Lessons Learned, Reinforced in a Song

Songs can really rewind us.

I was listening to my music collection on random this morning when a song came on that I hadn’t heard in many months, and it took me back to a multi-day event I attended in the past. I had one hand-crafted playlist in particular that I was really into at that time and played on repeat for almost the entire trip — pretty much any time I was alone and awake, I was listening to that playlist.

So, when this song started playing, It took me back to the airports and airplanes, the nerves of that first experience, the comfort of being in the sky after takeoff, the pleasant rumbling of the take offs and landings (which I wrote a bit about before). It took me back to the hotel rooms, where I calmed and reset myself after the adventures of the day, alone, with the playlist and the soft snacks and the warm tea from the room kettle. Where I calmed and reset myself from the combined stress of the social demands, insufficient sleep, and even the… annoyance… of menstruating (unexpectedly early, of course) through the most physically demanding days. I remembered how I made those rooms my own space. I remembered organizing my things in the room and wondering how these rooms — little temporary spaces all my own — could feel so much like home when I’d never been to them before, when they held no conversations, no interactions.

Maybe that was why. Am I most at home when I’m alone? How can I only truly feel at home when I’m alone, in a space of my own, while also craving so much connection? Some people believe that “home” is about people. Well, maybe not people, necessarily… “Where the heart is”, the expression goes. Is my heart alone? Does it want to be?

Not only did it remind me of that playlist, but the particular song that came up was one that can really strike a chord of loneliness for one far from home. What it drove home the hardest was how isolating groups can be for people like me. My travel companions were people I knew just well enough and trusted enough to feel supported by their presence in a way that I was able to handle the difficulties of travel presents to someone like me, but at the same time, they felt so distant. Our associates from cities near ours, who I had met and interacted with multiple times before — we didn’t know each other well but I felt more welcome and more warmth with them than the ones I had known for years, and we haven’t known each other for anywhere near as long. (Sadly, I don’t know when or even if I will get to interact with them again, as our key mutual connections have dissolved, and I really don’t know how much I can manage on my own.)

It reminded me that I was never really a part of that tiny group. I believe I was welcomed by my travel companions as a tool for ambitions. A tool that apparently did very well in some ways, only to be discarded when the desired effect wasn’t reached. A tool that ultimately failed. I don’t regret the trip, however. I went for my own reasons, not others’, and I accomplished my goals. But it did reinforce the pervasive idea that I really don’t belong with most others. I mostly just follow when permitted. I was at a point in whatever my current, long-running personal journey is where I was suddenly finding myself aware of my disconnect even more than ever, and that trip and event only served to reinforce that. This disconnect is still something I am struggling to reconcile.

It reminded me of walking back to those rooms alone down cobblestoned alleys, taking shortcuts at night but somehow feeling safe in that little town (or maybe just not caring), feeling somehow liberated enough to dance a little down those alleys when I was confident no one was watching, finally letting down the mask — alone. Listening to that stupid playlist, still. Sending messages to the few people back home who I think may actually enjoy my company and conversation.

Most of all, it reminded me that no matter how much we may want to connect with some people, it’s always a two-way street, and sometimes no amount of effort, attention, kindness, or reaching out is enough — especially for the socially crippled.

All of this came back today with one song.

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April 17, 2025