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Wednesday, May 17, 2006
Love of solitude
By Rene Lizada
Papa's Table
I LIKE being alone. I am comfortable by myself. And I treasure the moments and the times where I can be alone. In my life there are three moments that I can be alone.
The first and the most obvious one would be the times when I am in prayer. These days though, I find myself having more difficulty to calm myself down. When I was teaching I usually started my day early. I would wake up four in the morning. I would step out into the cold air and sit down in our lawn. I would place cassette tape in the recorder and just sit and listen and sometimes I could actually pray. I would look at the bluish black sky and peer out in the heavens. And sometimes a star would catch my eye and I would just stare at it. Then after having done morning prayers, I would step outside the house and start walking in the cool air. I love dawn walks when everything is serene and still.
I love to pray also in our prayer room though I have difficulty doing it now. I have cried, agonized, celebrated and rejoiced in that room. When I go there, I usually dim the lights, light a candle and play some spiritual songs. I just sit there staring at the wooden cross in the middle of the white wall. So many thoughts, so many feelings have passed through that room.
The second time where I can be alone is when I am walking. I love to walk. I love to walk around and think about the things that I need to resolve or do. Most of my talks and speeches have been formulated while walking. I suspect that there is this energy that I draw every time I walk.
When I need to write a speech, I walk. When I want to vent out my anger, I walk. When I celebrate I take a walk. When I need to weigh things I walk. Walks to me are soothing and energy boosting. It gives me the proper focus and balance. The last few months I have had long solitary walks and I have loved all of them.
Years ago, it was not walking that I did but rather driving around. I would take the car, play some music and just drive around. But because of the wife and the prices of fuel, I had to find an alternative. A cheaper one and that was walking. And now my walking has another side to it. I usually have my headphones as I walk and I just listen to music while walking. That way I isolate myself. I have many walks. And you can sense what I am thinking in the way that I walk.
There are happy walks and gloomy ones. There are thinking strides and painful walks. Sometimes I smile when I walk as I remember things and sometimes I nod my head in disbelief. There are times when I get carried away with the music that my hands involuntarily mimic a conductor's gestures. I admit I get lost when I walk.
And then there is the third where I can be alone and that is when I read. For sometime now I have been reading quite a lot. When I was teaching that was one pleasure that I missed. When I was working for the family business I did not have time to read. Reading is one of my private pleasures and passions. I totally agree with the philosopher Santayana when he was asked what heaven looked like. He said that it was some kind of library. Such a great definition for heave, a place filled with books.
I love the smell of books. I love bookstores. They are like sanctuaries to me, places of peace and inspiration. Because when I read I am immersed, gone from the world. Years ago my wife and I almost had a terrible fight because I was reading a book that I could not let go off. It was a rather thick book and I had been reading it for two days straight.
Books that have this magical hold on me that I just cannot shrug. I get lost in books in the manner that I get lost in songs and prayer.
I love the solitude of walks and music and books. I have cried over Whitman's poetry, the Psalms and the soft melodies of Secret Garden. I have managed to pick up the pieces, made some sense of pain and danced to the joy of discovery.
I have this suspicion that I could live in a monastery. What a joy that would be when you think about it. I would walk along silent hallways, peer into peaceful gardens, sit in front of a stream and listen to its breathing. I could lie in bed and just close my eyes and listen to the beating of my heart. Or I could listen to the soft dance of rain and the gentle whispers of the wind.
Oh yes, I love being alone. There is so much joy in solitude.
For Bisaya stories from Davao. Click here. (May 17, 2006 issue)
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