Solitude 

In an effort to stave off my recent lapse with flashbacks, I Googled local parks, and the Littles and I went on an adventure. We found a nice little duck pond with a walking trail and just sort of strolled around for a while enjoying what is likely to be one of our last nice days before the weather completely turns cold this year. 

Little was kind of disappointed we didn’t find a playground, especially after I told her we were going to the park, but she regained her excitement quickly when she saw the ducks. We found a shady bench, parked the Twins in their stroller, and counted the ducks together. It was quite a large flock of 14. After we counted all of them, she hopped down and started collecting rocks along side the path. I guess they had recently redone the trail or something because there was a small section of gravel that had been spray painted neon green. 

We just pulled out her fall wardrobe yesterday, and she was very excited to have pockets in her shirt. She carefully chose two neon green rocks, one for each pocket, and put them in their proper place.


After she had her rocks, she wandered over to the bank of the pond and started talking to the ducks. Quacking and carrying on quite the conversation. We sat there for about thirty minutes, until she began scooting her way closer to the edge of the water and I decided it was time to head home lol. 

As we were getting up to leave I noticed one of those little dedication plaques, half buried there under the freshly fallen leaves. I brushed the leaves away to read what it said, and found this:

“Solitude is a blanket of comforting withdrawal that is needed and welcomed occasionally for that perfect moment of self-centering retreat into the quiet world of indulgence with oneself.”

I don’t know why, but it struck me as an exceptionally profound way to view a life on ones own. Instead of viewing it as being lonely, a retreat, an indulgence with ones self. Then as I stood my pants stuck to the bench, and released with the sudden snap that was someone else’s chewing gum. I had to laugh at the perfect metaphor it provided for my life.
Solitude could be an indulgence if I wasn’t stuck to the emotional residue of the past. That’s all it is. Emotional left overs that I no longer want, but can’t seem to be rid of no matter how hard I try. 

Little asked me what I was laughing at which brought me back to the moment, and we continued our walk around the pond and back to our car. She had a great time, even without the playground she assured me and the Twins were quietly bickering with each other in their stroller. That was my indulgence for the day, and I’d like to think it’s a bit better than solitude.

3 thoughts on “Solitude 

  1. The ironic thing was I saw the picture of her green rock on FB and thought it was old gum, lol! You know God has a sensahuma when you get your analogies for life stuck to your butt.

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