Monday, November 18, 2013


As i sit alone in my hermitage-on-the-sunset-deck, overlooking the placid fog-covered ocean and listen to the birds chirp in the palm trees, a few articles have me thinking about my own solitude.

-A life alone

-A death alone

My brother Harry says he knows when i have too much time on my hands by the number of emails he has in his inbox.

He has at least two this morning.

I spend a lot of time alone.

Being in your own head all the time can be both a blessing and a curse.

A blessing when I can take the time to sort through various thoughts; a curse when I am left adrift in anxieties that I know would just go away if I had someone to talk with.

But this morning it is neither.  Just a quiet monday, overlooking the vast blue sea with the rugged frame mountains covered in grey fog.

When I can slow my thoughts and cast off worries of past and future, like Siddhartha under his banyan, my solitude becomes a cloak of blessings that envelope me in gentle peace.

But such peace is always fleeting, and instead I wrestle like Jacob to hold on to such moments.  

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