Am I becoming reclusive? I spend a lot of time alone. And I don’t mind. I consider calling a friend to come over or go do something, and so often I stop myself. Not wanting someone intruding on me. At least lately. I don’t understand this sudden change in me.

I’ve always been extroverted. Love having people around. Love deep conversation. Love my friends. It’s why I was not afraid to move somewhere far away where I knew only 2 people, an old friend and my sister. I knew that I had always made friends easily, and I have. But lately, I find myself keeping to myself.

Perhaps I have given too much of myself, maybe I feel spread thin. I don’t know. I miss my son. At times I really miss my old life. But I love my new life. It’s just that lately, I don’t want to take a walk with someone else. I want to walk by myself, along the waterfront, sorting out my thoughts and emotions. Trying to figure out what it is that I really want, that brings me joy, and passion.

Writing is the first answer. Not the only one, but the first one. It brings me so much peace, to put my thoughts in a form where I can see them. I cannot seem to work them out without putting them on the page. I was up again, last night in the middle of the night, writing away. Because thoughts were there that were screaming at me for release. Compelling thoughts. And things I don’t want to publish, I don’t want them to be public knowledge. I need to keep and honor some things only in my heart. We all do.

This morning I have to get some groceries. Coffee, cream, toilet paper, some salad makings. I had to force myself to be kind enough to ask my friend who has no car of her own if she wants to go with me. I’m glad I did. I have wished someone was here to just talk with, someone I knew well. I want to rest in the arms of a close friend. This friend I called, well, she is a good friend. She can become argumentative though, and I hope that doesn’t happen today because I am way too tired to deal with it.

What I really want is someone who could take a nap with me, just lay down and make me feel safe….a man, no doubt, but just to rest my weary head against someone who I knew would not hurt me. It has been decades since I had that peace. And even when I had it, it was temporary.

When I lived with my son, I was content enough, to have him around. He was there. He would listen to me if he realized I really needed to be heard. He could see and understand me without a whole lot of communication. He read my body language. It wasn’t like having a significant other, but it eased the fact that I didn’t have one, or that the man I’d chosen had let me down, again.

I don’t want to be a recluse. I want to be involved in life, with passion, with love. I don’t want to become isolated, yet that’s what I’ve been doing lately to some degree. I’ll show up where I’m expected, but I just want to be alone most of the time.

I guess, when I look at it from the more objective perspective of reading it on the page, that I am sitting with some things. I don’t really know what they are, or why they are affecting me this way. But like a teacher who used to facilitate my meditation group each week said, “You don’t have to excavate. You don’t have to dig up your past. You just have to honor that you feel the way you feel.”

I guess I’m honoring myself, by allowing myself to feel things that are uncomfortable right now, but are evasive in origin. I guess that I want to do this in private, until I don’t need to anymore. So, if my blogging is more sparse, that’s why. I’m not saying it will be, but it was yesterday. And then the things that came out were direct from my soul. Today, this comes from the same place. I am confused, but willing. Reticent, but full of words. I suppose at some point it will spill back out and the clouds will dissipate.

Love and light.