An ex-lover of mine (God bless her heart), once rated me an absolute 11 for egotistical tendencies, on a scale of 1 to 10. Hard to admit at first, but she was right. Sadly, it took me so long to realize it. Mainly because I took it very personally, and I took it hard. But I was just a stupid kid back then. I didn’t know anything about life. I was blind, but now I see.
Ego. We all have it in us. It’s the one giving us delusions of grandeur. It’s behind every innocent display of inflated sense of self-importance. It gives a false sense of pride. Bruised ego makes people refuse the idea that they might not be right. They can hardly stand being corrected. They become defensive or embittered over criticisms and suggestions hurled at them. Which is quite unfortunate, because those are, by and large, exactly what a person would need to hear to evolve as a better person.
Ah, look at all the lonely people. All the lonely people, where do they all come from? All the lonely people, where do they all belong? The famous hook from The Beatles’ hit “Eleanor Rigby”, I must say, sparks interesting questions on the ever-elusive subject: Loneliness. Where do lonely people come from? Where do they all belong?
Loneliness. Sucks. So. Hard. It stings. I believe it’s a dreaded road that everyone must’ve traveled at least once in their lives. There’s a reason why everybody seems to try their best to avoid it. Nobody seems to miss it. Yet it happens, time and time again. And when it does, it weighs us down and floods our minds with unsettling thoughts.
So, what is it then? It was until I stumbled upon the essay of the seventeenth English author, Abraham Cowley, “On Solitude”, did it dawn on me the answer, along with what could be the most alienating words a man could’ve ever said…