Vayishlach: The Two Types of Loneliness: From Isolation to Divine Purpose
Liluei Nishmas Ita bas Chanoch Aharon Bistritzky
The Parsha begins with the final showdown: Yaakov is about to meet his brother Esav, who had been planning to kill him. As Yaakov prepares for this encounter, he crosses a river with his family. The Torah then tells us that "Yaakov remained alone" on the other side of the river, and it was there that he wrestled with Esav's angel throughout the night.
Why was Yaakov remaining alone? We find two possible explanations. The first comes from the Gemara, which explains that Yaakov had remained behind for some small jugs and belongings he needed to carry across. The Midrash offers a deeper interpretation, connecting Yaakov's solitude to Hashem's: just as it is said that Hashem is alone and will be alone on that day, so too did Yaakov remain alone by the river.
This brings us to the profound topic of loneliness, particularly relevant in our times when people increasingly feel alone and isolated. The truth is loneliness is a fact of life, especially for those who are spiritually sensitive and look at life more deeply. Such a person might walk into a crowd - perhaps at a wedding or Bar Mitzvah - and, despite the casual chatter around them, feel profoundly alone. They experience a sense that no one truly understands them, or they find themselves wondering about deeper matters while others seem content with surface-level interactions. As Rabbi Soloveitchik beautifully explored in his famous essay "The Lonely Man of Faith," the spiritual person often experiences a unique form of loneliness.
However, there are two distinctly different types of loneliness. The first is what we might call "cold loneliness" - feeling that no one cares, feeling small, insignificant, and disregarded. But then there is spiritual loneliness, which is fundamentally different. This second type isn't cold at all - it's warm and very much alive. Perhaps we shouldn't even call it loneliness but rather "onliness."
This "onliness" is about recognizing what makes us unique, journeying towards finding our spirit, our unique piece of God that no one else possesses. It's about discovering God's specific calling for us - why did Hashem create me when there are so many other people? There must be something unique that I have to contribute, something that only I can do. In that space, no one else can exist or truly understand the uniqueness of my role. Embracing this uniqueness might feel lonely, but it's a powerful and alive kind of lonely, not dead and heavy.
The difference between these two types of loneliness often manifests in how people try to belong. Many avoid the journey of finding their inner "onliness" because it's mysterious and demanding. Instead, they take the easier route of conforming to the crowd, following trends, and doing what everyone else does. This usually leads to what we call a midlife crisis - a profound loneliness that comes from being isolated from our true selves. By trying to be a chameleon and match everyone else's colors, we lose touch with our own unique color.
Counterintuitively, the only way to truly belong with others is to first embrace our inner loneliness, our godliness. Just as God is lonely, we, too, must find that lonely space within ourselves that makes us different from everyone else. Once we embrace this difference and our unique mission without embarrassment, we can genuinely show up and meet people with our unique contribution.
There's a beautiful story about the Rebbe that illustrates this. Someone once asked him why people were so drawn to him, and he replied that he tried to be a good friend to people. When the person dismissed this as unremarkable, the Rebbe explained that a true friend is someone with no walls or judgments, someone with whom you can share your heart's full truth, knowing they have your back and will listen without judgment. The man responded that he wished he had such a friend, to which the Rebbe replied that this was the type of friend he strived to be - someone who could show up with his truest, most lonely, Godly self.
Coming full circle to Yaakov's solitude, we can now understand the two explanations differently. The first explanation - that Yaakov remained for small jugs - might represent that first type of loneliness, feeling small and insignificant. But often, this first type of loneliness can be the key to discovering the second type. When we feel that no one cares about us, when "father and mother forsake me," that's often the best time to look inward and find that piece of God within us. Our loneliness can lead us to our "onliness," allowing us to show up authentically and find where we truly belong in the world and with those around us.
Adapted from Life Talks on the Parsha