I am aware that this post is substantially more ethereal than usual, but, being my blog and all, ha ha, you’re reading it by force!!
As I sit down on my bedroom floor, I come to think how content I am to be sitting here in my house all alone.
I think I am changing a lot this year. I find it interesting that what happens to us, and also our actions in life can all of a sudden propel your very being in a different direction.
I am now a proud propagator of change. Change does not intimidate me, it intrigues me.
What am I learning this year? Well, amongst many other things, probably the most poignant thing I am learning is this:
The art of the enjoyment of being alone
You see, for my whole life up until this point, I have always equated loneliness with sadness. And I always thought that this was a bad thing.
But this all begged the question, if we never allow ourselves to truly experience sincere sadness, how will we ever recognise sublime happiness?
I am quite accustomed to filling my head with grain, with noise. Up until recently, any time I had time to myself, I would go into a manic mental frenzy trying to fill the silent gap in my head with anything but my own thoughts. If the house was empty, I would put music on. If I was alone in the car, within seconds, my hands-free headset would be in my ears, and I’d be talking to a friend. A weekend at home alone was my worst nightmare.
It made me wonder, what is wrong with my own silence? And now I realise that sometimes silence can be the most deafening sound.
Earlier this year, I met a man named Kosta. He was talking about the fact that this year, in two thousand eleven, he believed that it was really important for people to stay grounded.
At the time, I didn’t really understand what he meant. But now I realise, for me at least, being grounded is the action of being as close to ‘in the present’ whilst being fully aware of your surroundings, the past, and dreams for the future all at once.
I usually feel like a bit of a shallow idiot who can’t stand the sound of her own thoughts. But for now, I can feel that this is changing in me.
But let me tell you, actually thinking about something, I mean, really thinking, is quite painful. Because most times, the hardest person to be truly honest with is yourself.
But I also realise, that the more I allow myself to do it, the more I am getting to know Jessica. The stronger and more confident I feel. The more I am loving my body, and am wanting to nourish it properly. The more I am not afraid to let myself feel sadness or contentment or to know what it means to truly miss somebody or to give myself the time and space to work out what I really think about this or that.
The more I enjoy the pleasure of my own company, the more I feel satisfied by the company of others.
Because: I am not afraid.