Friday, April 25, 2014

The direction of the eye, so misleading...

It's the end of April and seeds are being sown in the garden, I go down there at sunset and listen to the hum of the neighborhood, and there's girl-time and movie time and coming home to be introverted. The garden is a continual place of centering for me, a continual learning process and a way to feel like I'm doing some good with my time on this earth.

I reread my journal over the last year that I write in every so often and it amazes me to see how wrecked I was that summer four years ago and how even the emotional rollercoaster of not the most healthy relationship wasn't much of anything compared to that, I don't know what means. But I have become profoundly comfortable with solitude, of sleeping alone, of coming home to an empty house in a way I never dreamed I would.

When I see what other people say, how they want someone to complete them, that their life is terrible without that special person, I don't understand that, because no person can do that, meet those emotional needs all the time.  We all have our moments of loneliness, but I am not lacking when it comes to companionship with kindred souls and that's a beautiful thing.

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