by Sonia Solomonson

I’ve spent my lifetime of Thanksgivings in a wide variety of ways: surrounded by a room (or house) full of family, with a smaller set of family members, with dear friends who are like family to me, or with a collection of people who join forces (and food) because they’re not going elsewhere that day. I’ve spent one or two Thanksgivings by myself, and once I helped serve food to people at a shelter.

How will you spend the day? At a family gathering? A gathering of friends? Or might you spend your Thanksgiving alone? Be honest now: Did you recoil at the idea of eating Thanksgiving dinner alone? You’re not the only one who does. Messages and images surround us in our society — and in our churches — that imply that being alone is bad. The idea is that if we’re alone, especially on holidays, we must be unloved or unlovable. But is that really true?

Try going out to a restaurant by yourself. Chances are you’ll be asked, "Just one?" and promptly seated at a tiny table back by the kitchen. I’ve experienced that more than once in the years following my divorce. Early on I didn’t question it. Now I know I can cheerfully request a table by a window or some desirable location — and I know I can have a perfectly enjoyable dinner too. I didn’t arrive at that comfort zone overnight, though.

Alone equals Lonely?
The lesson that aloneness and loneliness aren’t synonymous developed over time for me. My three sons have established their own homes, and I live alone. When I feel lonely, I have choices to make: Shall I call a close friend from my network of friends? Should I see a movie or go for a restorative walk in the forest preserve? Shall I visit my grandchildren? They’re always good for my head — and my heart! Or shall I just feel the loneliness examine it and see what it’s all about? Perhaps there’s something else going on that I need to tend. Maybe I have an issue at work that’s producing anxiety or fear and that brings out my feelings of loneliness and disconnection. Perhaps I have problems in a relationship that need resolution, and that makes me feel disconnected.

Once I determine what’s going on, I have many choices besides self–pity (though sometimes we need a short "pity party"). I don’t have to jump to the conclusion that I need a spouse or a roommate just because I feel lonely from time to time. People with significant and primary relationships feel lonely too. That is the little secret we singles seldom hear. But it’s true. We all feel lonely at times. Our loneliness is telling us something. We can learn to listen to it — and make choices that will lead us to health and happiness.

Those of you who enjoy a healthy marriage or other primary relationship are blessed indeed. Staying engaged with another person through life’s twists and turns and each person’s development journey takes courage. It’s not for the faint of heart. Living alone isn’t for the faint of heart either. It takes courage to explore and reject society’s messages that the unpartnered are somehow "less than."

No matter whether we live alone or share our lives with someone, no matter whether that state is temporary or permanent, the fact remains that we all still need to be intentional about cultivating nurturing relationships. If you are married or in a significant relationship, you still need to have friendships and connection with others. Many studies have shown that people who are happiest and who adjust most quickly to life crises are those who have a broad network of family and friends.

We have options in seeking good relationships: our congregation, neighbors, acquaintances, coworkers, members of organizations to which we belong, and many more. Relationships come in a variety of forms too. In some, we only share activities. In others, we share deeply of who we are. In still others, we share our spiritual journey. And for some, we share only a bloodline. On the other hand, sometimes family members are good friends too.

Freedom to Choose
Choice is the key here, as it is in so much of life. In his book Man’s Search for Meaning, concentration camp survivor Victor Frankl describes the cruel and inhumane treatment he and his fellow prisoners endured at the hands of the Nazis. What Frankl discovered is what we also need to learn: No matter what the circumstances, we have the freedom to choose how we will respond. Frankl saw that some men in the camp shared their bread with another. While some shut down inside, others still appreciated the beauty of a tree that grew outside the window.

Perhaps living alone wasn’t your choice. You still have choices: Will you make it a rich, healthy, and good experience? Or will you remain miserable, blaming someone else (God?) and doing nothing to reach out toward happiness?

Open yourself to God’s extravagant love. Pay attention to the many ways God graces and blesses your days: a child’s smile, the velvet softness of a rose shyly opening up to the light, the cardinal singing as you awaken, or a considerate driver who lets you change lanes during your morning commute. Let yourself focus on God’s love and become a channel for that love to fill you and extend out to everyone in your life.

I’ve begun keeping a daily gratitude journal, where I record things for which I’m grateful. This takes only minutes a day. Always it focuses me on the beauty around me rather than on the problems I might face.

I’m reminded of the story of the wise Cherokee grandfather who tells his grandson, "Grandson, I have a war going on inside me." His grandson is shocked. "Who’s fighting, Grandfather?" The wise old man says that he has a good wolf and a bad wolf fighting inside. The good wolf represents love, kindness, gratitude, compassion, and all the good things we do. The bad wolf represents hatred, violence, greed, jealousy, and the hurtful things we do.

"Which wolf will win, Grandfather?" asks the little boy. "Why, the one I feed, of course," says Grandfather. Which wolf do you feed? Sometimes I have focused so thoroughly on the negatives in my life that I have totally missed the beautiful flowers growing up through that fertilizer. The wise Cherokee grandfather reminds me to feed the good wolf.

Have you had disappointments in life? Of course. Has everything in my life gone just as I had hoped? Of course not. After grieving those sorrows and disappointments, it’s time to move on. People say, "Get over it." That sounds harsh, but it’s true. We need to feel the sadness, grieve for lost hopes and dreams, and then move on to enjoy the life we have rather than the one we may have wanted.

An inside Job
The life we have includes relationships, whether we are married or single. They take time. Like a garden, however, a good relationship will give back far more than you invest. Our lives are enriched by varied connections. Because of them, our hearts will be enlarged and all of life will be happier.

That includes our relationship with God. Spend time with God. Listen. Don’t do all the talking. It includes your relationship with yourself. Once you can live by yourself and be comfortable and happy with yourself, you’re ready to live with someone else. Other people can’t make us happy. Don’t expect that. Happiness is an inside job. It comes from accepting God’s unconditional, extravagant love for us and loving ourselves because of it. That is what opens us up so love can flow out to others. It always comes back to us, heaped up and overflowing.

Let your journey unfold. God will surprise you with blessings you never imagined. Watch for them. They’re probably there now. While you’re at it, fill your vase with flowers, light the candles, break out your best china, and cook up a great meal for a good companion — you.

Sonia Solomonson, managing editor of The Lutheran, enjoys meals alone, with family and friends, or with her three sons and daughters–in–law and eight grandchildren.