Thursday, March 24, 2011

the new morning

Spring has arrived, in rain and angled sunshine breaking through. I keep my ears tuned to the natural work when I remember to; the birds have started calling to each other Every day I see birds carrying twigs and bits and pieces that are meant for nests. Flowers are opening their faces. The crows swoop louder, I can hear their wings when they pass over me, rustling like tissue. I love this season. Not that our winters are anything violent but I appreciate the birthing season, newness, the green, and songs.

Thinking a lot these days on solitude. My attitude towards solitude is healthy but sometimes can be perceived as selfish. I'm at the age where most of my friends are coupled up, getting married, moving in, having babies. I understand it happens, I understand it will only continue to happen. I don't require companionship, even if I do enjoy it when with the right person. I've been thinking about my life in terms of my solitude and my chosen isolation. I have very few friends, I don't see this as negative. I try to only surround myself with people who will enhance my life. I'm a snob, I'm okay with that. I'm not lonely, though for a long time I thought I was because I held on to the illusion that being around people was good for me. I tire easily of trite conversation, so much of what people talk about and are interested in doesn't interest me. I'd rather be alone, contemplating, writing.

I've been wanting to dance. I haven't danced in a long time. I'm picky about dancing. The greatest dancing, in my opinion, is celebratory, at weddings, parties, those little joyous confirmations of human connectivity. Ha! The isolationist wants to dace to celebrate human connectivity. So it goes. I am human and brilliant in my inconsistency.



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