There is a gap between loneliness & solitude. I used to spend a lot of time in the former & now find myself firmly ensconced in the latter. Yet I am only now noticing the difference.
When I was a child, I cherished being alone because the only person to be with was Mom & she was demanding at best… “Did you do the list? Ironing? Vacuuming? Polishing?” All I’d done with the list was find a hiding place I thought she’d never look for it. This didn’t work as Mother had a memory beyond normal & was quite willing to review every chore left undone, every sin committed against hearth & home in that category. And she always started with the very first time I’d missed something & worked into the present. So being alone meant I could do just what I wanted & only that.
It became loneliness when I didn’t want to be the only person in the mirror. This was a position I occupied for many years, an Occupation worthy of the name torture.
There came a time when I began to appreciate (tho did not really recognize) that doing these little jobs earned me personal rewards of satisfaction, of fresh environs & clean clothes. I liked keeping up with the house & the sense of accomplishment it brought.
There are many who cannot handle their own company: they cry their missing persons as tho their tears will draw them back. I sure don’t. When you’re gone from my life, especially if I’m the one who’s chosen to put you out of bounds, you’re gone. I say goodbye, erase the contact information anywhere it occurs & pay it no more mind.
Um, this is probably not normal. But I’ve never laid claims to that term personally. I seldom look back & if I do, it is to find something I left behind, not because I’m into remaking the contact.
Others lament relationships gone dry, squandered money & the gaps in life they perceive from these. I move ahead, working around any holes in the emotional landscape until I fill them in. I’m more likely to miss some activity done together than the person I did it with.
There has always been a set-aside for this in me: I don’t feel it should be this easy. But it is. I don’t linger in it, I don’t doubt myself anymore for being the way I am.
I figure I’ve achieved two goals set long ago in my life: nothing left to lose & nothing left to prove. This provides stress relief immeasurable! If I haven’t proven my worth, probably never will. If I have lost because of an encounter, not much I say or do in that newer reality will resolve or bind it back.
I know others feel I’m faking this, but, no, it is real enough. I’ll hang a hat on it & await tomorrow in peace & comfort. I figure I’m made this way, for better or worse, so I may as well get on with life in the new paradigm thus created.
I claim my power & presence in this way. I don’t have to tell my stories anymore – if I don’t care for others’, how much less will they care for mine? I keep the funny ones only & repeat them for best effect.
Could this mean a constant revamping of selfhood? That’s one result of being thus. So many spend life with a crick in their neck from looking behind. I’ve always felt I cannot get ahead gazing over my shoulder.
Less than perfect I stand. Happy in this condition I walk forward. Blessed to the uttermost, I am.