Alone

It has been said that each of us is ultimately alone. I prefer to think of now and there as the only ultimate, but what is probably meant is that our moments alone seem somehow truer, more real. The word ‘God’ only begins to have meaning for me in a discussion. I don’t think religion is an attainable subject for the intellect. I can only believe when I am not talking about it.

I need solitude like I need food and rest, and like eating and resting, solitude is most satisfying when it fits the rhythm of my needs. A regularly schedule aloneness does not nourish me.

Solitude is nearly a misnomer. To me, being alone means togetherness – the re-coming-together of me and nature, of me and being; the reuniting of me with all. For me, solitude especially means putting the parts of me back together – the unifying of myself whereby I see once again that the little things are little and the big things are big.

I believe that solitude is a profound and needed act of self-love and self-appreciation.