Rarely do I travel alone or spend much time alone. For a few months, it has been a rarity to even have a few hours alone. Currently alone in the country, I am noticing my thoughts and feelings as they come and go. With no distraction of interaction with other people there is awareness of them and how few thoughts there are, and thank goodness for that.
There is wide disparity in the thoughts - relief about being alone, the desire to achieve tasks, a desire to let go of tasks and just sit; looking around me and noticing beauty, alternating with seeing things to be done; things that are 'wrong'/need fixing/replacing/sorting/washing/weeding/pruning. I'm very aware that when my mind is unsettled I notice the things that are not quite right, whereas with a settled mind I am much more willing to let those things go, if I do pay any attention to them at all.
There have been moments of peace as the silence of the day becomes longer and deeper. There has been the feeling of a sense of responsibility to return home tomorrow, and yet an inner wisdom that that is too short of a journey into silence.
I have a quiet curiosity to know what would become of my thoughts if I were alone for, say, seven days. I find myself wondering if I might experience more peace, more inner understanding, more creativity; perhaps a restlessness, or a desire for company?
Earlier I went out into the garden with the notion to water the plants that will one day make up a lush and high hedge on one perimeter of the garden. The temptation to pull a weed here or there is always with me in the garden but today, nonsensically, I pulled a type of weed that I know is tricky. I thought I had full control of my hand as I did it, but there was a back pull against the weed and the nail of my little finger on my left hand partially cracked.
Immediately, I felt woozy, cross with myself; disoriented. I found some super glue and ensured that the crack was well sealed, a strategy I have been shown by the nail technician.. Yes, it was unfortunate, I assured myself silently, but it wasn't the end of the world so long as I was particularly careful. (She repairs a broken nail rather than making for a new one.)
It occurred to me after this happened that I am not a free agent, even alone. I can water the garden and maybe prune a little. But, the big tasks are not for me, never have been for me and never will be for me. The 'training' of my place is too well entrenched; has taken place over too long a period of time.
Over the summer my sister-in-law was here and she commented on what a girl our dog is. She's a girly sort of female dog and I responded that she and I were the same - on the far end of the female scale. We both crave attention. We both know the limits of our nature; what we can and can't do; what comes naturally and what is unnatural. I've simply grown used to my husband's sorting of big projects himself; of me making suggestions as to what I'd like done and he making it happen, when and if he can.
In fact, I can do far more when my husband is here because it feels more comfortable to act as the 'worker' knowing that someone else is orchestrating the overall job. We fall naturally into these roles, most of the time - he the one that determines the overall job, and me choosing the easier, more manageable components of that overarching project. Day by day, he's responsible for the functioning of some tasks and I have the responsibility of other tasks (which don't matter to him, or he has no desire to do) and that sorts itself out all right, by and large.
With natural limitations, it's easy enough to fill my time with simple enough tasks. But, should I stay here a week, or more, I'd have no other choice, I suspect, but to take some responsibility for my actions - not in the sense of cutting wood or using equipment that is beyond my skill base, but getting on with being all of me. That is, with no distractions, what else would I do here but get on with my writing project; meditate a little, walk a little...but generating pages would ultimately be the way it would go, in good time.
The reason I say this is that, as I see it, there needs to be in a person's life, the space in one's mind to sit and ponder alone. There needs to be time with no thoughts and there needs to be time with one's own mind without the interruption of others' thoughts imposing. It hadn't occurred to me as much as it does right now that my head often can't be free to wander where it will; that I spend much of my time pushing away my own thoughts, inspirations and desires so that they don't impede with the needs of the other people in my life. It hadn't even really occurred to me in any serious way that I had a right to such time and space on my own; to dream, to think, to conjure; to create; to have a still and settled mind.
I'd like to think that this could be the start of a new chapter in my life; to live, for several days at a time on my own alone in this house and alone with my own mind. I knew I had to get away and only 36 hours later I feel so much more settled within myself. It's interesting to me that my grandmother spoke often of wanting to live in a lighthouse and the idea was that no-one bothers people if they live in a lighthouse.
It's been emotionally painful over the last several weeks to have been impeded in my bid for silence, for privacy, for thinking time and kinky time. It's been a markedly challenging month for me as I've reckoned with an ongoing restless hive of activity within my own home such that I eventually sought refuge elsewhere.
Some people simply must get away from the hustle and bustle of the world for a time, free to roam in their own heads, or even to, metaphorically, cut off their head for a time. Quietening the mind is easily achieved in a quiet place all on one's own. I must remember to do this on a regular basis. I must remember to do this for me.
There is wide disparity in the thoughts - relief about being alone, the desire to achieve tasks, a desire to let go of tasks and just sit; looking around me and noticing beauty, alternating with seeing things to be done; things that are 'wrong'/need fixing/replacing/sorting/washing/weeding/pruning. I'm very aware that when my mind is unsettled I notice the things that are not quite right, whereas with a settled mind I am much more willing to let those things go, if I do pay any attention to them at all.
There have been moments of peace as the silence of the day becomes longer and deeper. There has been the feeling of a sense of responsibility to return home tomorrow, and yet an inner wisdom that that is too short of a journey into silence.
I have a quiet curiosity to know what would become of my thoughts if I were alone for, say, seven days. I find myself wondering if I might experience more peace, more inner understanding, more creativity; perhaps a restlessness, or a desire for company?
Earlier I went out into the garden with the notion to water the plants that will one day make up a lush and high hedge on one perimeter of the garden. The temptation to pull a weed here or there is always with me in the garden but today, nonsensically, I pulled a type of weed that I know is tricky. I thought I had full control of my hand as I did it, but there was a back pull against the weed and the nail of my little finger on my left hand partially cracked.
Immediately, I felt woozy, cross with myself; disoriented. I found some super glue and ensured that the crack was well sealed, a strategy I have been shown by the nail technician.. Yes, it was unfortunate, I assured myself silently, but it wasn't the end of the world so long as I was particularly careful. (She repairs a broken nail rather than making for a new one.)
It occurred to me after this happened that I am not a free agent, even alone. I can water the garden and maybe prune a little. But, the big tasks are not for me, never have been for me and never will be for me. The 'training' of my place is too well entrenched; has taken place over too long a period of time.
Over the summer my sister-in-law was here and she commented on what a girl our dog is. She's a girly sort of female dog and I responded that she and I were the same - on the far end of the female scale. We both crave attention. We both know the limits of our nature; what we can and can't do; what comes naturally and what is unnatural. I've simply grown used to my husband's sorting of big projects himself; of me making suggestions as to what I'd like done and he making it happen, when and if he can.
In fact, I can do far more when my husband is here because it feels more comfortable to act as the 'worker' knowing that someone else is orchestrating the overall job. We fall naturally into these roles, most of the time - he the one that determines the overall job, and me choosing the easier, more manageable components of that overarching project. Day by day, he's responsible for the functioning of some tasks and I have the responsibility of other tasks (which don't matter to him, or he has no desire to do) and that sorts itself out all right, by and large.
With natural limitations, it's easy enough to fill my time with simple enough tasks. But, should I stay here a week, or more, I'd have no other choice, I suspect, but to take some responsibility for my actions - not in the sense of cutting wood or using equipment that is beyond my skill base, but getting on with being all of me. That is, with no distractions, what else would I do here but get on with my writing project; meditate a little, walk a little...but generating pages would ultimately be the way it would go, in good time.
The reason I say this is that, as I see it, there needs to be in a person's life, the space in one's mind to sit and ponder alone. There needs to be time with no thoughts and there needs to be time with one's own mind without the interruption of others' thoughts imposing. It hadn't occurred to me as much as it does right now that my head often can't be free to wander where it will; that I spend much of my time pushing away my own thoughts, inspirations and desires so that they don't impede with the needs of the other people in my life. It hadn't even really occurred to me in any serious way that I had a right to such time and space on my own; to dream, to think, to conjure; to create; to have a still and settled mind.
I'd like to think that this could be the start of a new chapter in my life; to live, for several days at a time on my own alone in this house and alone with my own mind. I knew I had to get away and only 36 hours later I feel so much more settled within myself. It's interesting to me that my grandmother spoke often of wanting to live in a lighthouse and the idea was that no-one bothers people if they live in a lighthouse.
It's been emotionally painful over the last several weeks to have been impeded in my bid for silence, for privacy, for thinking time and kinky time. It's been a markedly challenging month for me as I've reckoned with an ongoing restless hive of activity within my own home such that I eventually sought refuge elsewhere.
Some people simply must get away from the hustle and bustle of the world for a time, free to roam in their own heads, or even to, metaphorically, cut off their head for a time. Quietening the mind is easily achieved in a quiet place all on one's own. I must remember to do this on a regular basis. I must remember to do this for me.
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