The Sweetness of Solitude

There is a point in one’s life journey, where one looks at the material makings of their life, based on decisions or lack thereof, and must define themselves for themselves. Asking, how do I feel about myself and my life? Like honestly, when no one is watching am I as happy and satisfied as I perceive to be? 

That moment for me came around 2019. When I felt pulled to analyze the composition of my inner world. Is this what I wanted for myself? Am I the woman I say I am? How close am I to achieving the life I see in my vision? Most importantly, am I doing the right work to get me there? These hard questions came with even harder truths. At that point, I spent more time showboating what I was trying to achieve than actually working towards achieving it. Once Spirit snatched me from the world, it felt like; I had to sit down with all the versions of myself to get on one accord about what our life was and would become. I had no way of knowing how long this process would take, I just kept hacking away at the mildew built up. The things I had glossed over in my infinite practices of self care. It was comforting to know that most of this build up was societal, familial, and that created so much room for me to make it personal; intentional. 

During what would end up being six years of solitude, I molted old skins, confronted beliefs and indoctrinations, broke the levy of shame, societal pressure, and the deeply rooted fear I acquired of being seen trying to accomplish my life on my terms. I had to unearth memories of trauma, pivotal moments of self esteem, and the adult trauma that was my divorce which had finalized sometime in 2019; I think - that whole period was a blur. It was great that Spirit snatched me from the public, this is work I would not recommend anyone do publicly; though it would be quite helpful to normalize it. 

And what was I left with? Loose fragments of clear visions of myself, past, present,and future - all scattered about like puzzle pieces and here I am at the dining room table of my soul, asking myself, how would I like my picture put together? Where does this story go and what role do we play in it? How do we write a new story? Like any puzzle where all the pieces look vaguely similar but are distinct in their difference, you must start trying things together, seeing what fits, what resonates. What starts to form is a more aligned image of your life; made up of actions and practices, and definitions, that you curated one by one for yourself. 

The sweetness of solitude offers an opportunity to live with yourself. Since we are born we are taught and shaped by how we live among and with others. However, when our endtime comes it is ourselves we are left with, replaying the quality of how you lived with you. And what will you have to say? Will you have to ask others to define you best? While I do believe this is valuable in shaping the legacy we leave behind, this in no way answers who we are and what our life meant to the one who lived it. I was tired of living some watered down version of who I wanted to be. I might as well devote my efforts towards achieving the real thing. 

I’m grateful for this six year period I gave myself. To shed, to shape, to move forward, driving the car of my life where I would like it to go instead of riding in the passenger seat while my fear and doubt took turns steering. This next chapter is more public. I’m nervous, and in some parts unprepared, because I have only been with myself for the better part of half a decade. There was something I heard from someone in an interview of which I cannot recall, she said, “enjoy the quiet, the calm before the storm when it is just you with you.” That period doesn’t last forever, but if you’re aware of it you can make the most of it.