And all that for the most foolish reason, which, one would think, was hardly worth mentioning: that is, that man everywhere and at all times, whoever he may be, has preferred to act as he chose and not in the least as his reason and advantage dictated. And one may choose what is contrary to one’s own interests and sometimes one positively ought (that is my idea).”

— Fyodor Dostoevsky, Notes from Underground


100 // Loneliness is Not Personal

Today was a lonely day. You know the kind. Days where you want to talk, to laugh, to be with someone but there is no one around to fill up your time with. Your favorite coworkers are out, your spouse is preoccupied, your family is busy.

The solitude makes the hours drag and as it does the wholly coincidental fact that there is no one available to fill your needs, your void, starts to feel personal. You begin to take it as a sign of being unloved, abandoned, forgotten. You begin to feel hurt.

I got hurt today, but I’m crawling out of it. I know that loneliness is not personal. I know others need solitude and they may need it just when I need them. I know that other people get busy, just as I do when I can’t be available to them. I know that today is just today and not every time.

Sometimes we simply have to occupy ourselves, sooth our own wounds. We have to get comfortable being uncomfortable. We must accept that people cannot bend to our will. It doesn’t mean we are unloved, abandoned, or forgotten. It means we are human and living among humans, never really alone at all.

These entries are inspired by Thord D. Hedengren

053 // Human Lies

It hurts when the people we care about lie to us. Trust is broken and a small part of the world we thought we’d figured out is given over to the unknown and chaotic around us. Things we never thought possible become very real fears, again.

But a lie doesn’t have to be the end of the world. People lie because they are hurting. They lie because they are ashamed. I should know, I used to lie all the time. That’s how I know that people lie when something in their lives or their hearts becomes severely and painfully broken. Sometimes that pain is a bigger issue than the lie itself.

And sometimes, if the lie is not very big and if the truth comes to light from the one who spun the untruth first, if we trust in what we know of their heart we can put our hurt aside to find the path past the unpleasantness through honesty, sympathy, patience, and understanding.

Lying is a human thing, and not necessarily evil. The lies we (all) tell exist on levels and some are less severe, quite understandable, and worthier of forgiveness than others.

These entries are inspired by the journal posts of Thord D. Hedengren


I have never actually lived alone. I went from my mother’s home as a teenager, to living with my cousins, to living with roommates, to living with my now fiance and for almost 17 years since. I’ve never been on my own, but I’ve never felt that I had missed out on anything.

Lately, I have been trying something new. I’ve been trying to be more accepting of myself, my perspective, and my emotions and to allow my feelings to flow more freely and without judgement. Since I’ve started practicing such radical acceptance, I’ve found it harder to balance who I am as a person against who I am as a half of one whole.

Sometimes the hardest (though by far the most rewarding) part of being a human is never truly belonging to yourself alone. I suppose this balancing act is a part of all relationships between any two people and the people they truly are deep down inside. Maybe we are all made up of such halves piled on top of one whole who never really got to be.

These entries are inspired by the journal posts of Thord D. Hedengren