Experiments in Solitude

A soul’s conversation

For all its exhilaration and fascination, the world is a hard jostle full of indiscriminate and anonymous indignities. A cacophony from other souls fighting their own battles and calendars.

But a time comes when we all shut the door. A recharge. A moment. A need to breathe deep and crawl towards the quiet.

The TV stays off. The volume diminishes. The other noises silenced. You stay with your thoughts…seeking space and peace.

Perhaps it comes.

Perhaps, the inner busybody crawls in with to-dos, anxieties, replays, and speculations. A need to compare, contrast, experiment with perspectives, set new goals…for tomorrow of course. In the meantime, we tweak, obsess, and let the mind play with these plans like a new toy.

But it masks the underlying question.

Why does the quiet feel like this?

We let the stream of thoughts run like a raging river of shoulds and schemes.

From here, it’s an easy turn back to distraction.

There are people and advertisements through the screens. A way to reach out without touching. Its comforts fleeting and far from deep and satisfying.

So we sit a little longer….here

Watching the self like a foreign creature.

A soul wrapped in an aging body who smiles and cries, with scars seen and unseen.

Sometimes we don’t even recognize the image, despite its personal and intimate nature.

An uneasy acceptance of who we see in the mirror. Hear in our head.

We mutter under the breath…a steady ticking flow of thoughts shared constantly, uselessly, imperceptible. A dripping emotional faucet relieving the pressure from the inside chatter.

How did we get here?

How are we still alive?

Past trespasses poke up from the dark shadow of memory. A flash of regret, shame, and guilt.

The flash illuminates the doubt.

Are we loved? Liked? Okay-ed? Maybe a little reviled?

Does it matter outside this moment?

In the solitude, we worry about being forgotten. Seeded by a true fear of abandonment from some lingering past hurt, that can no longer be remembered. But it moves deep inside, driving us forward, manifesting as a need for control, in an uncontrollable and unconcerned world.

Coming back to the moment.

Sit with it. Cherish it. Let its edges soften…grateful it’s not worse.

We start to hum a soothing song. It’s the one you carry for times like these. Guitars and poetry takes us to a new place.

To count the blessings that lie forgotten on the edges of the mental clutter created by you and you alone.

The minutes tick by. And the dark of evening comes.

The heart beats, and beats. The breath slides into rhythm. The heart curls up next to the fire inside.

It’s a wonder this world. It’s a wonder this human existence. It’s a wonder.

So ends the experiment in solitude.