Strikingly alone

The feeling of loneliness is probably the feeling that I have felt most in my life, it is deeply ingrained into me. I feel that it was given to me as a child, like a blanket, placed on top of me, where it seeped into my pores and down, settling in my bones and joints where sometimes, when the weather is cold or the sky is cloudy, it causes them to ache before the rain. It's a striking feeling.

It does flair up, every so often, and I'm suddenly filled with this strange desire to be enveloped in a constant hug. I just want to go up to anyone, anytime, and just hug them, for a long time. Hugs are lovely, aren't they? It's been a little difficult for me lately, I have a whisper in my heart for love, and no one to hug. I know that I am in this time for a season of the soul. Drifting away from God has been slow, but I've noticed it, almost as if I've been watching from the outside, or above, or in a dim movie theatre with old chairs. I think of this verse (though I can't remember the location of it), "Today, when you hear his voice, do not harden your hearts." It makes me feel silly, to harden my heart, then, knowing that it is a willful choice and not the uncontrollable, ignorant process I'd like to think.

I've been asking myself lately, several times a day if I'm going to willingly continue the process, or if I will actually turn right around and find the love to fill my lonely heart. It seems odd to have to decide, like I should just choose the right answer immediately and not look back. It never happens that way, though.

Anyway, last night, I prayed, and I made dinner, and I thought. I had the house to myself, which is all the better for thinking in times of spiritual turmoil, besides. I like  to cook only for myself, because then I can be really daring, since only I have to eat the result, and I'm not very picky. And it's good to be daring if you're lonely, it counteracts it a little. But the dinner I cooked last night, I would serve to friends. Maybe I would actually have more friends if I cooked for people and made dishes like this more often.

Here's the recipe, if you want it. Cook it when you feel alone, or when you're happy, or when you're with friends. If you have a heartbeat and are feeling any type of emotion whatsoever, eat this.

Shrimp with Brussels Sprouts
To serve one


8 large shrimp
1/4 of a large white onion
2 cloves garlic
1 tablespoon butter
1 teaspoon Cajun seasoning
1/2 teaspoon  sea salt


9 brussels sprouts
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 teaspoon Sriracha
1/2 teaspoon balsamic vinegar


1 hard boiled egg
A few Feta cheese crumbles


Peel the shrimp and set them aside. Slice the onion very thinly while the butter melts and heats in a skillet over medium heat.  When the onions are translucent, add the garlic. Cook for a minute or so, until the garlic is good and fragrant. Add the shrimp and toss them around a little. Add the cajun seasoning and salt and stir occasionally, cooking for about 4 minutes or until the shrimp are pink and a little curled up.


While the shrimp are cooking, cut the brussels sprouts in half and slice the halves very thinly. Remove the shrimp from the pan and set them aside. Cook the brussels sprouts in the oil, balsamic, and  sriracha, for about 2 minutes, only until they are bright green and starting to smell a little sweet. Serve the shrimp on top of the brussels sprouts. Top with the boiled egg, very thinly sliced, and the feta cheese crumbles. If you want to, a drizzle of honey over the top would be a nice touch.