This is Your Time

When you are part of a large, loving, extended family, as I am, solitude can sometimes be a pretty hard state to achieve.  

Don’t get me wrong, I love the family gatherings with the laughter, the tears, the arguments, the music, the dancing, the spilt drinks, the chocolate melted on the sofa, the general craziness of getting together with family members from one to ninety one.  I love each and every one of them and I revel in their company, both individually or in a group.  I love the fact that my own children, their other halves and the grandchildren all live within about ten minutes of our house, and I’m happy that they know they can call in at any time - and they do.  To me, that’s what family is all about.  And when family isn’t around then there are friends to fill the space.  Our home has always been an open house.

However, much as I love the company of others, I am also very happy to spend time alone.  In fact, more than happy.  I love it.

My periods of solitude might be few and far between but that just makes them all the more precious.  Sometimes they come about by accident - a little voice calls out, “Bye, grandma,” the front door closes and all is quiet.  I sit in total silence, memories of a frantic afternoon are stored and peace descends.  Like a blanket, it envelopes me, as my mind slows and clears.  This is bliss, the total opposite of the mad few hours we’ve been enjoying, although that, in itself, is a different kind of happiness.  Sometimes my periods of solitude are planned: an hour on the bed, reading, snuggled under the covers; a brisk walk along the prom, just my thoughts to accompany me; an afternoon on the computer, editing photos. 

I’m sure, if I lived alone, with no family or friends, then the solitude that I now enjoy could well become a pain and not a pleasure:  a prison of loneliness.  The ticking of a clock, the drone of the TV, cars on the road outside - these background sounds would only serve to emphasise the fact that I was alone, and not by choice.  Thankfully, solitude is still a treat for me.  As a photographer, time alone with my camera is something I relish.  I become distracted if shooting with someone else.  Much as I love to chat, I find my best shots are those where my eye has been allowed to wander and focus without the distraction of conversation.  My mind will wander too, thoughts of where I’m going, what I’m aiming for, what are the optimum settings, where is the next capture likely to be?  This is my idea of heaven.

And then, home to the husband, a cup of tea, a chat about the day.  And possibly a room full of children....

As I walked along the prom this morning I was thinking about the subject of solitude, when I spotted this man and his dog, away from everyone and everything.  Now, that's solitude.

This is Your Time by Jill Reidy 

Find a quiet place

In or out

It doesn't matter

Add a blanket 

Or a coat if out

Gloves, hat, scarf

Whatever keeps you warm

Check head is clear

Thoughts are flowing

View is restful

No interruptions

Ignore the clock

The screeching of the gulls

You're on your own now

This is your time....

Whilst researching the subject, I came across this quote, and decided it was written specifically for me.  

'Solitude is fine but you need someone to tell that solitude is fine.' 
― Honoré de Balzac

Thanks for reading, Jill