
Narrative Self: the sense of a continuous self and autobiographical memories that make you you (thus the weird sense of death when a living being has senility).
Volitional Self: your intention and agency that is appears to be the cause of things.
Bodily Self: your ownership of this body. Embodied cognition interfaces here.
Social Self: Roles, traits, and relational (e.g. CEO by day, Mom by night)
Perspectile Self: Our sense organs (e.g. eyes, ears etc) contain a perspective of "me":. This also has a proximity to information processing which may be why your itchy toe feels "down there" and scalp is "up there" while "I am here".
*Nerd Note: In Buddhism this is usually framed as the 5 Aggregates: form/body, feelings, perceptions, mental activity (thoughts, intentions, formations) and consciousness. And when you explore them deeply, you find “no self”.
Anyways, the main point is this isn't merely philosophical. And even more importantly, this is about pragmatic dharma in day to day living. It's not just a spiritual game of hide and go seek, these various selves are a source of much of life's extra stress and suffering.
So on you go, like the ship of Theseus, exploring and deconstructing what makes “me” — “me”.
After extensive meditation practice you realize you are not your thoughts and intentions. Nor do you control them, you only witness them arise and pass like a fly through the kitchen. The same with your embodied emotions and body sensations — they happen to you, but they are not “you”.
On and on the hall of mirrors goes. In the old world, you had a very static sense of self. Now, in your world of Vipassana dissection, it’s a dynamic and vibratory humming pinball machine. This all may sound weird, but it is not an idea to believe, rather something you can directly experience.
The closer you inspect the more you see. With more practice your mind becomes sharper, faster and clearer. Awesome!
But in all that clarity you (might) also find darkness. I sure did, it was gift wrapped and everything.
You start to doubt what is really real anyway? Everything dissipates like a fart in the wind of awareness. It comes, it dances, and it goes in a finger snap.
Every pain, but also ever pleasure. Everything is deconstructed into blips and vibrations, thoughts and micro movements.
And soon, there is no ground to stand on. It’s groundless ground where you are in free fall. With all the insights come a prison of clarity and disorientation. Or as one author put it, “ ‘As if standing on fishes’, as if the ground had a life of its own and was always swimming away”.
I now felt like a kid who learned that Santa Claus was a fraud. Disenchanted, all my former joys felt like a hollow lie. Now my craving for chocolate seemed formulaic and robotic like dominos falling.
For me, this is when I simply felt like a walking zombie. I had a cute little plan of wisdom and seeing things as they really are. Now, I was a lonely depressed zombie with a sinking ship at sea.
Welcome to the Dark Night of the Soul. Fuck me.
I not only left behind my tribe, beliefs, and priorities, but also faced the suicide of my ego “self”. I was a raw and edgy Zombie shitting my pants, drifting in darkness, clenching onto a sinking ship that you now realize is ugly, smelly and probably was all a self delusion.
For some, this dark freak out period is short. For others, a dark, moody, edgy and depression like funk can last for years*.
(*Nerd Note: Dark Night of the Soul comes from the Christian mystic of St John of the Cross, is referred to as the Dukkha Nanas, Knowledges of Suffering, in Burmese Theravada Buddhism, and was popularized publicly by Daniel Ingram’s book MCTB — who argues many enter this without being hardcore meditators via certain spontaneous experiences of concentration in everyday life ). It is not simply depression, but facing and understanding ways you cause suffering in your own life.
By deconstructing the processes of mind and body, in all the rubble was one of my best friends — loneliness. Except I wasn’t totally lonely, I was surrounded by my inner demons. My worst faculaties: being judgemental, aversive, argumentative, pessimistic, and moody —all baked into a gargantuan shit cake that was always in my face.
I had this tormenting darkness that was a big dark secret. My mom, dad, brother, family, old and new friends — could not understand. I was a zombie marching in loneliness who simply put on a poser happy face.
But I must say, Dark Nights are not a normal scenario. Westerners like myself, who are too impatient to ordain as monks and thus navigate at sea alone are more prone to this.
This is why the Buddha and most spiritual traditions created a Sangha, or a community of like minded, to support you. A brother and sisterhood of swamis, monks, yogis and brethren.
So with all my alone time living in monasteries, this leads to our last dimension of loneliness. Me dating Gurus.
And like my romantic life — it's complicated and lonely.
Part III coming next week:
A META-MODERN MAN IN SEARCH OF A SOUL
Please share along if you think some lonely or spiritual soul may benefit — and let me know what you liked, what could be improved.
~ ALF