How to Fight the Loneliness
It's not as heavy as it sounds
I’m a bit of a dabbler. Like a bee — I know what I like and can figure out where to find it. But even if there’s plenty of what I like, I still fly around to get a nice variety of tastes and smells. Floating from one interest to another.
The fun of dabbling is that I have plenty of shared interests with plenty of people. We can talk about books, gardening, music, children, healthcare, the climate… Bring the conversation and mood up or down, depending on the topic.
I came here to put some words down (writing, that’s another one!). The challenge with dabbling is that I’m a jack of all trades, master of none (well, will I ever feel like I’ve “mastered” anything?). And I ramble. And go on winding tangents. And I second-guess. And my ego-self gets in there and says “what the fuck are you doing? who are you writing to? do you know that internet strangers might see this??!” And? And what? And think — “Oh Fry, you do go on”…? Okay - I’ll work on accepting that. So, onward!
I’ve recently dabbled in a few things that have resonated deeply in my soul: a podcast and book called Restorative Faith; the lectures and writings of Alan Watts; the substack musings of Nick Offerman (in addition to his books and interest in Wendell Berry); and the book “How to Write One Song” by Jeff Tweedy. I’m all over the place right now, bouncing between all of these, but feeling simultaneously lost and understood. Continuing to dive deeper into a rabbit hole, backing up and taking a different tunnel, and loving who I meet along the way. Like I’ve found my people, I just don’t know what box this fits in. I want to define this - as a theology, as a way of being, as a lifestyle… but I can’t find the words.
So instead of trying to define it, I just wander around until someone wants to join in the conversation. Agnosticism? Loneliness in this digitally connected but spiritually disconnected society? Music as a language?
And I’ll keep digesting, taking another bite before I finish the last, noticing how the flavors meld. And every once in a while, finding a moment of (boldness? bravery? excitement?) umph — that gets me putting some words down and letting them be where they are, in plain sight.
So here I am!