When Solitude Turns to Loneliness

It's been just over four months since moving up to the farm....Life continues to unfold and at times I feel like I'm at the center of it and at other times I feel like I'm on the periphery an outsider looking in...

It's hard to have an experience without judging it. I want to be here and know it yet there is an endless stream of commentary and analyzing. Do I like it better than the city? Do I regret my choice to come here? What am I missing by being here? What am I gaining by being here? Is this what I want? What do I want? I'd like to put the commentator on mute and just live it.

Being here alone has been an interesting experience. I am learning to be alone. It's very interesting because I experience that aloneness so differently during the morning and the evening.

The morning I greet the solitude like a dog greets his owner after a long separation. I welcome being alone with open arms. I look forward to sitting on my cushion, watching the spiraling smoke of incense, reading poetry in a dramatic voice, and speaking my prayers aloud..I relish in the ritual of making a cup of coffee...sitting in my corner journal in hand with view of the mist rising from distant Catskill mountains. With time, I make my way up to the circle to speak my prayers to the universe and to reaffirm my intention to live simply and to uplift the lives of others by uplifting my own life. This is sacred time. It feeds my soul and gives me a sense of purpose.

Being alone at night is different. At night being alone, solitude transforms into loneliness. In the country, that constant buzz of life that the city provides isn't here. Everyone retreats to their homes and routines. The opportunity for outside stimuli and distractions aren't as vastly available. When my car pulls down our long and dark driveway and I step out my aloneness is palpable. Fear begins to percolate and I am left with a choice of indulging it or letting it pass by. I've done both. I've tried to slow down my walk from the car to the house, to take time to look at the trees, the starry sky, and feel a part of it. That loneliness and fear subsides a little. I've wanted to take time to befriend the dark to walk around alone at night and explore her mysterious and wild ways. Yet, I haven't  strayed too far from the front porch. while I'm here alone but for the most part I come inside, lock my door, and try to fill that hole I feel. I was hoping that these lonely moments would lead to creativity but I find myself self soothing in easier more habitual ways. In my mind, I'd greet the darkness with song and poetry but I've mostly found myself scrolling through Facebook, texting friends, and in general making noise to cover the din of loneliness and fear. What would happen if I sat here in the quiet and stillness of the night? What if I just simply sat in it and didn't try to cover it up? Would fear eventually turn to boredom? Then what? Would I perhaps meet that wild yet shy woman who lives in my soul? Would I be able to hear her call?

My First Night

As my husband drove away down our long gravel driveway...my coldness gave way to tears after I could no longer see his car.... Everything that I've been anticipating the entire summer is now upon me. 

A year ago we were spending our first night here filled with hope and anticipation...Sitting on this very brick shelf we contemplated the potential we were sitting in. We thought about all this home would come to witness...all the joy and pain of life....

Now I am sitting here alone....wondering if the distance we now feel is here to stay or will give way to something new....

At this point I really don't know where we stand...

I know that I want to stay present in my choice to come up here. I want to surprise myself. I want to be strong, content, and present. I want loneliness to give birth to creativity....

On the Brink

Dancing on the razor’s edge 

On the brink of something new

It’s that instant right before night ends and day breaks

It’s that moment right before a blossom bursts into a flower

It’s that tension upon which creation manifests

On the brink of when death gives birth to life

Shedding the ways we used to be 

Surrendering to who we may become.

On the Brink

Dancing on the razor’s edge 

On the brink of something new

It’s that instant right before night ends and day breaks

It’s that moment right before a blossom bursts into a flower

It’s that tension upon which creation manifests

On the brink of when death gives birth to life

Shedding the ways we used to be 

Surrendering to who we may become