Halfway into my first quarter at Stanford, I finally called my mother. Hearing my mother’s voice on the phone, I recalled a memory of home and fractured something within myself. Time, I’ve learned, seems to work differently here, where daily life takes on a dizzying pace. At Stanford, it’s so easy to forget the world…
Noah Louis-Ferdinand writes about the framing of the problem of loneliness in our society, and how treating it as a public health problem can be counter-productive.
This space of independence, while definitely liberating and intellectually stimulating, has also given rise to moments of extreme loneliness.
In a well-known essay titled “The Opposite of Loneliness,” published in the Yale Daily News in May 2012, graduating senior Marina Keegan wrote eloquently and powerfully about an unnamable feeling of togetherness that’s “not quite love and… not quite community; it’s just this feeling that there are people, an abundance of people, who are in this…
The first few weeks starting at Stanford are lonely ones, though we don’t tend to admit it. Instead, the loneliness shows in smaller ways – long walks to downtown Palo Alto for boba with headphones on, a Marguerite ride where we lose count of the stops, Friday nights when it’s difficult to sleep with the music from the latest frat party booming through the windows. It’s got me wondering why, on a campus we half-jokingly refer to as paradise, the feeling of loneliness sinks in so deep in so many days.
Neil Chaudhary addresses the issue of loneliness on campus, and its roots in technology and overscheduling.
For some of us, this tugging need to be somewhere doing something has made us incapable of solitude.
Where and how does one find their anchor? When you veer from the handed-down K through college path, either by graduating or falling into an existential crisis like me, how do you go about getting back your sense of direction?