It seemed like a good idea at the time, naming different forms of loneliness, that is. I guess if I had more time I could have spit them all out in quick concession, but I had to do life and this particular project lost it’s momentum.
It was never fueled by loneliness, just an interest in the topic and the many ways people feel lonely. I kind of love feeling lonely. I’m not trying to comfort myself or use any reverse psychology. The truth is, I’ve embraced it. The reason being, I believe without doubt that this condition is temporary.
I’m a very relational human being, capable of giving and receiving love with realistic expextations. It is only a matter of time that I will find myself in a loving relationship. And I don’t care if it is six months or six years away, I really don’t. Because alone time is a very special and creative time. I’m reveling in it. Not just the awesome feeling of sleeping diagonally on a bed or having a bagel for dinner, but courting myself. Getting to know my ever-evolving self, and being truly loving towards me.
A few years ago, this would have been way too corny to even write down. Hell, a few months ago it would have sounded too corny. But let me tell you about the spontaneous date I took myself on; My friend cancelled on me at the last minute, so I decided to go walk around Naples by myself, and look at Christmas lights! Who does that? Not many, I can assure you. I saw nothing but families and couples, and me. But I didn’t care. It was a beautiful and festive night, with clear skies. I was comfortable in my jacket and running shoes, and I enjoyed everything I saw.
Did you know you don’t have to bounce every thought off another person to enjoy it? Or that it is sometimes wonderful to have opinions kept to yourself? I heard so many (especially women, I’ll admit) filling the air with useless chatter about which house they liked, which one was too much, which one was their favorite. I almost felt sorry for them for not knowing that everything doesn’t need to be talked about. I’m sure I’ve been that woman every year in the past, but this time I found great contentment in not having to share my opinion with anyone. It would have actually taken away from the experience.
If I do walk around Naples with another person next year, I think I want to make a pact. Let’s not talk, okay? Let’s just look? I mean what needs to be said that isn’t obvious or hasn’t been said before? Kind of like a silent retreat, Buddhist-style, but while walking around viewing opulence. We can just exchange knowing glances and leave it at that. Big eyes at the audacious houses, subtle nods to the classics, okay? Just nod. You don’t have to answer.
Then I happened upon a serendipitous moment; a young man playing my favorite instrument, which you may not know is a violin. With no one else’s impatience to impede me, I chose to sit down and listen, as long as he played. It was lovely. I marveled that people could just walk by, barely taking notice of the beauty this man was pouring into the air.
Afterwards, we had a little chat. He too had come alone, and we commended each other, as if we’d been brave enough to cross the Alaskan tundra, rather than just walk around a bunch of decorated homes. We talked music and were kindred spirits who ventured out for our own solo adventures that night, then headed our separate ways. It really was a perfect evening with me enjoying the company of me, and I’m glad I didn’t miss it.
I will call this “Beatitude solum”, which translates to “Blissfully alone.”