I’m sitting in my big brown chair beside the window. My tea sits on the window ledge. I’m surrounded by books, Christmas cards and mail.
The last few days have been a sumptuous solitude.
“Language… has created the word ‘loneliness’ to express the pain of being alone. And it has created the word ‘solitude’ to express the glory of being alone.” — Paul Tillich
Remember in my last post when I said relaxing felt like a cold?
Well, it appears that a cold also feels like a cold.
Over the last few days, every toxin that I’ve held in my body has released itself in the form of some unholy mucus that has spewed out of my nose. I must have blown my nose ten thousand times. Days later, my nose is raw and my sinuses feel like they’ve been wrung out like an overused dish towel.
But I feel empty and that’s a good thing.
While I’ve been detoxing, I’ve been reading Life is Verb: 37 days to wake up, be mindful and live intentionally by Patti Digh.
In it, she tells charming little stories about how to live each day with a little more gusto.
The back cover of the book reads:
“The death of her stepfather just 37 days after being diagnosed with cancer woke Patti Digh up, scared her, and made her examine her own life. She realized that living your best life doesn’t mean ditching your job and sailing around the world—it means living each individual, glorious, simple day with more intention.”
Funny. I didn’t read that until after I ditched my job and intend to zip around the world.
But before I go, I’m going to sit in my window, sip my tea and watch the rain.