A Letter on Isolation and Purpose
By: Jennifer Fiorile
Illustration by: Carlos PX
Dear Jenn,
You seem like you’ve been a little listless lately. If we’re being honest, it’s been that way for a long time. It seems like the life you want to live is always happening in a different place and time. I guess that’s a normal feeling. Learning and practicing the art of meditation wouldn’t be as meaningful if it weren’t part of the human experience to want something different from what you have. You’ve chosen a life that takes place far away from most of the people you love. At first, it was clear why: adventure, seeing the world. Now that the novelty has worn off, it seems less clear what the point of being so far from home is. The homesickness has never gone away, it only got worse, especially when you really started to understand how finite life is. Do you feel like you’re still on an adventure? At one time, you wanted this, a life on the high seas so to speak. A life that was different than the one you had in the familiar, close suburbs. That’s what you’ve told me. I don’t think you realized then it isn’t hyperbole when people talk about the grass always being greener, that dreams aren’t the same as reality.
The most difficult part of living with the reality of your choices is how constant it is. Everyday you wake up and have to accept that this is where you are. It’s not a bad place. It’s very good actually. There’s a lot of things that you’ve told me you like about your life. But you can’t have everything you want. You struggle to reconcile living far away from home and having a good life with living near your family and, at the very least, having a good family life. Going back home would be a gamble in terms of your working life, but you’d also have a wider range of options because everything would be in your native tongue. What it boils down to is that there’s more security and certainty where you are now but there’s significantly less social contact. For a part-time extrovert, that’s been a struggle for you. It seems like recent global events have made you realize that you were already living in a state of quarantine, of social isolation. I think you knew you were feeling isolated but I don’t think you understood how much until people around the world had to live the same lifestyle. Of course now there’s nothing to be done about having more of a social life. Stuck again. I’m sorry to say.
You won’t be stuck forever. I know it seems hard to remember that. Life comes in phases. One experience leads to and informs your next experience. That’s mostly what life is: a series of experiences that shape you, guide you, push you, all while time propels you forward. You stumble through your experiences still thinking about the ones you just had and the ones you think might be coming up, trying to orient yourself to the slightly altered reality of each day. Will you miss your family less? Probably not. I think it’s just part and parcel of the life you’re living, but some days will hurt less than others. I think part of your missing those people is due to you feeling uncertain of where you’re going. I think once you start following more of your quiet wishes, hopes, and dreams, you’ll start to feel more peace about where you are and where you’re going.
You’ve described yourself many times as a feather on the wind. Now you’re grounded, settled, and with that comes a certainty and security that you’ve sought for a long time. Do you remember all those times we cried together about feeling unsure of what the future held for us? You never liked having a blank page sprawled out before you. You tend to thrive better when there’s a clear focus (and preferably a deadline). But here, in this phase of life, the nitty gritty of adult life, you have to find your focus yourself. You have to seek out your purpose. Once you do, once you find the thing that your heart, soul, or mind is crying for, I believe you’ll find a sense of peace too.
I hope that this letter helps you in some way. I look forward to our next correspondence.
With Love,
J