Are we all ultimately alone in our struggles?
Is that not the question of whether we are ultimately alone in our struggles, which forms the deep echo of the human condition? Because it is the impression-the troubles come, and we appear to be solitary people with weights in our pockets that nobody understood, let alone shared. Still, though it may often seem that we actually do walk through our struggles in singularity, the real truth is not quite so straightforward.
Of course, we are alone in one respect: nobody actually can penetrate our minds, uniquely hosting our thoughts, emotions, and fears, nor take upon themselves the precise weight of individual burden. Each stands to face his own choices, to bear his own responsibilities, to face pain when life brings that along. It is from this loneliness, if from anywhere at all, that the human experience extends a reminder, be it of personal freedom or gravity.
Yet, in the pronouncing of our solitude, it is as if we had forgotten something therein: the breadth of ties that lash us to others. We are not to lead other people's lives, but neither are we ever to be wholly alone; we are all implicated in a shared human undertaking, even as the battle assumes a unique formation and vocabulary in our lives. Our pain-so intimate-is universal: loss, fear, doubt, longing. It is within this common experience that community, understanding, and empathy arise.
It is often in connection with others that one finds out one's struggles are not singular. Of course, this is the very conversation, the soothing word, or at least the presence of the listener that reminds us, indeed others too, have walked paths of pain-not necessarily with the same pain as ours but can certainly share in the suffering coming from being human. This is in relation, not so we may rid our struggles, but lighten the load by reminding us that just as we walk alone carrying our burdens, he or she does with his or her load.
The spiritual perspective entailed next would involve understanding that, for any faith seeking consolation, it was comforting to know that, in so far as we live, we are never alone, even in the darkest hour. That can again be conceptualized as God, the divine, or a higher power-this sense that what hurts us is known and held in some larger frame than any usually visible to ourselves. So, our loneliness is met with the presence of the divine, offering hope and strength beyond what we can see at that moment.
But in the last resort, we must wage our solitary combat. Not by ourselves. The indomitable spirit, not unyielding on its own, finds its connecting ability within the lifelong shared journey whereby:. We are formed, then, by our isolation and by our connection in relationships, and in the knowledge that though we must walk our path, we do not walk it without others by our side nor without the grace which sustains us when we feel most alone.
Does each then fight for himself or herself? Sort of-but not quite. For again, it is not the struggles that have the last say but the relationships, the understanding between one person and another, and the presence that gives meaning to the struggles, and in those bonds, we find the will to go on.