The Loneliness of Stuff

Do you ever feel lonely?

When you feel lonely, are you isolated, around a thin stream of strangers, or immersed deeply in a group of loved ones?

Perhaps you designed your home and lifestyle to reduce such loneliness; to ensure that every moment you spend is weaved tight enough to create a colorful safety net. Maybe you want (need) time to yourself but then resist: what if you feel lonely? The calibration between alone and lonely is complicated.

Often, loneliness isn’t thought about and then it hits you, unexpectedly, powerfully. This can happen when we are with others, but it doesn’t just happen in relation to people. It occurs with our stuff.

Our homes can perpetrate loneliness. Whether from hundreds or thousands of extra square feet that create palpable emptiness or when stuffed with reminders of people who are no longer here. We might miss people in our life and use stuff as a placeholder for them. Connecting with people who’ve past or who are far away, via an object, can actually be a meaningful moment that reduces loneliness and enriches your life. But if taken too far, this can distract from living in the present moment and forging human connection regularly in our lives. Objects aren’t people replacers.

The sheer number of objects can both be the cause of, and sidetrack from, loneliness. When focusing our attention on stuff, we distract ourselves from the loneliness we may not have recognized yet. If we’re not deeply connected within ourselves, it’s more difficult to deeply connect with others. 

We know that stuff can take us away from what is, or can be, purposeful. It fills space. Space can remind us of emptiness, spinning us into loneliness. Space can emphasize what’s not there. That’s why you may try to escape the potential of loneliness by filling your space with stuff. From the minimalist lifestyle vantage point, you may also fill your life with people who only serve the purpose of being “numbers” in your life, to check a box, or fill your calendar. While possibly an effort not to feel lonely, this can make you feel even lonelier when true human connection (or even real fun) is absent. 

If silence is unsettling, this may be an indicator of a problem too. In Creating Space with Silence, I consider the often over looked benefits of silence. It’s so important in our lives but often avoided. Even if we seek it, we may not make room for it. Silence can draw out feelings of loneliness; it can be a spotlight. Mindfulness and meditation are techniques that not only help us sit in silence but they help us learn whether we are running away from loneliness or running away from ourselves. 

A minimalist lifestyle offers us a multi-pronged approach to address loneliness. It alerts us to the pinch we may feel when letting go of stuff by highlighting that our fear of loneliness is unfounded when these excesses are removed. It makes clear if we’ve used stuff as a placeholder for people. The mindfulness aspect of minimalism provides a daily strategy to invite more space and silence into our lives. Here we can reflect and become closer to ourselves, and make room to spend quality time with people.

Confront loneliness, and find meaningful ways to lessen it, instead of trying to drown it out.