I love rainy days. I’m a writer, for fuck’s sake. Who the hell needs a beautiful day to make you feel like a freak supreme for staying indoors. I don’t swim, garden, play sports including croquet. I take walks, that’s about it. And if I didn’t have a dog, I would hardly do that. I’m not interested in balance, in self-care, in yoga, meditation, or anything vegan. I want to type and go to movies, preferably alone. Being alone feels good. It’s relaxing. It’s the quieting of the unquiet mind, the portal to a long slide, it’s the crawlspace beneath the stairs, and a fortress of crumbling cinder blocks completely covered with moss.
Do you crave being alone?
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Oh God, yes, and I feel guilty as hell about it. I’m the widowed parent of a young adult with autism, and getting an hour or two of undisturbed time to write is a rarity. It’s a gorgeous day where I am and I’ve spent most of it enjoying the clickety-click of my fingers on the laptop, but I promised an excursion outside in half an hour. I’ve learned to write with divided attention, carrying on a stop-start conversation or half-listening as my young adult plays music, sings, laughs and waits patiently until all my attention can go back in her direction. Twenty eight minutes left.
I too crave being alone. I am 89 years old, a writer, and working on my third book. I’ve been writing most of my life. It makes me feel good, as does being alone. Too many distractions out there take me away from the thing I love the most.
I too love being alone. I am not a writer but love to read and do my work.
Glad I am not alone in that!
Like I crave rocky road and whipped cream in a soup bowl. Like I crave new age on my Kindle and HuffPost on my IPhone. Alone is my med.
Being alone is good. Being alone under sail is wonderful, even when the weather isn’t.
Yes.
Yes. And truly alone, out in the woods far removed enough that the faint sound of a distant car will make me bundle up my gear and keep walking deeper into the forest
My friend and I were talking about getting more involved in our community to counteract this unjust administration, and she said, “All I really want to do is hike and write.” Struck a chord with me for sure.
I agree. The current administration is hell-bent on destroying the natural world as well as profiting from politics and cronyism in any way it can. A walk in the woods brings intimately close all we stand to lose. I’ve attended rallies and sent out numerous postcards to elected officials, but I don’t know what good it does; President Bursting Diaper is only out for himself and has too many followers enabling him to throw whatever tantrum suits his mood.
And so the walks in the woods and writing about what’s important are more vital – to me – than ever.
“Do you crave being alone?”
I’ve never thought of it as a craving. For me, it’s something of a preference. Or more precisely, what I prefer is to control my interactions with people so that I have a lot of time alone. I’m a writer, for fuck’s sake. I can’t do the work if I’m not alone with it.
Odd thing about us writers — we engage in an action which is profoundly about communication, yet we have to be alone to do it and we prefer to be alone so we can.
I’ve been craving a new post to this blog. Very glad to see that the Usual Suspects are back, with thought-provoking replies. While there is much to savor in being alone, I’m willing to admit that I have missed everyone.
Well, hello there, Karen. Did Trump make any misleading claims about the hurricane hitting down around your way?
The sun offends — especially in Florida where I happen to hang out nine months of the year — with its glare. Bring on the rain! Gentle or torrential — drops that glaze a leaf or wallop the asphalt, the harder the better. Steel skies suit me… no race to get things done. Even if I don’t write, there is always the intention.The rain is my guilty indulgence.
so good to have you back (as one loner to another) 😉
“It’s the quieting of the unquiet mind.” Yes, indeed. I love my family, but …those quiet moments can = bliss.
“Now I Will Learn To Be Alone.” Bliss & Blissocity. “I’m Swimming In Pools Of Mercury/Making Sense Of The 21st Century.” JC Was Spot On That Disc, In 1998!!! Now That It Isn’t Too Soon To Ask Him For The Words Carved On His Tomb, I Love The Epitaph: When The Soul Out Grows The Body Both Are Called Home. Died 9/11’09, Like Too Many NYers. I’ll Write His Name: Jim Carroll American Poet & Lyricist. Semper Fi, Sean St. X.
“I want to see mountains again, Gandalf, mountains, and then find somewhere where I can rest. In peace and quiet, without a lot of relatives prying around, and a string of confounded visitors hanging on the bell. I might find somewhere where I can finish my book.”