As the rhythms in the house change, I find myself alone more than I have in the last few years. There is silence to savor, peace in which I can unwind, time for uninterrupted reading. The animals surround me. The house can be as warm or as cool as I like.
Would I want to live alone? I look back on my life and think of the brief times that I actually have lived alone. I don't remember disliking being alone. But at the time, I was young enough to anticipate finding that one person to share my life, so I suppose I fretted, not appreciating being alone.
People like me probably should not try to share space with others. I'm an introvert. I like quiet. I like to be able to put my hand on an object in the place I last laid it. I like room for creating art if I like, diving into a research project just for fun, and watching my choice of movies or TV. Often, if I've nothing scheduled for the weekend, I don't even leave the house. Sometimes I don't even go outdoors.
But I love my family. And I love our pets. Lately, though, I'm enjoying the gift of solitude. This, I have discovered, is what a person needs so that they can live with others the rest of the time.
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