There is increasing talk of an epidemic of loneliness and the problems caused by our growing isolation. A good book that also deals with this topic is “Anatomy of Loneliness” by Teal Swan. Another word I like to use instead of loneliness is alienation or uprootedness.
I can relate to this feeling very well. For a long time, I searched for connection without realizing that I was looking in the wrong places. I traveled around the world, searching for it in other cultures and other people.
I was uprooted. I was a wanderer. I was like a leaf in the wind. Constantly searching. Constantly looking for a home in someone else or trying to build it there, or building it in such a way that I could leave at any time because it wasn’t quite ideal anyway.
I was a nomad at heart without really understanding what that meant. At the same time, I constantly longed for roots, for connection, for family.
The Mirage
For anyone seeking connection, the internet is extremely tempting. It conveys the idea that we can build a virtual home that we can take with us wherever we go. It conveys the illusion of connectedness. But what it actually does is keep us busy and show us an oasis in the desert that doesn’t even exist.
And as long as we don’t realize that it’s a mirage, an illusion, we think that we just need to keep busy with all these virtual things. Then we prefer to suppress that vague feeling that something isn’t quite right.
But I have experienced that there is another way.
The Oasis
At first, it was only brief moments when I found the actual oasis. When I went into the wilderness, I was in a place where I could simply be there and exist. I could open myself up. I could make true connections. I could experience what it really feels like to be deeply connected to everything around me, in every cell of my body. There was no more searching, no more loneliness, no more emptiness.
But it didn’t last long. It was a temporary phenomenon. A special moment that was given to me to show me what was actually possible, natural, and healthy.
The question was no longer what I was actually missing, but how I could invite more of it into my life.
Choose your environment
When we observe pack animals such as wolves, the location and surrounding landscape are crucial in determining how their culture, behavior, and dynamics develop.
The same applies to us humans. Not only the people around us, but also our physical environment shapes a large part of who we are. Therefore, it is of course relevant which place we choose to put down roots.
But if we remain in a constant state of searching and constantly change our environment, we carry this feeling of rootlessness with us. We don’t even notice what is happening around us. We don’t notice what is changing or what is staying the same. We cannot build relationships with the living beings with whom we share our place on this earth. And we don’t realize that in our search for the perfect place, we are missing all the places that are “good enough.”
Because there is no such thing as the perfect place. Only when we decide on a place can we make it the perfect place.
Putting down roots
In German, putting down roots often has negative connotations. It is synonymous with standstill or stagnation.
But what if we lack roots altogether and fly through life like leaves in the wind?
The less rooted we are, the more we allow ourselves to be influenced and manipulated by others. Then we lack inner grounding, which leads to fear, insecurity, and loneliness.
But if we allow ourselves to truly arrive at a place, to truly put down roots (in the best sense of the word), then this can help us realize that we were never really alone and therefore don’t have to feel lonely. That we are always connected, even if we don’t notice it at the moment.
And when we repeatedly make ourselves aware of this feeling of connectedness, this realization of being in the oasis, then not only does the loneliness disappear. It also gives us a deep sense of safety and trust, which in turn allows us to open ourselves further to connectedness.
Then we also recognize our true self more and more and cannot be so easily shaken in our needs and on our path.
Nature Monastery
My project, which started as an idea of a tiny house village and is now more likely to become a nature monastery, is a first attempt to create such a space. I took many steps during construction to deliberately build relationships. Relationships with the land, the creatures that already live here, but also relationships with the newly added materials and structures and the people who helped me build them.
Every step, no matter how small or large, is another little root that grows. Every time I harvest fruit, cut the grass, remove a pile of wood because a new part of a structure is being built. Even every time I just walk through the garden, it is a small root that grows. I am building a relationship, a connection with this piece of land that I have taken on to care for. And with each of these actions, I feel less lonely because I am part of this community of living beings around me.
