I May Live in Solitude, But…

Speaking Cacophonies — The Orchestra Before Symphonies

Prompt — Friday: Heavy on solitude

On a Crowded Beach

Have you ever been on a crowded beach, or walked through one and just listened? [I pause to listen from the well of memory.] What did you hear? Were you amidst the throng or away from it? If you were within it, you may have heard snippets of conversations — the individual instruments tuning-up. If you were away from it you may have heard, like I once did in the summer of 1967, a din of voices like the instruments of an orchestra, awaiting the maestro that never came.

Relative Solitude

Driving alone down a busy street, in my house surrounded by neighborhoods, or on that beach on Cape Cod in 1967; where was the solitude? Driving on a busy street? Nope. Alone in my house? Not really (though relatively speaking — yes). On that long stretch of beach, north of the gaggle of beach-goers and away from their din with only the waves crashing on the shore and the out to sea — there was the truest solitude. Or in the forest amongst the Douglas Firs and Redwoods — the peace of silence and solitude.

At Home

I rent a small house. My landlord, a great guy with a big personable persona, and his wife, live behind me. Cars come and go in the driveway beside my place. In California, on the left coast, the custom has been houses built close together in otherwise wide vistas of land divided by fences. I grew-up in New England, the right coast, where the property lines may have been marked by a tree or shrubs if at all. No fences, more space, more feelings of solitude.

After the break with my ex nearly 20 years ago, I have lived alone and I love it. (That’s not to say I haven’t been in a few relationships in the interim.) Though without her I could feel the largess of my landlord’s personality. Fears, frustrations, and grief of a mixed large working class/professionals neighborhood impinging on my solitude until I screened it out. Though I’m always aware of the nuances of emotion they exude, it has been increasingly difficult since 2017 during the threats of fire season. Everyone, myself included, feels the stress.

Spiritual Work

My morning grounding and meditation is deeply peaceful and steeped in the waters of solitude. When I engage in healing work with clients, the prep time is richly rewarding. I consciously detach from the neighborhood milieu and set-up protection parameters for myself and my client.

Since my work with others is trance related, there is a huge flood of energy that sustains me as I assist them with helping themselves. This energy takes me deeply into interdimensional spaces while I work. Afterwards, I am in a deep well of solitude and profound peace.

Sometimes, from this place of peace (after a cleanse from the work) I may travel to the center of the Milky Way Galaxy or visit my favorite orchard in Shambhala where the trees and grasses sing.

I hope you enjoyed these small snapshots into my world of solitude. Thanks for reading.