It's totally quiet as I sit in my house right now. I can hear the hum of the Keurig every so often as it cycles to keep the water warm, and the clicking of my keys while I type. There is the soft hum of the refrigerator, and every once in awhile I hear my sleeping dog sigh, but besides these sounds there is nothing else there.
And I love it.
When I was in college I knew a girl who positively hated being alone. If a night came where she didn't have plans, she would come down to the store I worked at and sit and wait just so she didn't have to be alone. At one point I tried talking to her about it. I suggested she take the time to read a book, or get a project done around her apartment, or maybe just go for a walk. Her response was clear, although somewhat befuddling to me... she just couldn't stand to be alone.
Even then, in my late teens, I didn't understand this at all. I loved people, loved going out, loved parties and friends, and all the normal college things, but I also loved to be alone. I could get so much more done, I could really think through things, I could become more 'me' when alone. At the time I chalked this friend up to being somewhat immature. Maybe she just wasn't comfortable enough with who she was to be okay being alone for the evening. Maybe her adolescent need for attention was still strong. Whatever it may have been, I figured that was the kind of thing that one eventually 'outgrows'.
But I was wrong.
Fast forward 15 years to a time in my life where I am a stay at home mom with little kids, and playdates, and mom friends. I was shocked to find that more than one of the new friends and acquaintances I met seemed to be saddled with the same fear that I had seen in my college friend. Their lives had to be filled up with playdates and errands, any down time was filled with phone calls and busy work. I was shocked to learn that for a stay at home mom, these women hated to be home by themselves.
I didn't understand. The more I thought about it, the more I came to realize that I was looking at the same problem I saw when I was a teen. Some people never really learn the art of being alone.
The more I think about it, the more I realize that it is just that - an art. To really be alone, you have to really be okay with the person that you are. You have to have some level of internal confidence and be willing to accept yourself in the stark lighting that is solitude. There are no friends or small talk to occupy your mind. There is only quiet and your thoughts.
Like any art, this one takes practice. If you aren't practiced in it, it's going to be very hard. Once you have mastered it, you can wield your brush to create beautiful things...mostly yourself. I've found that time alone is when I can look at myself in the most raw way to find who I am as a person, and alternately, who I want to be as a person. It's in these times that I can find the parts of my life that I need to work on, and the parts of my life that I'm so proud of. The path isn't revealed in some biblical way, but at least I can envision where I am, and where I want to be. I walk away from these moments with a renewed inner confidence that I actually am pretty awesome.
I wish I could go back to that girl in college and sit down and talk with her. I wish I could tell her that she was good enough to be by herself...that she didn't need to surround herself with the mental noise of others all the time. I wish I could go back to have a heart to heart with my mom friends, although I'm not really sure that they would have been willing to hear what I was trying to tell them.
I wish I could tell them that once you are okay being by yourself, you are pretty much okay being anywhere.
I've lost track of my college friend over the years, but chances are she's married, maybe she has a few kids at home. I hope that wherever she is, she has learned the art of being by herself. I hope she has learned that there is joy in silence.
Now excuse me while I sit here and drink my coffee in peace and practice the art of being alone.
No comments:
Post a Comment