Alone

I am alone, driving in my car. I feel the breeze whip my hair as it encompasses me through the open windows. My ears are filled with the music blaring to beats I should have given up long ago, but their upbeat and youthful sounds make me feel energized. I revel in the sensation of driving; the freedom, the independence, and the capabilities it brings to me. I have always loved this time behind the wheel of my car that takes me away from where I was and brings me back to myself.

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I am sitting cross-legged in the computer chair with the cat on my lap. I can hear the toddler’s show playing on the TV in the livingroom and by his silence I can tell he is content. I am warm from the cat that drapes over my legs and comforted by the semi-solitude that engulfs me as I hear the click clack of the keyboard transform my thoughts into words on the screen.

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I am outside. The sun warms my body and my soul and my son’s laughter reaches to the sky with his squeals of delightment. The water sprinkler tries to reach us both but as my son bravely runs through it, I stand to the side watching him and only wetting my feet. The brightness of the day contrasts with my mood of darkness, and as much as I wish to be in this moment, I feel that I am somehow somewhere else.

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The shower runs almost scalding over me, as if somehow it could wash away my thoughts if I just let it run long enough or warm enough. Scented body wash lingers over my skin as I move my hands over my body to wash myself of the dirt, the day, my thoughts.

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It’s quiet here when the sun goes down. The toddler’s breaths are heavy and content. I like it when I see a trace of a smile flicker across his face because then I know he is having a good dream. His peaceful sleeping brings me comfort. I don’t want to move too much because I don’t want to disturb the toddler or the cat that is perched by my feet. I will my body to sleep, but my mind busies itself with unwelcome thoughts and ponderings. It will be many more hours before I will find a restful slumber.

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I am here, surrounded by my life, but I so often feel so very alone.

Unexpected Gifts

Sometimes the thoughts in my mind are so intense and feverish and many that they threaten to trample over each other until they erupt from my fingertips onto the page.

Sometimes the darkness in my mind contrasts so sharply with the bright white of the screen that I can not organize a thought.

Sometimes the blank canvas in my mind so is so accurately reflected in the blank canvas of the screen that I hate to dirty it with the stain of intimate thoughts.

But always, I find this space to be calming. Always waiting for me to come back and fill it. Always there to let me explore the collage of thoughts floating in my mind, tearing through to the surface, gasping for the first breath of life, when I type them here and give them a voice.

Always, here, I find myself at peace. In the solitude of writing, in the solitude of self exploration, where I allow my world to be quiet and listen to myself. Always, here, I find a new piece of me. Always, here, I discover inspiration.

I listen to myself most often at night, when the house is dark except for the faint light coming in through the window. When the world is quiet except for the sounds of my husband and my son breathing next to me in bed. Where my cat curls up at my feet and my breath falls in tune with the people I cherish. It is then that I can stop, and listen, and learn things that I already knew, but never took the time to process. In these moments I am at peace. And in these moments I can reflect here.

This blog is my place of peace for my thoughts and my inner stillness. Listening to the words that so desperately accumulate in my mind and then pour onto this page has inspired me. Giving myself this place of solitude to write and reflect and grow has turned into an unexpected gift.

Have you given yourself an unexpected gift?