Sunday is football day for my husband. Fortunately for me, he has a group of friends who like to go to a local restaurant to watch the game. I don’t go, mainly because I don’t quite understand football, and I am, quite honestly, a fair-weather fan.
Recently on one of those Sunday afternoons, I found myself alone in the house, savoring the quiet—no TV, no demands on me to be converse or be aware of another person’s needs. I could do exactly what I felt like doing. At first I began my usual internal dialogue: you need to read that book, check emails, pay bills, clean the bedroom, and straighten up the closet.
Suddenly I stopped fretting. I listened to the quiet, savoring the peace. Then I realized that I could do anything I pleased with the day—I had to answer to no one but myself. What a liberating feeling that was!
Instead of listening to the fretful litany that still played in my head, I sauntered out to the lanai and read the Sunday newspaper. It felt like being in heaven.
Later when my husband returned home, I was happy to break the quiet of my day.
Looking back on that afternoon, I came to realize that those times when I am alone are rare. And those alone moments have become very precious. They give me an opportunity to relax in a way I don’t otherwise and to think and dream.
Before I stopped working, I had a lot of alone time—driving back and forth to work, staying after school to correct papers and prepare for the next day. Sometimes I was able to use that time to think, but usually it was spent in frantic activity.
But now the moments of solitude in my life are much more intense. I no longer have to worry about tomorrow’s lessons, tests and paper work that is due. Instead, those unstructured times are mine to use as I choose. They have become very precious to me, a time to delight in. Happily, I have opportunities every week to spend time alone.
Solitude is a gift. It is up to each of us to find those moments in our lives to savor the quiet, to allow ourselves to reflect, to hope and perhaps even to dream.
When my children were young I remember the feeling of craving and sometimes having solitude. Those were times to cherish-times when all four children went off with Dad. They would urge me to come along but I would claim work had to be done. When they had gone I would cherish the silence…
I remember my Dad taking all of us on picnics int the summer without my Mom and feeling sorry for her because she was being left home. Now I know–she must have loved those day!
Yes now you know.
OK you can thank me now for your solitude….
Thank you, thank you, thank you!!! I owe you big time!!
So true Kathy. Solitude is a gift and a blessing. When I am driving now I don’t turn on the radio. I prefer to pray and think of where I am in my life. It is also a time that I reflect on the many blessings God has given me.
Melanie
I almost miss that drive to school–it was my quiet time.
I used to wait for the quiet moments when the house was full of family activity and now there is no family noise! I miss it greatly and wish I could go back to the “”noisy” days!
Family noise is joyous noise!
Hi Kathy,
I used to long for solitude when I had a busy family life, When I was a child my Dad taught me about solitude on our hunting and fishing trips. Sitting quietly in a boat reflecting on life and the beauty God had created, taught me to treasure those moments. Walking through crisp frosty fields and watching the dogs work and even the sweet quiet in the car on the ride. I learned to like myself back then and it carried me through my entire life.
Thanks,Pat . I enjoyed reading your reflection. What nice memories you evoke!