Have you ever felt lonely? Holiday time can bring on that feeling, that feeling of being totally and agonizingly lonely.

I see loneliness as a type of deep pain which I feel in my heart like a huge weight that doesn’t lighten easily. It’s a very empty state of being. I feel not only separate from others, but far apart from them — eons of miles apart from them, totally distant, in fact. People seem to be unreachable with walls and barriers between them and me. It’s a vacant and hopeless feeling.

At times, I have felt lonely in a crowd of strangers, everyone being different from me; other times, not at all, feeling my presence was part of an adventure. A lot has to do with mood and perspective at the time. I have also felt lonely in a group of co-workers where the conversation revolved around the latest clothing styles or political dramas. I realized my interests were quite different from theirs.

Feeling alone is different from feeling lonely. Personally, I like being alone with myself to create, to relax and to reenergize. But I am not lonely at those times. I don’t have to have people to walk with, shop with, or exercise with. Yet, I do reach a point of realizing I need to connect with others and the social aspect of leading a healthy life comes pressing down on me. Then I know it’s time to connect.

So I search for someone who can understand what I’m feeling, someone who has also been there. Maybe they haven’t had the same exact experience, but I think their feelings or reactions may have been similar to mine. Empathy and understanding is what I need at that time. That becomes the basis for sharing and sharing divides any pain. It lessens the agony and speeds me on to gaining a new healthy perspective on my situation.

I have found it best not to resist or bury that feeling of loneliness but to accept it and try to rectify the situation. I know that wallowing in it does not bring relief. It just deepens the pain and causes a great deal of suffering. In accepting that lonely feeling, I sometimes sit with it for a while and allow myself to totally feel the emotion, coming to understand why I am feeling so. Accepting that it’s part of the human condition allows me to realize that it’s all part of my being human. And that’s okay. We experience fear and anger and sadness but also joy and happiness and kindness. Realizing I can do something to help rid myself of this pain comes to the surface of my consciousness. And I act.

First and foremost, I take my lonely state to Mother Nature and feel her presence. By viewing her colors and listening to her sounds, I again see beauty. I find it very uplifting and maybe get an idea about how I can help myself, who I can talk to. Maybe I can visit someone and try to be there for them, taking my mind off of myself. Those are things I can do and my feeling of loneliness seems to melt away.

Loneliness may become a challenge for people as they age. Friends move away and relocate to warmer climates, relatives begin to develop chronic illnesses or pass away. We lose abilities and find it difficult to participate in activities we have always loved. We become slower and weaker and body parts begin to break down.

Yet, on a more positive note, because we are older, we have our memories. “Remember when” moments are indeed special as we share with friends and siblings. Through memories of decorating the Christmas tree, following a favorite cookie recipe, or wrapping gifts we may still garner feelings of joy and excitement. But there is the chance that these very memories may precipitate a feeling of nostalgia and a somewhat lonely feeling, if we let it. We have cried with our siblings, laughed with them, forgiven each other for childhood antics because we now understand where we were at the time in our development. We can now speak how we feel without offense. Our whole perspective has changed over years brought about by our own experiences in life. And our differences or “differentness” is more accepting and acceptable.

I have been told many times over my life that I’m “different.” The tone of voice used at those times left little to the imagination that it was said as it was meant — a negative comment. But I have grown to the point where I can take that comment, not as a criticism, but as a positive quality that I possess. It means I am unique — and that’s not bad. It means I think my own thoughts and don’t rally behind the latest popular agenda. If I agree, that’s fine. If I don’t, that’s fine also. Now I can say I’m glad I’m different or, rather, “unique.”

Being “different” can mean being a little more efficient than most or a little more sincere than most or even a little more kindly. It can mean we see things in a decidedly different way, a deeper way. It need not be seen as a negatively judgemental call by someone other than you. Being different can mean being true to yourself, your authentic “self.”

So, I ask you. Are you “different”? Good for you! Embrace that quality and see it as a compliment. You are indeed “unique.”

Accepting our uniqueness begins the process of modifying the intensity of the loneliness we may at times feel. Add to that the support of the Natural World. That support is key. We need only open ourselves up to receiving that most precious gift, allowing the loneliness we are feeling to gradually melt away.

So, again, let’s look to Mother Nature.

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Debby Havas is an author living in Jay. Her writings describe her experiences with the healing energies of Mother Nature.