Alone, But Never Lonely: The Freedom of Not BelongingInspired by Krishnamurti
There’s a kind of aloneness that the world doesn’t quite understand. Not the kind that stirs pity or prompts suggestions for company—but the kind that feels like clarity. Like freedom.
Krishnamurti once said, “You are never alone because you are full of all the memories, all the conditioning, all the mutterings of yesterday…” And how true that rings. Most people walk through life carrying yesterday like a suitcase—stuffed with identities, expectations, roles they didn’t even choose. Family, culture, nationality, religion. Belonging becomes a box—nicely labeled, but limiting all the same.
I know this because I’ve stepped outside the box. Many times.
To live abroad, to sell a home, to leave a marriage, to let go of the version of yourself that once fit in perfectly... these things are not losses. They are quiet revolutions. Each time, I felt a piece of the “rubbish” Krishnamurti speaks of fall away. Each time, I came closer to that place he describes—not belonging to any family, any nation, any culture, any continent.
Just being.Just me.
There’s an innocence in that kind of solitude. A soft strength. When you no longer filter your thoughts to match a tribe, when you don’t need approval to breathe deeply—you are free. The mind is no longer gripped by sorrow because it’s not clinging to what was or what should be.
People sometimes ask if I’m lonely, living where I do, traveling as I do, even dining alone. The truth is—I’ve never felt more whole. Not because I’ve found a new group to belong to, but because I’ve stopped needing one.
There’s immense power in not belonging—because from that space, you can finally belong to yourself.
And that, I believe, is where peace begins.Rooted in Gratitude
There was a time when I believed peace was something I had to chase—through countries, through people, through plans. I’ve journeyed far, seen wonders that brought tears to my eyes, and sat in sacred places that made my heart swell. But even with all that beauty, I didn’t always feel settled.
And yet… here I am.
In a quiet village in Croatia, in a home built by my father, expanded by me, and cradled by memories of generations—peace didn’t wait for me to find it. Peace found me.
It didn’t come with a grand revelation or a perfect moment. It arrived gently, like the light over the fields in the early morning, like the stillness after rain. I look around and feel the layers of my life—what I’ve learned, what I’ve let go of, and what I’ve come home to.
Rooted in gratitude, I no longer feel the urge to prove anything, to explain myself, or to keep moving just because I always have. I still love the world—I’ll always love the world. But I love being still in it, too.
I’ve seen so much of the world…But peace found me here.