“For or done by one person alone; unaccompanied.” — Dictionary.com
It seems I’ve lived Solo for ages again now. It reminds me a bit of those years right after my mother died.
I’m not a child these days.
I am a grown-up. And being Solo seems like a return to my true nature. The Inner Child who was wrought all those decades ago never left me. She’s been in here all long waiting on me to come back to play.
Melding with her again has been one of the greatest gifts of my empty nest, my divorce and every failed relationship I ever had. Because all those circumstances forced me to be alone with myself and sit with her.
I learned there were lessons I could only experience Solo.
I found there were paths I could only take Solo.
I discovered treasured pieces of My Life I could only find Solo.
I became Solo but not lonely.
It completely amazed me that when I stopped trying to fill the emptiness with a something — when I just decided to recognize it and sit with it — this was the moment I shifted into being Solo. And the emptiness evaporated.
I ceased to “be busy”. I ceased to “be available”. I ceased to “be frantic”. I just started to “be Solo”.
And I managed to get to “be peaceful” as a side effect.