Riding the waves
There was a time when spending an afternoon, let alone a full day, by myself caused me quite a lot of stress.
I would be restless, in need of something to occupy my bouncing mind, my jumpy emotions. I had a very hard time keeping myself company.
I remember long and very lonely evenings when I was studying at university with only books, a stereo and my own mind to make it through the night. All my friends went home after classes, and the other rooms in my building were occupied by people I didn’t know or care to know. And since there were no shared kitchens or bathrooms there was also no necessity to run into anybody. As much as I liked books and music (and still do), those often weren’t very nice nights. I could feel the walls closing in on me.
Even as I got older and had my own home, a job and a stable relationship, a full day at home without a set task or an errand to run would get me all jittery. I had a hard timing filling those longer stretches of time.
It wasn’t so much the issue of being by myself. As a kid I was much rather up in my room on my own, reading, drawing, writing, than downstairs with the rest of my family. But the point was: they were there. I could go to them if I got bored or lonely. My aloneness was a chosen condition, a positive privacy. It’s easy to be alone if there’s a back-up plan.
But when there’s no one to go to when you get bored or lonely, you’re stuck with yourself. And if you’re not used to your own company, or if you don’t like it very much, ‘alone’ has a tendency to turn into ‘lonely’ — or downright neurotic — very swiftly.
I’m glad to say things have changed a little over the years.
For quite some time now I have enjoyed full days at home far better than I used to. I have learned to listen to myself. Sometimes you don’t have to subdue the beast, but learn to love it.
There’s more flow and less pressure. I make myself a pot of tea. I put on my favorite music. I write my diary, I do some chores, I look out at the ever changing landscape. My mind has stopped racing, my emotions are much calmer. Home really feels like home, now.
Last weekend, I spent two whole days and evenings entirely on my own. My husband was off for two days of recumbent bike racing in Germany, and my son was with a classmate at the sea shore.
I had the house to myself. I ate when I felt like it, read Anne Lamott’s wonderdul Bird by bird, translated my most recent blog post into Dutch, wrote a few mails, gave my old Dutch Wordpress page a face-lift, did a late night tour on my bike to shoot pictures of the full moon… I wasn’t bored for a second, and all was easy and pleasant.
I guess I have finally started to really enjoy my own company. I was home, both within and outside of myself.
All of that said, I do realize that it’s a lot easier to enjoy solitude if it is not a lasting condition, forced upon you by events in your life.
Both my boys (the older kamikaze and the bouncing puppy) came home within a few hours of each other on Sunday. And although I knew I would miss the peace and quiet of my solitary hours almost instantly, I was also very glad to have our little family circle reunite.
Waves of all sorts, I understand, are fine.
I guess the whole point is learning to ride them.
