In solitude, they will learn that saying no does not always show a lack of generosity, and that saying yes is not always a virtue.
And those who are alone in this moment need never be frightened by the words of the devil: “You’re wasting your time.”
Or by the chief demon’s even more potent words: “No one cares about you.”
The Divine Energy is listening to us when we speak to other people, but also when we are still and silent and able to accept solitude as a blessing.
And in that moment, Its light illuminates everything around us and helps us to see that we are necessary, that our presence on Earth makes an immense difference to Its work.
And when we achieve that harmony, we receive more than we asked for.
For those who feel oppressed by solitude, it’s important to remember that in life’s most significant moments we are always alone.
Take the child emerging from a woman’s womb: it doesn’t matter how many people are present; the final decision to live rests with the child.
Take the artist and his work: in order for his work to be really good, he needs to be still and hear only the language of the angels.
Take all of us, when we find ourselves face-to-face with that Unwanted Visitor, Death: we will all be alone at that most important and most feared moment of our existence.
Just as Love is the divine condition, so solitude is the human condition. And for those who understand the miracle of life, those two states peacefully coexist.
And a boy, who had been chosen as one of those who was to leave, rent his garments and said:
“My city thinks I am not good enough to fight. I am useless.”
And he answered:
Some people say: “No one loves me.” But even in cases of unrequited love there is always the hope that one day it will be requited.
Others write in their diaries: “My genius goes unrecognized, my talent unappreciated, my dreams scorned.” But for them, too, there is the hope that, after many struggles, things will change.
Others spend their days knocking on doors, explaining: “I’m looking for work.” They know that, if they are patient, someone will eventually invite them in.
But there are those who wake each morning with a heavy heart. They are not seekers after love, recognition, or work.
They say to themselves: “I’m useless. I live because I have to survive, but no one, absolutely no one, is interested in what I’m doing.”
Outside, the sun is shining. They are surrounded by their family, and they try to keep up the mask of happiness, because, in the eyes of others, they have everything they ever dreamed of having. But they are convinced that no one there needs them, either because they are too young and their elders appear to have other concerns, or because they are too old and the younger members of the family appear uninterested in what they have to say.
The poet writes a few lines, then throws them away, t
hinking: “Nobody’s going to be interested in that.”
The laborer arrives for work and merely repeats the same tasks he did yesterday. He believes that, if he were ever dismissed, no one would even notice his absence.
The young woman making a dress takes enormous pains over every detail, but, when she wears it to some celebration, she reads the message in other people’s eyes: You’re no prettier or uglier than any of the other girls. Your dress is just one among millions of dresses all over the world, where, at this very moment, similar celebrations are being held—some in great castles, others in small villages where everyone knows everyone and passes comments on what the other girls are wearing. But no one commented on what she was wearing, which went unnoticed. It was neither pretty nor ugly; it was just another dress.
Useless.
Younger people realize that the world is full of huge problems that they dream of solving, but no one is interested in their views. “You don’t know what the world is really like,” they are told. “Listen to your elders and then you’ll have a better idea of what to do.”
Older people have gained experience and maturity, and have learned about life’s difficulties the hard way, but when the moment comes for them to teach these things, no one is interested. “The world has changed,” they are told. “You have to keep up to date and listen to the young.”
That feeling of uselessness is no respecter of age and never asks permission, but instead corrodes people’s souls, repeating over and over: “No one is interested in you; you’re nothing. The world doesn’t need your presence.”
In a desperate attempt to give meaning to life, many turn to religion, because a struggle in the name of a faith is always a justification for some grand action that could transform the world. “We are doing God’s work,” they tell themselves.
And they become devout followers, then evangelists, and finally, fanatics.