Loneliness is Killing Us
Some thoughts about St Isaiah the Solitary and Infantile Developmental
22. Be attentive to yourself, so that nothing destructive can separate you from the love of God. Guard your heart, and do not grow listless and say: 'How shall I guard it, since I am a sinner?' For when a man abandons his sins and returns to God, his repentance regenerates him and renews him entirely.
St. Isaiah the Solitary, "On Guarding the Intellect: Twenty-Seven Texts," in The Philokalia: The Complete Text (Vol. 1), p. 23.
Like the infant whose material needs are met but whose emotional and social needs are neglected, we are failing to thrive personally and corporately. Loneliness is killing us. This is as true for the Christian as it is for everyone else. To see why this is so, let's look together at the anthropological implications of the text above by St. Isaiah.
Unlike other mammals, human beings only gradually develop fine motor skills. For those (like me) who take a psychoanalytical approach to human growth and development, the infant begins in a state in which there is no differentiation, no separation, between self and others or self and the material world. In other words, as the infant moves, so moves the world. In effect, the infant's gross motor skills embrace the whole world.
Over time though the infant learns to distinguish between self and others and self and the material world. The loss of this original oceanic view of the self, though developmentally necessary, is the genesis of infantile anxiety and conflict. No longer is the world merely an extension of the self and so subject to the infant's every whim.
Or maybe, more accurately, with this loss the infant is liberated from the narcissistic fantasy that sees the world of persons, events, and things as having no external or objective existence. The loss of infantile communion is the precondition of our discovering our social, and ultimately eucharistic, nature.
And yet things aren't wholly bleak.
Without this crisis of anxiety and conflict, the infant won't mature. The rupture of the oceanic sense of self and concomitant infantile communion paves the way for our discovering our being is a being-in-communion.
At the same time, though it is a blessing in the long run, in the short run this is painful. Not unreasonably we can characterize the infant's loss as a moment of existential dread. As we see throughout the life cycle and in the various stages of our life in Christ, the flowering of the mature personality requires that infantile narcissism fade away to make room for a more realistic view of the self and the self's relationship with the world of persons, events, and things.
Make no mistake; ordinary, everyday, non-psychopathological narcissism, is antithetical to the development of a healthy, mature personality with all this makes possible. At the same time, and again like existential wounds suffered in later life, the emotional and social discomfort of that accompanies the development of fine motor skills, never truly leaves us.
Yes, as we mature, as our view of ourselves and the world of persons, events, and things broadens and deepens, this founding trauma diminishes in affective intensity. But it is also true that our ability to manipulate the world of things in fact rather than in fantasy, like our ability to give and receive love, comes at the cost of a lifelong wound.
Here the words of St Isaiah the Solitary reveal an unexpected depth of significance.
Be attentive to yourself, so that nothing destructive can separate you from the love of God.
When we attend to ourselves. we realize that our entrance into the human world as an adult comes at the cost of the loss of the communion we experienced as infants. Moreover, although this founding event of communion is fanciful, its loss is still real and still painful.
That communion and narcissism are twinned for the infant, raises an anthropological problem. How am I to examine myself when the dividing line between communion and narcissism isn't necessarily any clearer for me than they are for the infant? Here the formality of the ascetical life comes into play.
Over the long haul, the life of prayer, fasting, almsgiving, and manual labor can--and often do--disrupt my tendency to conflate communion with narcissistic striving. Sometimes my selfishness is readily apparent to me--"I don't want to pray this morning"; "I'm hungry so I won't fast today"; "I'd give him money but he'll probably use it to buy booze"; "I can’t be bothered to cook, the kids can have cereal for dinner."
At other times though the difference is less clear, more ambiguous. This is why I must be "attentive." I must always guard my heart against the temptation to "listlessness," of developmental or spiritual stagnation. Even the loss of a fantasy or immature form of communion has the potential to cripple us emotionally, socially, and even spiritually. Indeed, it is all the more devastating because it is a thing of my creation and so perfectly fitted to both my self-perceived strengths and weaknesses.
As I attend to myself, as I begin to notice the smaller and larger way I give into "listlessness," I realize that in this process I need not only self-discipline and self-knowledge but a companion. No matter how sincere, my personal repentance is not enough. Grace needs both my free ascent and someone to befriend me in my struggle to be regenerated and renewed entirely. Like my existence, my salvation is a both a divine and human gift.
Once again, if we return to our beginning in infancy, the need for another is there to be seen. Without prejudice to either the grace of being called "from non-existence into being" (Liturgy of St John Chrysostom) or the infant's actions, there is still an absolute need for a caregiver. No child grows aided only by grace and personal freedom; to thrive the child needs both mother and father.
Just as fine motor skills emerge from the loss of infantile, oceanic communion, the role of the spiritual father or mother is rooted in the child's need for parental love and companionship. Attending to myself, I realize that my regeneration and renewal by grace embraces both my freedom and your friendship.
Here we see the great challenge of our day.
We have in ways great and small, lost the virtue of friendship. In its place, we have embraced politics. And we have become distrusting not simply of experts and our leaders but of each other. There is nothing more antithetical to the virtue of friendship than the myriad loyalty tests that have come to characterize our public--and increasingly, private--discourse.
And so we come to see that, like the infant whose material needs are met but whose emotional and social needs are neglected, we are failing to thrive personally and corporately. Loneliness is killing us. This is as true for the Christian as it is for everyone else.
Fr. Bless,
Oh my! How timely and pertinent!
Personal story that I think fits your reflection (somewhat):
My adult daughter, along with my now seven month old grandson, moved back in with me and my wife five weeks ago. I have become his primary care-giver after my daughter. (And, yes, I love the little chunker like a son!)
The strain that has come with giving him care while working full time, sharing automobiles, increased expenses, increased pace of living, a little less sleep, etc. has served to reveal that infantilism and narcissism in me. The irritability, impatience, complaining, etc. in me has all come to the surface. (Yes, my list was much lengthier this last time at confession - LOL!)
As my grandson goes through his stress of developmental change, his 49 -year old grandfather is too.
If we, as St. Isaiah teaches, are attentive ( or try to be) I think we begin to get what I call a “helicopter” view of the changes ( in circumstances) in our lives. Further, we realize these changes are used -and tailored- by God to bring about an increased endurance, vigilance, ability & willingness to learn, and yes, gratitude.
We develop in our spiritual fine motor skills.
May we be vigilant against that infantilism and narcissism that hinders genuine communion. St. Isaiah, pray for us!