It is a great mistake to equate solitude with loneliness. Loneliness is the starved aching for another – it hurts and is most unpleasant. But solitude; ah the bliss of solitude.. In solitude I can hear my own thoughts. My tensed up soul unwinds adrift in a sea of song and poetry. Solitude is as necessary to survival as is breathing. The world can get so loud. It cares not for boundaries and clamors so incessantly for your attention. At times I can feel it suffocating me and I am overwhelmed with a desperate urge to run away and hide so that I can just be. So that I can just breathe. It is a tiredness that is bone deep…
And so I search for pockets of peace and stillness. A book here, a garden there. The view of a sky so breathtaking that, if only for a second, time stands still and all is well. A quiet day alone at home with nothing on the board – just me, a pen and some paper.
I know that the world does not stop spinning for ones like me though. I know I must force myself to keep up. And that it is selfish to crave as much quietness and solitude as I do. But in the occasions I can have it, I will relish every moment and nurture my frazzled soul. Please don’t ever deprive me of these moments, nor condemn me for my needing them. I honestly wouldn’t know what to do otherwise..
Give me my time and I will always come out all the better for it.
– writing this in bed at 6pm, Rachel Sermanni softly playing in the background (today is bliss).