Sitting on my kitchen table is a cute little round tray with a picture of a snug country cottage courtesy of artist Thomas Kincaid. On the tray is a vase of pussy willows and a little, two-cup tea pot with a matching cup. On the cup there is a saying:
“Solitude can be a much-to-be-desired condition.” Maya Angelou
Desired? In a world that seems to go by at the speed of light while connected to millions of people at the touch of a keypad, solitude is not only desired, it is a necessity! In fact, it is the #1 item on my own self-care survival list.
Solitude gives us a chance to stop, catch our breath, and take stock of where we are. It helps us get re-acquainted with ourselves and our relationships with others. It feeds our soul.
Gifted writer and poet May Sarton explains what solitude means to her in the opening to her best-selling book: Journal of a Solitude: “I am here alone for the first time in weeks, to take up my ‘real’ life again at last. That is what is strange-that friends, even passionate love, are not my real life, unless there is time alone in which to explore and to discover what is happening or has happened.”
Sarton has hit the nail square on the head. It’s wonderful to be able to sit alone, in silence, and listen to our heart, but we have to be able to understand what is being said. We have to know what things mean. When I’ve had a set-back of some sort, or an unexpected problem has come up, I will react from my feelings just like everyone else. I may get angry, sad, or frustrated. However, what just happened or is about to happen may not mean what I think it means. So I have adopted a strategy for handling these situations: I get myself home, shut off the electronics, make myself a cup of tea, and sit in solitude. I may meditate on the problem, or journal about it – or both. I ask myself: “What does this mean? How am I perceiving it, and is there another alternative to feeling this way? “
Sarton goes on to explain just this type of situation: “I hope to break through into the rough rocky depths, to the matrix itself. There is violence there and anger never resolved.”
The
Gifts of Solitude
By Barb Parcells