Thank you, Solitude.

Thank you, Solitude.

A leading definition of solitude is aloneness: the state of being alone. Okay. But the synonyms offered are a bit heavy; many suggesting loneliness, seclusion, detachment, even emptiness. I’m not entirely on board. The solitude I refer to is not one of loneliness, detachment, or emptiness at all. Quite the contrary, solitude, to me, represents a certain fullness or wholeness. I have never felt closer to ‘me’ in my life.

Thank you, Solitude. You may not have been a path entirely chosen, but the walk has been one of many unexpected lessons and gifts. My solo walk – unplugged and uncluttered, free from distraction – has provided me time alone to reflect, to feel, to ponder, to examine, to understand, and to pursue. Had I rushed to fill a void I would have missed the journey’s landscape and its offering.

Most every night I lie down in bed sifting through the whirlwind of observations from the day’s interactions in my mind. It’s my meditation zone. It’s like a clip of my experiences on replay with my voice overlaid, analyzing play-by-play, what I noticed, how it made me feel, what it taught me, and perhaps how it changed me. I am amazed at what I’m still learning about my self as I navigate through ‘new’.

Solitude, you demonstrated that you don’t need another to feel complete; you are complete just as you are. It’s your relationship between you and something bigger that fills you first. The presence of someone who complements you is an addition that may add beauty to your life only after you have established a sense of personal contentment.

You taught me that there is no cookie-cutter version of life, and that holding on too tightly to a particular ideal or expectation only leaves you feeling disappointment and failure; that family and love and lives come in all shapes, sizes, and configurations, and that one can thrive in most any, given the right attitude and will. You taught me that I need to break the mold I may have built for myself, and let my passion be the guide to my happiness.

Thank you for opening my eyes to the strength that I held inside; the untapped reserve awaiting the heavy stuff (in case of emergency: break glass), teaching me just how far I could push myself when the cause was worthy, and just how capable I am.

Thank you, Solitude, for encouraging me to uncover and retrieve my identity as the one unique me, aside from any other person, or relationship, or label, or expectation. Our voice from inside may be too faint to hear at times. Remaining free from distraction for a period of healing helps that voice gain volume. That voice seeks to speak the truth and speak purpose, and perhaps keep us pointed in a direction true to ourselves.

You have exercised my patience, ripped control from my desperate grip, and squashed fears. You’ve made me a problem solver, a student, a leader, a listener, and a soul searcher. You taught me to honor my dreams and shrug at those who don’t get them.

This period in my life will always be sacred. It will be the time in which I became a real independent grown-up, again – or something like that. It will be a time in which I found myself outside of a pairing, outside of the familiar; the comfortable, the expected. It will be the time in which I survived; maybe even thrived. It will mark the season of my greatest independence and growth.

Thank you, Solitude.