The first few listens, it was the beat and opening notes that hooked me. I kept listening. More than two dozen times. I’m still listening. Each time the experience becomes richer.<\/p>\n
There is a curve to the sound; the woman’s voice feels like caresses. The man’s voice is a gentle embrace. The duet of harmony, two voices connecting, the empathy: You’ve been lonely, too long. Let me keep you company. I see you. You are me.<\/em><\/p>\n And then the minor chords in the middle of the song. Feels like a palate expander opening in my throat, the ache is so deep. I think of the loneliness I wore for so, so many years, a sweater of desolation. I remember how it felt. I am not lonely that way anymore. But I know people who are. I let myself connect with that anguish, allow the tears to rise and flow.<\/p>\n I think of my father and my mother. Of their fear and frailty. I think of children, especially those born into circumstances where there is anger, abuse, fear, and pain. My own little girl self, tucked deeply away, holding that loneliness. <\/p>\n The loneliness of poverty, of struggling to get the next meal, a safe bed. The loneliness of being bullied, mocked, cast out. The loneliness of war. The loneliness arising when we believe that those who reject us speak the truth, when we accept those stories as tru. The loneliness we attempt to hide by doing better, earning more, buying more, “succeeding.” The loneliness arising from rigid beliefs about the way the world “should” work.<\/p>\n The loneliness of not being seen and met. <\/p>\n I feel the existential loneliness of being in this world where the sense of separation pervades; where division, difference, individuation, and distinction are coveted. How that coveting and striving cements the loneliness. <\/p>\n How many times do we interact without truly meeting each other? <\/p>\n Come, sit with me. Turn up the sound and give a listen. <\/p>\n