Sunday, July 2, 2017

Quiet and Alone


Unlike most people I know, I am completely comfortable being alone. It is not necessarily my preferred state, but it is well within my comfort zone.

It is early Sunday morning in the middle of a four-day holiday weekend. I am sitting alone on my patio soaking in the 72-degree temperature, watching the sunshine/shade line crawl across the courtyard on a slow journey toward the flowers lining the patio railing. Chirping birds punctuate the hum of a nearby air conditioner. The only other sounds are from passing cars, a Harley, the clink of a spoon as it scoops up cereal from a bowl to my mouth and the rustling of paper as I search for "continued on C6" in today's Washington Post.

I've only heard three voices this morning: the friendly greeting from a barking dog, a "good morning" from a neighbor in the fitness room across the street and the voice in my head sounding out a text message from the love of my life, who spent the night in her mother's hospital room.

Most of my waking, non-work hours are spent with said love of my life and I cherish every minute. Balance, however, is the root of who I am and I enjoy the occasional hour or day in the company of only me.

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