SOME people can’t be alone. I am not one of them.
I’m home alone this weekend and I’m loving the solitude, space and silence. It’s not that I don’t like company but sometimes, the cacophony can be deafening. I’m not a hermit but I like retreating to my cave, once in a while—even though it exists only in my mind.
This weekend, my cave is real—and I am savoring it.
I’m sitting here typing away on my computer and once in a while, I look out the window. It’s all green from where I sit. I see the leaves moving so I know there’s a wind outside. It’s a beautiful day and just half an hour ago, I caught the sunset by the window. Or perhaps, the sunset caught me. I can’t help but smile.
I don’t have many moments like this. I live a frenetic life on a daily basis. But I suppose it’s by choice. I’m a high-energy person by nature. Even without caffeine in my system—I’m on a constant high.
I don’t hate the frenetic pace. I’m a highly adaptable organism. I thrive in all types of environments. But sometimes, it can become too much. And so I need to hit the pause button. This is why I need to be alone and away from everything and everyone, once in a while.
I am definitely not a social butterfly but I don’t think I’m anti-social either though I’ve called myself that, in the past. I think the right term might be “selectively social.” I move within a very small circle. I choose to be with people with whom I don’t need to make small talk.
I like being alone. I hear more in the silence. I think better in the space that solitude grants me.
It’s not a rejection of humankind. Solitude is simply a state I need to be in, once in a while, to be able to recharge and then return and reconnect with the rest of humankind.
I like being next to nature. I like walking in the woods, scrambling in the rocks, wading in the waves but I can just be as content watching the sunset framed within the branches of a tree from my window. Somehow, I find that nature possesses enormous healing powers—both for the body as well as the mind.
It’s almost like meditation. Seeing the trees sway in the wind, hearing the rustle of the leaves, smelling the salt in the air calms the chaos in my mind.
Perhaps, this need for solitude, space and silence is borne from years of living with cacophony. I love my family but we are a loud and rowdy lot. And while I don’t dislike living in the city, I’m a small-town girl at heart.
I love Sundays and holidays when the cars on the road are fewer and everything is just quieter. That’s probably why I’m a nocturnal creature. But my sister says my utopia is bad for the economy.
Some people can’t be alone. I am not one of them. I’m home alone this weekend and so far, I’ve learned a lot in the solitude, space and silence.