I’m beginning to wonder if I’m best-suited to being alone. I value my interactions with loved ones deeply, and yet… I find myself wondering when I can be home again, alone with my thoughts. When I’m not working on projects, hours are passed with me staring at the world outside my home – sitting at my kitchen table, an unfocused gaze on my yard’s wildlife. Sitting on my couch, hands curled around a hot beverage, watching the clouds’ trek across the sky, the wind whispering or shouting in the greenery. This brings me contentment.
The choices I’ve made in my life this year have bought me increasingly more time in solitude. I’m so grateful for it, though I also hope it’s a phase of sorts. That this is a time in which I can best anchor my self, be extraordinarily clear on who I am and what I want, and then with clear vision set about building the next phase of my life.
One of the best pieces of home advice I’ve come upon is to not make any drastic remodeling decisions in the first year in a house. Determining what makes sense in the house is a process that takes time – to understand the flow of the house, how light moves across it at different times of day and in different seasons, to see how you really need it to be in order to make the best decisions.
I feel like I’m in the waiting period right now. How does light move through my life? How do I best structure my life to be a continual exercise in contentment and gratitude? What sacrifices am I willing to make to get what I want? How will I adapt to making space in my life for the people I care about, or for the natural progression of how my life is lived?
These are the questions to answer in solitude.