On Being Alone

I have always been ok being alone. In fact, when I was first alone after I left my ex husband, it was a relief. Just a relief to have peace, just to know that the world had not tilted on its axis while I slept, that as things were when I went to bed, however messed up they were, they would be the same mess in the morning when I awoke. I relished it.


In the 7 years since, I have been ok with it. I was anxious for my son, when he still lived with his father. Then he moved in with me, and I was no longer alone. A few years later and he spends a lot of time away from home, and still does. With his friends, or girlfriends. I was once again alone a lot. Still it did not bother me. I have friends. I have people I can call, usually can coerce someone into doing something with me.


In the last 6 to 12 months though, I have begun to be sick of being alone. And wanting company other than that of my girlfriends. I am missing, yearning, for a connection with a man that is multi-faceted. Spiritual. Emotional. And physical. I’ve had some false starts. One that was physical with nothing else. One that was, and still is, spiritual, but not likely to advance into the other arenas. A fairly good number that never went anywhere.


So here I sit, 3 days before Christmas, alone. And pissed off about it. And wickedly sad about it. Idk. I am totally willing to be vulnerable. I am willing to say I love you, first. I am willing to make the first call. I am willing to put myself out there, not knowing what the outcome will be. Because how else will I ever become connected to anyone? How else can I have the door open to all the infinite possibilities if I am guarded?


A few years ago, I was at a gong bath meditation, which is something I do on a regular basis. At that particular one, deep into the meditation, I had a vision of a wall. I knew that it was the wall I’d built during my long abusive marriage. It was made of cinderblocks, and every hole in every cinderblock had a note in it, telling why I’d placed that block in the wall. Some slight, some hurt, some cruelty, that I wanted to protect myself from. So I used them to build a wall, consciously, so that I could not be hurt again. That wall had been up for a LONG time. At the gong bath, I realized that it was time to take it down. That it was now keeping people out, keeping life out, keeping me locked in the prison that had been created for me, by me. I wanted out. That night I began to take it down.


To take it down, requires forgiveness. Each insult, each hurt, each slight. With the help of some great teachers like Eckhard Tolle, Wayne Dyer, Marianne Williamson, Liz Gilbert and myriads more, I learned how to forgive. I learned it does not mean that what was done to me was ok. It just means that I no longer allow it to define and control me. That it no longer hurts me, so I can move forward again with my life.


The hardest one to forgive is yourself. I still have a good bit of residual guilt over my son, and not having protected him better. But I’m working on it, it’s getting better. Mostly, because he is growing into such a wonderful, compassionate, man of great character.


So, now….I am ready to invite someone into my life. To share it, to share theirs. To tell my secrets to, and to listen to theirs. Someone to support, to celebrate, to commiserate with. But there’s no one here. I keep saying, I know he’s walking toward me. I believe that. But it doesn’t always make the long nights in my beautiful home easy to pass.


And just so you know, I am grateful, so grateful for my home. For my life. For my son’s life. For all my blessings. I just want someone to share it with. I have so much joy, sometimes I think it’s enough for two.


So, I’m writing this to work through this sadness. I’ve had it on for a few days now, and I’m about as sick of feeling sad, as I am of not having someone in my life.


Maybe, this is part of this life, this incarnation’s lesson. Maybe I am supposed to learn to be happy alone.


Maybe it’s just not time yet. Maybe the Universe has just got something better in mind for me. Maybe it is saying Yes, you can have it just not right now.


I don’t know. I do know that I need to get busy living my life, and stop wanting what is not there now. Why is it that I can be so accepting of what is in the moment all the time, except in this one aspect of life? Why is it when I wake in the night, I find myself either angry or sad that there is no one beside me, keeping the other side of the bed warm? Why can’t I say to myself, “that’s the way it is now. It doesn’t mean it’s that way forever.”


I’m 62. I feel much younger. I am still quite capable of being fully sexual, and actually enjoy that. Yet, here I am, constantly alone.


Time for me to trust in the universe, yet again. Long ago I got a sign that everything would be ok, that it would all turn out ok. And it has, it really has. I need to surrender this to the universe, knowing that when you ask the universe will generally bring you what you want in the fastest way possible. It will come from somewhere I will never expect.


I have to let go of this, send it out to the universe, and get back to living a life that I love. I’ve got jewelry to make, a book to write, cleaning to do, projects and dreams to come up with and work out. And let the mystery man show up when he gets here. If he gets here. Or whatever it is the universe has in mind for me.


Sometimes the work is easy. Sometimes it’s not. Sometimes it should be easy and isn’t. Sometimes we think it shouldn’t be hard but it is. I don’t know what category this is. I just have to follow the path, I just have to go forward knowing that the universe will bring me that which I ask for.

Think I’ll go watch last season’s Downtown Abbey.