Although pharmaceuticals or psychotherapy can treat loneliness as a symptom, it doesn’t treat loneliness as an existential condition.

Let’s be honest, we’ve all romanticize life in a convent at some point in our lives

If performances like The Sound of Music and television shows like The Flying Nun taught us anything, it’s that forbidden love and slapstick humour is a gratifying distraction from the bustle of the 9 to 5, bad dates, and financial struggle.

Unfortunately, though, the vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience have all but spoiled our romantic image of life as a Sister, or a monk for that matter. Sure, love reaches its pinnacle expression in relationship with Jesus Christ, but for all intents and purposes, you’re expected to remain single—no sex, no kids, and presumably no life.

But now that we’re growing older, our priorities are shifting. We’re retired, the kids are gone, and the dating scene exists only as a haunting memory of the past. Many of us are on our own. It’s as though friends or relatives pass away on a daily basis. Not to mention the looming threat of a terminal diagnosis that hangs over our lives like an ominous cloud on a summer day.

After all of this, we’re left feeling dreadfully lonely.

After reflection, maybe life in a convent doesn’t seem so bad. It has a certain paradoxical aura to it. It’s a place where you can find ecstasy in the ordinary, the mystical in the apparent banality of ritual and repetition.

Its inhabitants are also peculiar. While many of us pursued wealth and resources in an effort to find happiness, Sisters pursued a life of renunciation, as symbolized by wearing the black veil. In addition to the pleasures of sex and marriage, they chose to “let go” of material wealth well before the government, retirement living expenses, and self-seeking relatives has the chance to snatch it away.

Admittedly, we may not have the youthful vivacity of a Maria von Trapp in her prime, but there’s certainly many insights that we can glean from the acetic life that may help us manage feelings of loneliness as we age.

Stay active in the community

It goes without saying that it takes a sense of purpose to get out of bed in the morning. Throughout most of our lives, it’s either work or family that instilled in us that sense of purpose. In our post-retirement years, though, we found that our family—our sons, daughters, and grandchildren—may at times be unavailable for us. This leaves us with the burden—or the opportunity—of finding a purposeful way to preoccupy our time.

Sisters have the advantage in this respect. Their purpose of clear: To bring heaven on earth. But what does this mean for Biblically-illiterate folk like many of us?

For Cloistered Nuns, sisters who separate themselves from society and live under the shared roof of a convent, bringing heaven to earth means living in silence, prayer and contemplation. These Nuns serve as a beacon of hope for the rest of the world, an exemplar of a society based on peace, harmony and love. For Apostolic Sisters, sisters who actively partake in society, bringing heaven to earth means ministering to the poor and performing acts of charity.

Whether Cloistered or Apostolic, Sisters are united by a shared moral compass, each having to take vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience. They are also united by a shared vision—peace and solidarity among humankind. This unity of morality and vision instills in them a steadfast sense of belonging. Just consider the words of Sister Julie, the Chief Program Officer of A Nun’s Life Ministry:

“My community of nuns is my family. They’ve got my back — always. And I’m there for them. I’d drop just about anything (short of someone else’s welfare) in a heartbeat for any one of my nuns.”

Sister Julie’s heartbeat is palpable in these words. For her, a community of nuns is analogous to a family. But what’s remarkable is that, unlike family, her community consists of women from completely different walks of life. Together they form a dynamic and conscientious sisterhood that works toward the common good of everyone. It’s as though they have best of both words—a purposeful life work and a reliable network of intimate relationships.

Admittedly, such a lofty vision may not be fully realizable for us. We’re not the ones fortunate enough to have belonged to a loved-centred organization that had centuries to develop its mission, values, and community life.

Nevertheless, this shouldn’t deter us from the main message: Stay active in a community, whether it be a church or volunteer organization, and concern yourself with world events and the common good of society.

Transforming Loneliness into Solitude

Sometimes, however, the community is not enough to cope with the feelings of loneliness as we age. This is because loneliness is more than a lack of social connection or psycho-somatic symptom of depression. Loneliness is a condition rooted in the essence of humanity itself.

In other words, loneliness is existential. It’s an inescapable part of who we are as human beings. We’re a mystery to ourselves and to other people, and this pervasive sense of mystery in many ways prevents us from finding unity with ourselves and with other people. This is why we sometimes feel alone even when we’re surrounded by friends or in bed with our spouse.

Although pharmaceuticals or psychotherapy can treat loneliness as a symptom, it doesn’t treat loneliness as an existential condition. In fact, there isn’t a treatment for existential loneliness at all, as it’s a basic part of being human. Our only hope is for our loneliness to be transformed into something humbler and more profound—solitude.

The difference between loneliness and solitude is not one of circumstance but of moral temperament. While loneliness leads to despair and self-loathing, solitude leads to spiritual transformation and moral vision. Solitude yields insights into the human condition, establishes a connection with transcendence, and propels us to charity, compassion, and love.

The ascetic lifestyle is the fertile ground of spiritual and moral transformation. It’s in the wilderness or the mountains that religious leaders find their calling and undergo transformation—not in the city.

For Sisters, it’s in the life of religious devotion where we can find the spiritual tools, like ritual, prayer, and contemplation, to transform the existential condition of loneliness to the mystical experience of solitude. In the ascetic context, these tools help them establish a relationship with an eternal Being. According to Sister Julie, doing so is “what helps people not suffer loneliness but embrace loneliness as an experience of God.”

Although we may not be ready to undertake our vows and join a convent, there are ways we can develop a spiritual sensitivity and transform our experience of loneliness into solitude. This may include establishing routines that involve reflective activities like journaling and meditation, spending time in nature, or perhaps attending a religious service or ceremony more often.

Conclusion

Given the aging populations of Western society, the words of Mother Teresa ring true now more than ever: “There are many in the world who are dying for a piece of bread but there are many more dying for a little love. The poverty in the West is a different kind of poverty — it is not only a poverty of loneliness but also of spirituality.”

Elderly people like us are the ones most stricken by the kind of poverty that Mother Teresa describes. Traditional family structure and values are swiftly eroding. Looking beyond family to the wider community may offer us alternative opportunities to nurture a sense of purpose and belonging. When community fails to address our deeper existential needs, than cultivating solitude and a strong interior life may serve as a means to nurture spiritual intimacy with ourselves or with a power beyond us.

Do you have any thoughts about how spirituality can help with loneliness as we age? If so, write a reply below–we’d love to hear from you!