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Solitude

Solitude

Field by the Trail of 100 Giants ©Dylan Mattina, 2018

 

Full moons can be intense experiences for me. I feel everything ten fold and usually end up diving deep for a few days. Afterwards, I am often surprised by what I have written.

This poem reflects back on some challenging times when disappointment was a constant companion. Bringing people close calls for vulnerability. It is sometimes easier to stay somewhat isolated even though this leads to an unwelcome loneliness. My proclivity is to go to a place of solitude when in need. It was and is my sanctuary. A space in which I can process all the emotion and information being receiving, then let it go.

 

Solitude

Here I go, watch me say goodbye

Too a place of quiet behind my third eye

Try to catch me, don’t even blink

The tide has turned and in the depths I sink

 

You wouldn’t find me here, I choose to be alone

No friends, no interruptions, no telephone

Only with stillness will I be

Swimming in the darkness of a tumultuous sea

 

Whisper in my ear if you need to say

All that was misunderstood and thought okay

Words left unsaid cut like a knife

The blade is dull but heavy with strife

 

Never one to linger when falseness abounds

Uncovering truths as a gasp resounds

Seeing all written in the ink of prelude

I choose instead, solitude

– Lavinia Busch

The Importance of Solitude

The Importance of Solitude

My emotions move like the tides of the ocean and in any given day I feel these undulations manifesting in an often turbulent emotional landscape. Thankfully, I recognize what I am usually feeling, is an energy shift outside of myself. The uneasy feelings following me are not of my own doing and may be a product of others worries, fears and anxiety.  It has taken many years to understand this by becoming aware of the emotional temperature of my surroundings. One way in which I have learned to calm this energetic storm is by being quiet, retreating into an internal and private space that is mine and mine alone. When the energy is coming from external sources, this is the only way to find balance once again.

 

“If you’re lonely when you’re alone, you’re in bad company.”

~ Jean-Paul Sartre

 

To those around me, it may appear I am a bit more quiet than usual.  This retreat does not mean hiding out in a room with the lights dimmed, rather moving about my day in a more reserved fashion. I suspect if another is keyed into energy, they can sense I am not my usual inviting self. As one going through this process, I often feel foggy and muted. I see the world happening around me, with little interest in circumstances. It all seems very dreamlike, and in this state, my mind is sorting and analyzing many pieces of information and resting from the emotional static. I never know how long I will be in this place, and am just as surprised as the next when I suddenly shift back into my welcoming and friendly self.

 

“Writing is utter solitude, the descent into the cold abyss of oneself.”

~ Franz Kafka

 

Sitting quietly and finding some semblance of tranquility, going on a hike in nature, reading a good book or sitting on my back porch speeds up this process. I breathe deeply, let my body relax and let go.  I let go of what is not mine, the problems, the worries and the misgivings. I remind myself they are not for me and focus my intention on this letting go. Once I have done this, I feel much better, refreshed and somehow brighter.

 

“A little while alone in your room will prove more valuable than anything else that could ever be given you.”

~ Rumi

 

If I am with someone that does not understand my need for space, things can get dicey. When I require time to recharge and am not afforded it, I can sadly become moody or withdrawn, having had no way to release all of the external energy I have been carrying. For this reason and many others, the importance of solitude for an introspective person cannot be stressed enough. If you have people in your life that require this time, give it to them. Don’t add additional stress to their life by setting limitations on this time. You will also find by carving out some space for introspection, you may become more balanced and open as well. Not a bad tradeoff for some time alone.

 

The Invitation

The Invitation

The Invitation

It doesn’t interest me
what you do for a living.
I want to know
what you ache for
and if you dare to dream
of meeting your heart’s longing.

It doesn’t interest me
how old you are.
I want to know
if you will risk
looking like a fool
for love
for your dream
for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn’t interest me
what planets are
squaring your moon…
I want to know
if you have touched
the centre of your own sorrow
if you have been opened
by life’s betrayals
or have become shrivelled and closed
from fear of further pain.

I want to know
if you can sit with pain
mine or your own
without moving to hide it
or fade it
or fix it.

I want to know
if you can be with joy
mine or your own
if you can dance with wildness
and let the ecstasy fill you
to the tips of your fingers and toes
without cautioning us
to be careful
to be realistic
to remember the limitations
of being human.

It doesn’t interest me
if the story you are telling me
is true.
I want to know if you can
disappoint another
to be true to yourself.
If you can bear
the accusation of betrayal
and not betray your own soul.
If you can be faithless
and therefore trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see Beauty
even when it is not pretty
every day.
And if you can source your own life
from its presence.

I want to know
if you can live with failure
yours and mine
and still stand at the edge of the lake
and shout to the silver of the full moon,
“Yes.”

It doesn’t interest me
to know where you live
or how much money you have.
I want to know if you can get up
after the night of grief and despair
weary and bruised to the bone
and do what needs to be done
to feed the children.

It doesn’t interest me
who you know
or how you came to be here.
I want to know if you will stand
in the centre of the fire
with me
and not shrink back.

It doesn’t interest me
where or what or with whom
you have studied.
I want to know
what sustains you
from the inside
when all else falls away.

I want to know
if you can be alone
with yourself
and if you truly like
the company you keep
in the empty moments.

By Oriah © Mountain Dreaming,
from the book The Invitation
published by HarperONE, San Francisco,
1999 All rights reserved

 

As poems go, this one strikes a chord. As one drawn by the heart and soul of another, I find societies emphasis on all else tiring. I am not deceived by this costume or covering worn in an attempt to appear familiar to many and foreign to few.  I can be in the same space with another and see they are putting on errs, hiding pain, sadness, frustration. Oriah speaks to this with “if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without, moving to hide it, or fade it, or fix it.” It makes people so uncomfortable to be face to face with another’s pain let alone their own.  We are taught that we must tough it out, be strong, never let anyone see us in a state of weakness. My initial inclination is always fixing the problem. I try to fight this urge by using deep listening as my response instead.

 

I am also deeply touched by the lines, “I want to know if you can, disappoint another, to be true to yourself. If you can bear, the accusation of betrayal, and not betray your own Soul.” Coming from a very traditional home in which being highly goal oriented was valued, I found myself lost between expectations I thought my parents held and my own desires and creative urges. I was academic and could have been a doctor, lawyer or CEO. Instead I was draw to the arts, the ethereal and aesthetic qualities of movement and writing. It has taken me much reflection to be at ease with this contradiction. I know my family loves me, but my passions are not viewed as a contribution in quite the same way as more traditional work.

 

Finally, I see myself in the last stanza. “I want to know, if you can be alone, with yourself, and if you truly like, the company you keep, in the empty moments.” My best friend is myself. Strange as it may sound, I enjoy my own company. I like to be lost in thought, listening to music with no distraction. I am definitely not a recluse, but I do pull energy from moments of solitude. When I find that same quality in another, knowing we can be alone together sitting in the same room while deeply immersed in something that speaks to me, I am overjoyed. It is this type of person that I am drawn to; a person that knows when to provide space for quiet and when to meet me at the gates of my solitude, drawing me out into the world to play and explore once again.