Hi.
I'm really glad you pressed play.
This time of year can make loneliness louder.
Everywhere you look there are pictures of full tables and crowded rooms, and it
can feel like everyone got an invitation except you.
If that's where you are right now, you don't have to pretend otherwise.
Not here.
Or maybe you're not on your own at all.
Maybe the house is full and you still feel far away from everyone in
it.
That's loneliness too, and it's just as real.
Find somewhere comfortable.
Wrap yourself in something warm if you can.
Let your eyes close.
Let's give the feeling a name.
Quietly, to yourself...
this is loneliness.
It's a feeling.
A real one, and a heavy one.
But it's a feeling, and feelings move.
It says nothing about what you're worth, or how things will always be.
Now notice your breath.
It's been with you all day, even when nobody else was.
Breathe in slowly through your nose...
And breathe out...
soft and long.
In again...
letting your chest rise.
And out...
letting your shoulders fall.
One more breath in...
a little slower.
And out...
as if you're setting something heavy down.
Keep breathing like that for a moment.
like In and out, someone sitting quietly beside you.
It doesn't need anything from you.
It's just there.
Here's something that might help a little.
Right now, tonight,
a lot of other people are feeling exactly this.
Someone in an apartment across town, eating dinner in front of the TV.
Someone on a night shift, far from home.
Someone at a busy party, who still feels alone in the middle of it.
You can't see them.
But they're out there, under the same dark sky.
Some of them might be listening to this right now, same as you.
If you like, send them a small bit of warmth.
Just a thought.
I hope tonight is kind to you.
And let it come back to you, too.
Because you're one of them, and someone out there is thinking the same thing
about you.
If your mind drifts off, or old memories come up, that's okay.
Let them.
Then come back to your breath,
whenever you notice.
Now let's see if you can be a bit of warm company for yourself.
Place a hand on your chest, or on your cheek, wherever feels comforting.
Feel the warmth of your own hand.
The holidays can make one empty chair feel huge.
That's allowed to hurt.
Talk to yourself the way you would to a friend who was sad tonight.
Gently, and without trying to fix anything.
You might say something like...
I'm here with you.
It makes sense that this feels hard.
I'm not going anywhere.
You still matter, even on the quiet nights.
Stay here for a while, with your hand where it is.
You don't need to feel better yet.
You're just keeping yourself company, and that's plenty for now.
Before we finish, think of one small way you could reach out.
Not today if it's too much.
Just when you're ready.
Maybe a two-line message to an old friend.
Or a helpline, if things feel very heavy.
Tiny counts.
Loneliness has a way of telling you nobody wants to hear from you.
It's usually wrong about that.
You don't have to do it now.
Just let the idea sit somewhere you can find it later.
Now gently move your fingers.
Take a slow breath in...
And out.
When you're ready, open your eyes.
You were good company tonight.
I mean that.