I'm out of practice at being lonely. Which is a blessing, really. I mean, how many years have I been bolstered by good friends and close family relationships? And those are still there. It's just that lately I feel as if there's too much Self bubbling out of me to find the proper reception. I don't want to burden my loved ones with more and more and more me-focused chatter, but there are so many thoughts in my head wanting to be heard, to be recognized and acknowledged.

And so I'm lonely, a situation made worse by the part of my brain that doesn't like that feeling and tries to blame others for it: This person is so busy with her new project that she doesn't even have time for you. That person doesn't even seem to listen when you talk. And her? She only wants you in her life when it's convenient!

There's just enough truth in those thoughts to make them dangerous, and so in addition to feeling lonely, I feel alone, as if my friends and family weren't as good or as close as I know they are. I'm so out of practice in taking these feelings and putting them in their proper perspective...or accepting them as they are and hunkering down for a period of intense isolation and growth, which is what I always used to do.

I think I can still remember what that felt like, though. Letting the loneliness move through me, letting it wring sadness and determination and strength from me. Looking to the future, to the person I would be when the tide ebbed. And finding solace in writing, in connecting with my voice and my words even when I couldn't reach anyone else with them.