1/2/10 - On Being Alone

Being alone used to make me uncomfortable. Whenever I was, I distracted myself with TV or the telephone until it was over, like it was some kind of mild illness. Now I enjoy being alone. I love even the process of thinking about what I can do to make me happy. I can read and write and meditate and listen to music. I can walk and quilt and make jewelry and do laundry and grocery shop. Sometimes I get all kinds of stuff done, and sometimes I lay around watching hours of terrible TV and trolling Facebook.

I still don't want to go out to eat alone, but that's probably not too far off.

I expecially love being alone when the weather allows me to be outside with my backyard friends.

Yesterday I opted out of a gathering to spend the day with myself. I had a nice time with me.

I think I dreaded being alone before I knew I was interesting. I thought a person got kind of lost if  there was no one to witness...like the things you experienced didn't count, somehow, if no one else was there to see. Now I think sometimes the opposite is true. I get lost when I am with too many people... especially people toward whom I feel a resistance.

I do still love to be with my love and my family and my friends, but I don't feel (anymore) as if I am defined by or through them. I am finding my own kind of private definition, and I am finding I like it.