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Rumi Explains the secret of Mental Health

Feeling Alone? It’s a Sign of Something Deeper

Understanding Loneliness: Why We Feel Alone Despite Being Surrounded by Others

Introduction: The Loneliness Paradox

Do you ever wonder why so many of us feel lonely, even when we’re surrounded by friends, family, and relatives? It’s a question that cuts to the heart of the human experience. You might have a bustling social life, countless followers on Instagram, or a packed family gathering, yet still feel an ache of isolation. What’s the reason behind this persistent loneliness? To explore this, we’ll turn to the wisdom of the 13th-century Persian poet Rumi, as reflected in a recent YouTube video by Arasp Kazemian (Araspus). Rumi’s insights, paired with modern reflections, reveal that loneliness isn’t just about physical solitude—it’s a deeper yearning for a lost connection to our source.


Rumi’s Reed Flute: A Metaphor for Separation

The Cry of the Reed

Rumi begins his masterpiece, the Masnavi, with the image of a reed flute (ney) lamenting its separation from the reedbed. He writes:

“Everyone who is left far from his source wishes back the time when he was united with it.”

Imagine a reed growing harmoniously among others in a riverbed—a place of unity and belonging. Then, it’s cut, hollowed out, and turned into a musical instrument. Now, it cries through its haunting melody. Rumi sees this as a symbol of the human soul: once part of a greater whole, now separated and longing to return. Araspus explains, “They cut the reed and moved it to another place, and now it is a musical instrument crying.” This separation is the root of our loneliness—a disconnection from our original source.

What Is the Source?

For Rumi, the “source” is where we were once united—perhaps with the divine, with eternity, or with a state of pure existence before individuality set in. In the reedbed, all reeds were one, interconnected. Once severed, the reed (and by extension, us) becomes an individual entity, aware of its isolation. This isn’t just poetic imagery; it’s a profound statement about why we feel lonely. No matter how many people surround us, there’s a part of us that remembers—and misses—that unity.


Why We Feel Lonely Today

The Illusion of Social Connection

In our hyper-connected world, loneliness seems like it should be obsolete. Social networks like Instagram, Facebook, Twitter, TikTok, and YouTube keep us linked 24/7. Yet, as Araspus notes, “You’re still alone.” Virtual interactions often lack depth—they’re fleeting exchanges that don’t touch the soul. He goes further: “Virtual society is much worse than the real society.” Even in real life, surrounded by friends and colleagues, the feeling persists. Why? Because, as Araspus says, “When you are making decisions, you are alone; when you are thinking, you’re alone.”

This solitude in thought is universal. It doesn’t matter if you’re an introvert who cherishes quiet or an extrovert who thrives in crowds—loneliness strikes everyone. Social bonds can’t fully bridge the gap because no one else can live inside your mind.

The Alone Mind

Philosopher René Descartes famously said, “I think, therefore I am,” tying our identity to thought. Araspus challenges this, arguing, “Existence is more important. You first have to be in existence, and then you can think.” Regardless, the point stands: thinking is a solitary act. Your thoughts, your decisions, your inner world—these are yours alone. No one can fully understand what’s in your head, no matter how close they are. Araspus illustrates this with a question: “Can you guess what I’m thinking about right now? It is impossible.”

Self-Interest and Surface Connections

Another layer emerges: the people around us often prioritize their own interests. Araspus gives an example: “Imagine you’re a very beautiful lady, and somebody says, ‘I love you.’ What if I were an ugly person—would that person fall in love with me again? Maybe not.” Or, if you’re wealthy, people might flock to you for profit, not genuine connection. These relationships rarely penetrate the surface—they don’t reach the soul. This mismatch between external company and internal isolation deepens our loneliness.


The Soul’s Eternal Nature

Body vs. Soul

Rumi believed humans are dual beings: body and soul. Araspus echoes this: “Our body goes under the soil and decomposes, but our mind, our thinking, is something eternal.” The body is temporary, tied to this world, but the soul belongs to eternity. Loneliness, then, is the soul’s ache for its true home—a place beyond the physical. We feel alone because we’re not fully of this world; part of us yearns for something greater.

The Metaphysics of Thought

Where do our thoughts come from? Araspus suggests, “The source of thinking and what you have in your mind is something eternal.” He likens the brain to a computer’s CPU—a tool that processes thoughts but doesn’t create them. “There is something above the brain that orders it,” he says. This “something” is the soul or mind, a metaphysical entity not bound by physical laws. Unlike the body, it doesn’t decay; it persists, carrying our essence into eternity. Our loneliness reflects this disconnect between our eternal soul and our temporary existence.


Why Intellect Deepens Loneliness

The Burden of Understanding

Araspus observes, “The more intellectual you are, the more loneliness you have inside your heart.” Why? Because deeper understanding sets you apart. Most people, he notes, “are taking their own interests into consideration,” not seeking the profound connections an intellectual craves. If you ponder life’s big questions—existence, eternity, morality—you might feel unseen, and misunderstood. This isn’t a flaw; it’s a byproduct of peering beyond the surface.


Embracing Loneliness: A Path Forward

Accepting the Inevitable

So, what do we do with loneliness? Araspus offers a simple yet radical answer: “Nothing—just embrace it.” This isn’t about giving up; it’s about recognizing loneliness as a natural state that can elevate us. Rumi’s reed doesn’t stop crying, but its song becomes beautiful, and meaningful. By accepting our solitude, we open the door to “higher levels of humanity.”

Connecting to Eternity Through Morality

How do we ease the ache? Araspus suggests, “Connect yourself to eternity” through morality and ethics. “When you help other people, you’re improving your mental health,” he says. Acts of kindness—helping charities, and supporting others without expecting return—align us with something timeless. In a world torn by conflicts (like those in Israel, Gaza, Ukraine, and Syria, as Araspus mentions), being a good person becomes a quiet rebellion against despair. It’s a way to touch eternity while still here.


Conclusion: Loneliness as a Call to the Soul

Loneliness isn’t a problem to fix—it’s a signal. Rumi’s reed flute teaches us that we feel alone because we’ve been separated from our source, an eternal unity we can’t fully reclaim in this life. Social networks, friends, and family can’t fill that void because it’s deeper than human connection—it’s a longing for the infinite. Yet, by embracing our solitude and living morally, we can bridge the gap. As Araspus puts it, “Try to be a good person.” In that effort, we find not just relief but purpose.

Next time you feel lonely, listen to that inner cry. It’s not a curse—it’s your soul whispering of eternity.

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