Solitude

Endless people.  Endless lines.  Every once in a 

while, one needs to get out of the line, step to the 

side and take a deep breath.  Carve out a little

time and space for quiet time, for solitude, for the self.

I seldom take the time to do this.  I get so caught

up in the gotta-do-it stuff that I find the day has 

passed without a moment for slowing down my

body or my brain.  Not a moment in the day to 

allow me to get in touch with the stillness that 

I love so much.

Last month I was in Venice.  My partner and I 

were staying at an hotel that served a full breakfast 

in the downstairs dining room.  Lani likes to sleep

late and  I love the very early hours, so the first 

morning of our visit I took myself to the dining 

room for breakfast.  It turned out to be much more

than breakfast.  It was a magical time, a time that 

was just mine.  No one else to intrude on my 

thoughts.  No one else to interrupt my reading.  No

one else to have to acknowledge -- except me.  

And then I realized how seldom I do this 

acknowledging of me; this honoring of the self.

I felt as if I was wrapped in a cocoon, sheltered 

from the entire world.  It was like being cradled 

in bliss.  My soul soared in the completeness of it

all.   Stillness.  Nothing to do but be.  A chance 

to eat slowly, to relish every morsel.  A chance 

to look up and observe the few other diners -- or

not -- and to have yet another cup of fragrant coffee

and maybe just a little more of that delicious pastry. 

There were no rules.  No diets.  Nothing but the bliss 

of being alone.

I guess the closest I come to that heaven is when

 I arise very early and come down to write.  

The stillness is thick and the darkness comforting.

There is a unique quality in the air, in the space 

of an early morning.  The birds are just beginning 

their songs.  There's a solitude that soothes; takes 

away the hard edges of worry and drive.  When 

I have this quiet time to welcome my day, it is a 

guarantee of a different type of day to follow.  I am 

grounded.  I deal with the tumult in a much more 

gracious manner.

This stillness, this lack of complexity, is calling 

to me.  I treasure my solitude.  I treasure myself 

when I submit to this solitude.  When I grow

up, or perhaps in my next lifetime, I want to be 

solitary Japanese maple with delicate green foliage 

that sways lightly in the breeze, sitting in warm

earth with the sun keeping me company.  

Just the earth and the sun.  

And me.