Choosing Solitude

I am no big fan of waking up before dawn (or for waking up before noon for that matter), but it can definitely have it's rewards. As my alarm clock's grating tone jolted me into consciousness my first thoughts were, well ... shall we say less than warm and cuddly. Soon though, after a splash of warm water on my face, the shock of waking at four am quickly gave way to the anticipation of seeing our solar system's stellar anchor makes his six twenty-four am curtain call.

It had been so long since I had been alone out in the woods or the swamp, that I had forgotten how good it feels and how much it can nourish the soul. The joy I felt as I pointed myself toward the trail and began to walk, soon made the shrill, early morning revely worth enduring.

Only a short time into my “walk-a-bout”, distant yet familiar feelings began to emerge. There is something primal about being alone with nature. Instincts surface. Senses sharpen. Suddenly I could see, hear, and smell again. It was as if a cloak had been lifted or pipe unclogged. Suddenly a lizard scurrying through the leaves sounded as loud as a passing car would sound back in “normal” life. The usually faint, if at all noticeable, smell of Cypress was overwhelming. I could hear four to six different kinds of bird songs at any one time. I could see the world around me teeming with multitudes of flying, crawling, hopping, scurrying, and slithering creatures.

Each of these was seemingly totally engulfed in it's own little universe, and as far as I know, failing to see the big picture that I was taking in – in much the same way that I am totally immersed in my own microcosm and do not see God's grand scheme. As I focused on one little critter, I found that I was drawn into it's tiny world – in much the same way that I suppose God chooses to focus in on each of us, and understands, and in some way becomes a part of, our little existence. How great a Creator that can see the grand scale, and the end from the beginning, and yet can, and indeed has, come down to our level to see things from our vantage point.

Hour after hour I silently hiked through the picturesque South Louisiana scenery with the thought of uttering a sound never entering my mind. Here, with no one to hear them, any words I would have spoken would have seemed oddly out of place and unnecessary. It would have seemed almost irreverent – as if I were breaking some unspoken vow of silence.

I know that I have mentioned before in my writing, how beneficial solitude can be. It truly can, when done correctly and properly appreciated, refresh and invigorate the soul. The solitude that I experienced this day was in no way related to the occasional loneliness that I have also complained of from time to time. Maybe the difference and the satisfaction is in the fact that I could easily have had company on this excursion. Indeed, the very next day I did choose to indulge in a little companionship for the day's adventure and enjoyed that as well. But this day, I consciously chose solitude.

Having the freedom to choose to be alone or to choose to invite others along is a good feeling. Having grown as a person enough to appreciate one as well as the other is also a good feeling. Having overcome both my one-time desire to become a hermit and my one-time need to have someone around, and finally finding a good, healthy balance, may be the best feeling of all.