There was a time in my life, not so long ago, when I absolutely loathed being alone. I would sometimes get physically ill at the mere thought of being in a house, all alone, completely by myself. And on the occasions when I had no other choice than to fly solo, I would always have the radio or the tv blaring in the background to provide a false sense of company to keep me from going mad until another human being came back to rescue me from my solitary hell.
This, I now know, is just a leeeeeettle bit crazy. But, as previously stated in this blog, I’ve known for a long time that there’s something definitely off somewhere in the recesses of my somewhat scatterbrained head. I like to think that’s part of what makes me so dang special. Aside from that, I’ve come to realize that part of the reason why I detested to be alone was because I had never truly known what it was like to be happy and at peace with the world around me.
Enter the love of a good man, a journey through almost every emotion, doubt and fear that a woman could ever think of, a little acceptance of others, as well as myself, and the ability not to care so much about the people who don’t matter and to care a little deeper about the one’s that do, and viola! Happiness and peace abound now!
God knows my life is far from perfect and I’ve still got a lot more to learn before my trip here on this earth is through. But sitting here in the cabin today, contemplating my next great adventure in life, and pondering just how and when this adventure is gonna begin, it occurred to me that I’m all by myself. The kids returned to school yesterday here in our little neck of the woods. There’s no television on, There’s no music blaring from the radio. There’s not even the gentle hum of a fan stirring the air in the house. There’s only me, all by myself. The only sounds around me are coming from the cicadas and the occasional rustle of the leaves on the trees from the breeze, and of course my extremely loud typing because, as I’ve said before, I just do not have the ability to type quietly.
This has been dang near close to a perfect afternoon. And for me, to be alone and still consider it to be a perfect afternoon, is a somewhat new and foreign concept. But I’m just gonna go with it.
I’ve only got about another hour of all this aloneness and then it’ll be time to pick up my son at the bus stop, so I’m gonna go perch out on the deck, recline back in one of the chairs, and just stare up at the sky through the tree tops for a while.
I can’t think of a better way to pass the time. Can you?