Is Loneliness Scary?

When entering the path of practice, this question becomes inevitable.  The path of practice is often a lonely journey, where close relationships or friendships sometimes become distant, as they no longer share the same language.  Not because they change, but because we have chosen a direction few people understand. This difference creates a distance, and that distance is what we call loneliness.

But loneliness, if understood correctly, is not a fear that needs to be avoided.  It is the space where we return to ourselves, like birds returning to their nests at dusk, like rivers returning to the ocean. Physical loneliness does not mean avoiding people; it means creating space for silence.  Mental loneliness occurs when the mind is not consumed by an endless stream of thoughts, and we no longer need to rely on external stimulation to feel complete.  This is a form of inner freedom, characterized by the absence of mental noise, accompanied by alertness and awareness.

Some people fear that they will become lethargic and dreamy if they do not think about anything.  But it is just an illusion of a mind accustomed to being disturbed.  Just as a small pebble can cause ripples on a calm lake, so can our soul. But the water cannot be muddy if the lake is deep and wide, no matter how much wind there is.  That stillness is strength, the foundation of clarity and freedom.

Master Toai Khanh once said that when he preached, he connected with another world—the world of words, ideas, and emotions.  But when he was alone, that was the actual spiritual world, where there was no longer any dependence on language or the praise of others. Zen masters from ancient times also realized this.  They knew that the less dependent on the outside, the closer to the truth.

Dissatisfaction is a disease.  People hurt themselves by clinging to unfulfilled expectations.  I remember my sister-in-law, who had been with my brother through difficult years, protecting each other on the dangerous journey of crossing the border to find freedom. Yet in her old age, she declared that she had never loved him.  Was it a denial of the past or just a way to excuse her pain?  It was also a form of loneliness.

I live alone.  My brothers and sisters are living together in the same place.  Today’s weather is beautiful, with white clouds, a deep blue sky, and occasional rain, accompanied by distant thunder that is surprisingly quiet.  When I came to live in Florida, the lizards running around in the garden startled me every time I saw them. But now that I've grown accustomed to them, they are cute creatures.  Where I live, there are also many birds. I listen to them, and the wind chases each other on the treetops.  It is so peaceful and pleasant. I have everything I need… People are gradually leaving me to give me a small quiet corner, to live alone, so what else is there to make me sad? Just good books, some food, and calm.  Everything else becomes redundant.

People go to temples or monasteries to feel like they are devout Buddhists, donate to charity, and may think they are seeking happiness.  However, they do not view their happiness as an external emotion; they do not sit alone to discover the happiness within.  If daily calculations, frustrations, and pollution continue to weigh on the soul, we will not be happy.  Things always go wrong in every situation, and people always blame each other.  “I am unhappy because of other people's mistakes.”  Strangely, we often fail to recognize our shortcomings.  We often look to others to share our thoughts and to be affirmed that we are intelligent. However, in practice, showing off knowledge only inflates the ego, pulling us further away from the necessary silence.  The pride of knowledge and the desire to be recognized are the invisible strings that bind the mind.

I have learned to live alone.  Sometimes, I want to share my deepest thoughts but realize that few people listen.  After my mother passed away, I felt more clearly the difference between myself and the world around me.  That may be why I chose the path of practice, even though I am just a lay person.  I know I have many attachments, love music, and want to talk to close friends because I know they need me to confide in.  I began to feel that I was living a straightforward and peaceful life, although I was not always happy.  However, in my heart, there was no longer any attachment to the world where people fought for life.  I may have to wander for many more lives because I do not think of myself as a monk.  I also want to spend more time meditating and being quiet, away from the chaotic world outside.  The world is becoming increasingly chaotic.  Dissatisfaction and suffering are burning like a forest fire, spreading far and wide like a contagious disease.  Few people appreciate the ancient wisdom, contentment, and simplicity that the world is moving away from, in favor of science.  But amidst the chaos, there are still moments of peace, such as when I see a lizard changing colors on a pot of orchids—a miracle of nature, a reminder that simplicity is always present, no matter how the world outside changes.  But above all, I long for a quiet place undisturbed by greed, anger, and delusion.

I only hope that this path of practice will lead me to the place that Buddhism calls the Pure Land.