“We live, in fact, in a world starved for solitude, silence, and privacy, and therefor starved for meditation and true friendship.” ~C.S. Lewis
It’s in that quiet time when the dark of the evening moves fully in, when the shades are pulled down, and the candles in their nooks and on their tables are lit, that my friend comes in to visit with me…
Her name is solitude, and when I’m with her, I’m never lonely.
Solitude ushers in the calm, and that deep, luscious, delicious ache of the heart that is so familiar to me, that so desperately longs for fullness of life, for richness of experience, for the voracious devouring of each moment that I can grasp.
Solitude is a muse, the one who beckons me into contemplation, into communion with God, into communion with the sacred and the mystical.
She brings in the breath of the night, and urges the co-mingling of the physical with spiritual, of the heart with the soul.
It’s alright to disconnect from the chaos for a while, to not be bothered by what is happening in the world outside…
Oh, this wonderful flickering darkness…
This beautiful, reflective, momentary retreat into the cave…
It is scrumptious, and divine in flavor, and needed.
In solitude, I am never alone.
Rather, I am with myself, and with a favorite song that plays in my mind over and over again as a perfect soundtrack to this moment that I gladly sit in.
It’s alright to disconnect from the chaos for a while, to not be bothered by what is happening in the world outside for a sliver of time, in order to go back out into it made stronger and more resilient, and centered.
Solitude is a kind, soft and precious gal, never one to argue or raise her voice, or create discord.
She is simply a friend, the Creator’s aid in bringing each of us to stillness, to truth, to the present, to something real.
Solitude is nothing to be feared.
She is a haven to escape into when the world churns and twists and whirls, when the machinery of life grinds and clinks and sputters a bit too loudly.
She is the oil for those gears in need of greasing.
Solitude is my friend, and she does not judge.
She simply opens her arms to embrace me, and to turn my face to the mirror, and remind me of who I am a little deeper down. And once I’m there, she sends me back out into the mix again, into the light of day—by then, I am ready to go.
Taste what’s good and pass it on.