So this has left me in relative solitude. Beside the two communal meals at our house and the occasional passing conversation, I have found myself in relative solitude.
Now for the record, I’m not one that typically does well being alone. Typically, if I were to come home to an empty apartment, the first thing that I would do would be to turn on the T.V. just to have it play in the background. Even when I take a shower, I would listen to talk radio.
This week however, I have done neither of those things and thus have had to confront the inner discomfort that rings in my ears from being alone.
The first thing that I notice is this feeling that I have to be doing something. There’s this edginess that I sense in my body. An apprehension. I catch myself scanning the room that I occupy at the time to see if there is something that can capture my attention and distract me from boredom.
The second thing I contend with is the constant stream of thoughts that run in and through my mind. Do all people have this? It’s like a stock-ticker of random and unrelated thoughts that constantly run in and out.
Both of these end up producing within me an anxiety that I feel I have to quell with activity.
But what I’m discovering is that rather than thinking of these two things as occupiers or as place keepers within my mind and body but instead to think of them as voids; empty places that crave fulfillment.
So perhaps that need to constantly be busy is my inner need for purpose manifesting itself in anxious activity. Or maybe it’s my call to be creative seeking some kind outlet in the mundane minutiae of my everyday living.
And maybe the flow of thoughts and ideas pouring in and out my head is the hungering of my psyche and soul to be present with where I am at that moment. Maybe it’s my need to be centered in and filled with my identity in God and to be at peace with who I am, when I am and where I am.