A Little Peace

I love my solitude - there, I said it. There are those who believe it is nearly criminal to want to be alone. But I don't want to be alone all the time, just sometimes. It runs in the family. We are a placid bunch I suppose. My brother said that he could sit out back in the yard and be very content, and would not require the company of another human for oh, "about two years." I would not go that far, but he and I are more like-minded than not. That's why today, when I went for my massage and then came home to an empty house I was in bliss. My workdays are quiet in academia this time of year, thus I spoke with few people. I have the computer before me; the emails never quit, but after my massage appointment (no talk during that either, yay) and now to be at home with only the stove beeper going off to let me know my dinner is ready, I have time to think, to just be. Like Anne Morrow Lindbergh stated in Gift From The Sea, we need to spiral inward and go to the stillpoint, in order to refresh and be able to go out to the world again as giving people.