A Fabric Reflection by Jeanette Mayo

When I read that the topic for Sunday’s message about Togethering was going to be solitude, my spirit leaped with joy. I got this! Finally, a theme for which I’m an expert! Sign me up!

As a deep introvert (don’t call me shy!) and highly sensitive person (yes, that’s a genuine, innate way of being in the world, not a derogatory label – look up psychologist Elaine Aron), I’ve always embraced aloneness. Add growing up as an only child—in a dysfunctional, isolated and sometimes abusive family situation—to the mix, and it’s no wonder I prefer books and nature to people. I’ll be the one at a party curled up with the cat, if I’m even there at all. Even nature isn’t big enough sometimes; I’m the one at the park wishing the other people would find somewhere else to be outdoors. Personality + inborn wiring + trauma = a strong need to be by myself. No learning curve for me here; being by myself is easy, and I don’t need physical presence to feel connection. Recently I came across the phrase “I’m not antisocial; I’m pro-solitude” on social media, thrilled to find a mission statement for folks like me!

Yet when I heard Melissa say “More than being by yourself, solitude is being WITH yourself,” a huge aha moment overwhelmed me. Those words articulated something I have long known experientially but had not yet clarified, and I realized how little of my time is actually spent WITH myself. Is that why, even though I live alone and work remotely (long before the pandemic), I find myself craving even more time alone? Try explaining that to people who want you to spend time with them!

Life is goodbye, life is hello. huge hollow tree stump by a little lake in lakewoods cemetary, mpls. photo by jeanette Mayo.

A quick inner survey confirms most of my solitary time is spent on work, task management, self-care maintenance, some friendship maintenance, Zoom meetings, distraction via social media or Netflix binging; we all know the drill. Even my beloved hobbies can feel rote sometimes. Yet I know EXACTLY what being with myself feels like. It is intentional. Spacious. Soft. Sacred. It might involve a favorite book, a new poem, a creative pursuit, a mindful walk outdoors. It might involve choosing music to coax out my grief. It’s like holding my own hand, making myself a cup of tea, treating myself with compassion and interest instead of my usual judgment and dismissal. And although I feel most connected to myself in nature, I believe “withness” doesn’t require wilderness, since not all of us have the physical stamina or other resources to remove ourselves to that extent. Sure it’s easier to experience solitude apart from routine life, but nature is present even in the most urban environment. Any place, anything, anyone can become sacred if we say “hello, welcome”.

Solitude is one of those words that instantly calms both my body and mind when I contemplate it. Same with words like ease, surrender, allow, release. There’s a gentleness and intention to these words; an openness, a yes-ness, a willingness. I don’t even need to identify a willingness for what. No striving, no accomplishing, just being, simply companioning myself, filling my own longing, creating my own holy encounter.