Glenn Beck (31:53)
Podcasts where every you get podcasts. I want to talk to you about loneliness, but first I just want to say I don't know your name. I don't know where you're sitting right now, what's in your hands, even if you've spoken to another person today. But I do know you're there. I can feel it somehow or another. I don't know how. Maybe just the same way you know that I'm speaking directly to you, even though this is mass broadcast. But I want to thank you for meeting me here again today and remind you that you're here for a reason. We all are. We're here for a reason. And something. Something wild and miraculous is happening in our country right now. I just want you to recognize first, you didn't have to be here. You could have not turned on the radio. You could have listened to another podcast, but you didn't. For some reason, you're listening to this one. And you and I are both trying to just make sense of a world that just doesn't seem to make much sense. And sometimes it can make you feel incredibly lonely. More and more Americans right now are spending more and more time alone. We have a loneliness epidemic going on. And it's weird because we live at a time where communications have never been easier. You can talk to people all around the world, and yet we're alone. I'm experiencing this in my own life in a weird way. My kids have moved out. My older kids moved from next door. They left for the snowy tundra of the north. And my younger kids are now on their own, and we're selling our house. And we've had time to walk around that big empty house filled with memories. And it's really lonely when everybody is gone. It's really lonely. You know, people always say, nobody on their deathbed ever said, I wish I would have spent more time at work. I'm going through that right now. I'm living a future that it might be, you know, perhaps, like you, a life well spent, but everybody's spread all over the country, and you have a ton of time on your hands alone. And that plays games with your head, doesn't it? Loneliness is A strange thing, because it's not just the absence of people. You can be surrounded by people packed shoulder to shoulder on a subway, hearing their laughter through the apartment walls, feeling the vibration of life all around you. And yet it's like you're sealed inside of a glass room that nobody else can see into. They don't look at you. They don't hear you. And maybe after a while, in dark moments, you start to wonder, am I even really here at all? I can only relate to this in the way I have seen. I lived in New York City, and that is a lonely place to be. You're surrounded by people. I saw this play out in front of me when I was in New York City. I was waiting for my daughter at lunch, and she was running late. And there was this restaurant that we would eat at, and it was down under, you know, Rockefeller Center. It was right at the ice rink at Rockefeller Center. And I was sitting on a table for two by a window that looked right out on the ice. And I saw this woman. She looked much older than she was, I'm sure, kind of like Adrian from Rocky. Do you remember in that first movie? That's how I think of her now, is Adrian from Rocky. She was pretty, but she didn't see it. And maybe it was because nobody in her life saw her that way. I'm not really sure. But she came out and she sat down on this bench and she pulled out of this tattered bag her own ice skates. And they were really nice ice skates. Didn't match what she was wearing or her bag. And they were not new. They were just really well cared for. And I watched her take off her shoes and put each one on and lace them up tightly. And then she stood up and she stood on the ice. And this frumpy woman that honestly, if she hadn't have sat right in front of my window, and maybe because I didn't have a phone to scan, I may not have ever seen her. And she stands up and she gets onto the ice. And she is so graceful. She is floating. Like she became like a natural element, one with the ice. It was amazing. Every move was angelic or like a ballerina. And my daughter came to the table. I said, look at this woman. Look. Watch her. And we watched her for 30 minutes or so. And she was so graceful. She would gracefully just. I mean, it looked like art. She would skate around the clods like me, that were about to crash into her. And she was in her own world. I sat there and my daughter And I talked about her. Was she a professional skater, do you think? Was she in the Olympics at one point? I mean, she's really good. And then she came off the ice and she sat back down in front of our window, and she opened up that frumpy, worn bag. She took off her skates, put them in and put on her shoes. And she once again became the woman who the world, I don't think ever really saw. And it didn't take long before she just blended into the sea of people and just disappeared. I think about her almost. I think about her all the time. Because it's not just her. You know, I wondered, does she come here for her lunch every day? Who is she? Where does she work? Does anybody know what she has in her bag that probably sits on the floor next to her desk? Does anybody know she's really an artist inside? I've thought about her for years. And perhaps more lately. I've written movies in my head about her. Movies that aren't ever going to be made, but I see them on the screen of my mind. She's the star in a world where she does her nine to five. She doesn't dress for anyone because she knows who she is and what other people think is not just important to her. Her job is just that. It's a job. She has friends there. But her real life, her real joy, is at home. And when she gets home, her husband sees her as the beautiful, graceful, angelic woman that she actually is. Imagine she was there alone on her lunch hour because her kids were in school. But most evenings in the winter, you'll find her skating with her children. And her daughter watches mom skate as she holds onto the side of the wall until she can find her own balance. She thinks, while watching her mom, that I want to grow up, just be just like her. How many people exist all around us that no one knows that you don't know? You walk by the desk every day and you don't really know them. Have you ever just sat down in a park and just really looked at a crowd and seen the ones that are alone and unseen by the crowd all around them and wondered, what is their story? Where do they come from? What do they do? And no one stops to notice. And there are millions of us, and maybe sometimes you're left with a gnawing in your chest that whispers, have I been forgotten? I mean, does my story even matter? My mom thought before she killed herself that the world would be fine without her. In fact, she thought it would be better off without her. That was a lie. The game's loneliness plays with your head and it convinces you to stay quiet. Stop reaching out. Because why would anybody care? I just want you to know you are here for a reason. And maybe that reason is because you need to hear. People do care. I care. Or maybe it's because you're supposed to send that message to somebody else today. That right now, in this moment, you're not invisible. You're not forgotten. You're heard and you're seen. I've been doing a lot of thinking lately. Perhaps too much. I don't. I do not know yet. Looking over the horizon, see what is coming or what is possible. And that is a blessing. It can be a curse. On some days, bad days, it is a curse. But in the end, I always come back to him. No matter what is happening in our world or our life, it is a blessing. Because we write the future. It does not write us. And that is something that is lost too many times. Don't allow time to write your future. Take control of it. Write your own future. Know that things can always change. But wherever you are is the right place for you right now. What is it you're supposed to learn? What is it you're supposed to do right now? What is the next right thing? Knowing that with God, all things are possible. And with him, you're never alone. I want you to know that we may never shake hands. We may never share a table. We may never laugh over something small and stupid together. But if I could, I would look you straight in the eye and tell you without blinking that you matter. And I am grateful that you are here. The world is different because you're in it. And maybe you can't see that right now, but I promise you, it's true. And if you're not struggling with this, somebody else you know is. And you need to tell them what I just told you. In this sea of loneliness so strange, in this epidemic of loneliness, people begin to feel it's because they're broken. Loneliness is not proof that you're broken. Loneliness is proof that you're human. Maybe there is not enough human stuff that we do every day because we were built for connection. One on one, look each other in the eye, talk to each other, feel somebody's hand, their shoulder, whatever it is, that connection, that love, that meaning that we all search for. And every time we reach for someone, every time we put those lies behind us, every small act of defiance like that against those whispers, you are punching a hole in the glass wall. That's all around. We need to tell each other. You're not as alone as you think you are. Nobody wants to say it out loud, but we are all alike. We just have different things that are going on in our life. Different things we are ashamed of. We are all alike. That is the thing that will break the spell. Understanding that we are all alike, that we're not that unique. It's so weird because we are all individuals and we all are unique. And we all have our own talents and our own gifts and our own role to play. That does not duplicate. I can't duplicate you, and you can't duplicate me because we're all unique. But then again, we're all exactly the same. It's this weird thing that. But once you get your arms around that, once you realize I'm not different. We all feel these things. We all have something inside of us that we're afraid of in some way or another. We're afraid we'll be exposed. We're afraid that people will figure out we're a fraud. We don't really belong here. We're not really good enough to be here.