Loneliness or being alone.

I guess it is easy, being alone at home, to feel lonely.

Even so, most us us know, there is no guarantee that, even with a houseful of people, we won’t feel lonely; which is not a good feeling.

Miranda, The Tempest, by John W Waterhouse

 

I love sitting peacefully listening to silence. And when I sit quietly, that is when answers come and I feel less alone. It is part of a greater realisation that I am actually never alone. If I can only remember, on the days I feel hassled, to listen out for that awareness. Hard to put into writing, but true, even so.

How many of us say we are lonely? Yet, do we make enough good quality time to rest peacefully? Even when doing something relatively calming, like reading a book or listening to music, we fret about all the things we should be doing.

The long school holidays were an interesting time for me. Seldom alone, I decided to abandon all ideas of working, and in doing so, the stress melted away – so I really enjoyed the time off, though as time passed, I felt myself yearning for opportunities just to be alone. Even an hour was rare. There have been plenty of challenges, but staying with them made them easier to resolve easily.

I need a connection with silence, which, however it works, seems to offer lots of answers far more easily than if I decide I have to push and shove. How lovely when we can find answers by doing ‘nothing’ and discern a way forward; when we discover that all the things we create while resting are valuable and on point.

Why should work be a stress, or rest, a snatched, hurried interlude? That doesn’t seem to be a good way to live.

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