My past self wouldn’t be able to comprehend such a thing because there was a time when I was lonely, terribly lonely, but I look forward to my alone time now.
In fact, if I don’t get enough of it, I notice it. And I get cranky.
It’s been a challenge sometimes these past couple of years. I spent a lot of time stuck in the same place with my partner. As a family we underwent an extensive lockdown. So everything was cramped and entangled in an unprecedented way. And it wasn’t until we got vaccinated and the numbers abated in our area (temporarily) that we got out more.
And still, we find ourselves on a slower pace than before. We mask often and continue to be thoughtful about our choices. (Particularly when spikes hit and with the delta variant.)
But even during lockdown, I found ways to carve out some time here and there. Even in a mostly open layout apartment there are a few doors. There are walks in the park during times when it’s mostly empty. Drives in the car. Ways to get out momentarily — even if you aren’t going anywhere and don’t want to run into other people. Yes, even in the city.
It wasn’t always easy — finding these pockets of solitude, and failing that, creating them. But I managed. And managed. And managed.
Now that my life is approaching some kind of new-normal and I have activities that oddly resemble a social life again, I take that ability with me. The ability to make solitude in the midst of companionship — to foster alone time when I desperately need it. During busy times. Even while around others.
I look forward to my alone time now… and thankfully I can make it materialize when the world seems to be too much.