JEREMY CORBETT
JEREMY’S DAUGHTERS PROVE YOU DON’T GET WHAT YOU DON’T ASK FOR
Ihaven’t met many fans of loneliness. I would suggest people who claim to embrace loneliness are actually enjoying its Zen cousin, solitude.
Loneliness is a horrible feeling. It’s one we’ve all experienced and, sadly, it seems modern life is making it rather prevalent. It’s a growing concern, especially as we age, and one we’re ashamed to talk about or admit to.
Good news! My daughters may have a solution!
Not just my daughters, pretty much any kid under the age of crippling self-consciousness. They don’t suffer from loneliness because when they feel the need for social interaction they just go and ask for it.
And the kids they approach are similarly unencumbered with mental restraints and have no issue with letting them join in.
Recently I was in a playground with my daughters, aged five and eight. They weren’t keen to go but I insisted, since I wanted to nail the rope and tyre course. As we played I noticed a girl, also about eight years old, watching the fun we were having.
I thought, “Poor solo kid, no-one to play with, eyeing my two girls who are happily charging about, proud of their dad who hasn’t yet touched the floor, which is lava.”
But before I’d completed my idiotic stream of consciousness, the young girl had sidled up to my eldest and quietly asked, “Can I play with you?”
My daughter went slightly red in the cheeks and immediately offered a firm, “Yes.”
Then nothing changed. They continued to do what they’d been doing, but did it together. I caught snippets of conversation after, mostly about how to tackle certain obstacles. Simple.
Over summer we were staying at a beach house and a family turned up next door.
They had two daughters, slightly older. That did not deter my five-year-old who calmly walked over, her older sister lagging shyly behind her, approached the
10-year-old and asked, “Can we play with you?”
There wasn’t even a need to confirm, the delightful youngster cut straight to brass tacks: “Do you want to play cards?” An hour later, my girls returned home with stories of chips and Uno.
These examples clearly show me how I should act next time the L word strikes me: Just ask.
I’ve been questioning why we lose that ability as we get older. Is it our self-consciousness? Not wanting to seem foolish? Fearing rejection? All are weak excuses to avoid curing something as debilitating as loneliness.
And to be fair, if a lonely adult one day strolled up to me and asked to play, I’m not sure I’d react as positively as these kids.
Why not? I suspect because
I’d mentally extrapolate the consequences that come with agreeing to be someone’s mate.
Unless they approach me while I’m climbing the rope pyramid. Then of course they can join in! If they can keep up. I’m pretty hot on that thing.