There must be millions of songs about loneliness, depression and despair. Just thinking about loneliness brings up a couple of phrases, when you’re feelin’ sad and lonely, da de da de da, I’ll be there I’ll BE there… And then there is that line, my friends don’t get rowdy any more. That’s from country singer Willie Nelson, I think. Yes, All the lonely people, where do they all come from?. The Beatles right? And more importantly, where do they all go too?

I’ve been writing to somebody who is desperately alone, fearing for her long term survival. It’s been a steady downward slope to drugs and alcohol to relieve the wrap-around pain. Social isolation and physical neglect are all part of the on going picture. What is to be done? How can somebody help themselves, let alone their fast dissolving friends and family. What can they do? What can anybody do?

Somebody told me the other day of a psychiatrist who, instead of prescribing drugs to a selected group of patients, sent them off with a task. And it seemed a weird task too, on the face of it.

For two weeks the patients were ask to keep on returning there gaze to roof tops, tops of trees, the horizon, the sky. In fact anywhere that was up, as against down. Obviously we hope they didn’t do this while crossing the road or on a busy pavement, or while driving. The results were impressive, very many of the people looking up, for just two weeks, did not need the professional services of the psychiatrist any more. It is important to note though, that these people were already working with a psychiatrist and certain levels of mental distress do need informed help and guidance.

Moods fluctuate and daily life incidents can bring about an inner world which is dark and devoid of the necessary energy to find a way out. So next time you notice your eyeballs dragging along the ground, raise them up. Works for me.

Here is part of an email I received a few days ago. It’s a window on one womans family life and her efforts to do as she feels right. In this case, doing the right thing by a computer keyboard.

So, on October 21 my son and 25 (28?) of his “closest” friends had a great party. Aside from getting the house in order both before and after, no small task in itself, the biggest issue for me afterwards was that someone had spilt some pop on the computer key board. Although it was really a very small spill it was sufficient to incapacitate the letters j, k, m and n. This made computer emailing virtually impossible. Even searching the internet was difficult as you never could be sure what the computer was going to receive in the way of a typed message.

It was two weeks before I had enough time to clean the keyboard which I did amidst repeated calls to “Throw it out! Get a new one!” The family was suitably impressed when after two hours of careful cleaning I presented a keyboard that they all agreed was just like new. Oh the miracles of old fashioned cleaning – an old art in danger of being lost if my family is any indication.

Alternatively, you can always clean your keyboard in the dishwasher, if you have one! Take care.

Silence. SILENCE! shouts the teacher at the excited throng, Silence I say!…OK, hands on heads…If this chatter doesn’t stop, you’ll all be kept in after school.

That was the dreaded class discipline in my first school. Being quiet was a punishment for talking, laughing, chatting. A punishment for being a full of energy child with not enough to do. Of course we found every opportunity to defy teacher, crawling under the desks after imaginary dropped pencils and the like.

We have an introductory retreat going on this week-end which I’m helping with. We make announcements: Please maintain a contemplative atmosphere? Please keep talking to a minimum? Please maintain silence from now until after morning service? Since strictly enforced silence only leads to furtive chats in corridors and whispering in corners we ask for peoples cooperation and generally that works, but not completely. After all it’s not easy, at first, to be around others and not talk to them, for a whole week-end.

I sat down beside a chap this morning, he appeared a bit stressed. How’s it going? Uwrrr, this not talking is getting to me, can’t handle it. Sitting eating breakfast and not talking, I feel like I am the last person on earth! By the last meal of the day he had turned a major corner on eating in silence. Good for him for persevering*.

Persevere: Quietly and steadily persevering especially in detail or exactness.