Return To Silence


What’s the old saying: “Pleasure is 9/10 anticipation”.  Ain’t that the truth! Well, in some cases it certainly seems so anyway.

There are times where we can drum ourselves up into thinking that something will be way better than the reality of what actually happens. Then it can be a let down or a disappointment in some way. Or, at the very least, it can give us a new outlook on our lives, the way we do things or what we may have been thinking about our future.

That’s certainly what happened with the recent visit with my friend. Not that I had built it up into some great expectation. I have known this person for many years, and our relationship has gone through many convolutions over the past. So I knew the potential for the visit to be a certain way (boring, not what I might hope etc.) was very real.
But even when one knows ahead of time that things might not be wonderful, it’s still a bit of a downer when those expectations are filled! I guess as a hopeful individual, one can still think that another person might have changed a bit, or grown, or wants different things at this stage of the game.

In the end though, I’ve learned by now, that in order for people to really change in any way (great or small)–it takes very hard work and concentration, which most folks can’t give or don’t have. And most people either don’t realize or believe they need changing. Maybe they don’t either–it’s only according to someone else’s perception.

So where does that leave things? Well, a visit within tight quarters for almost a week can become uncomfortable and tiresome. For me, as someone used to living alone for many years now, I began to ache for my solitude. My patience and sense of being a good hostess begins to wan. All I really wanted was my space back…  It’s not that I disliked the other person, but I began to see all the little things about them that make me realize why I live alone now.

For years I have gone back and forth in my head about living alone. Will I be OK this way for the long haul? Is there something inadequate with me that makes it hard for me to be around others? Am I safe by myself? Am I truly happy this way? But I see others more and more living as I do and I find I am not so unusual. Many of us have come to this place after years of living with other people. And now we live alone by choice.

As we grow older, it is easy to become isolated, but the need for space and solitude also becomes a treasure. The years given in service to others–kids, spouses, pets, jobs, parents, families–can bring you to a point where the peace of one’s home is a blessing.

Having guests over is not a bad thing by any means, especially when they contribute to the well-being of one’s life and soul. But the return to the quiet when they leave is a sound I am also grateful to hear.

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Do Wishes Come True?


When I had my accident weeks ago everyone kept saying to me: everything happens for a reason. What did they exactly mean? That I stayed alive? That I was meant to smack up my car? That the deer was meant to run off into the wilderness to live happily ever after? It wasn’t quite clear to me what they were getting at except that it made them feel better to say it. But as time has passed, one thing I have realized is that my life has most certainly changed because of the accident. Whether it would have changed anyway without it is anyone’s guess, but those people can now happily look at their catchy cliché and gloat.

I can’t really recall the last time I have wanted something as much as I do now. I think it’s when I wanted to be able to run again. I’d been suffering from many, many years of a strange running ailment. No amounts of doctors, orthodics, massages, PT or you name it, could fix my problem. I would drag myself through these grueling runs with my right leg flopping all around throwing my whole rhythm off, as well as my breathing. My running career collapsed in a matter of years. And I would spend these miles wishing that some miracle would occur and my running would come back.

But be careful what you ask for they say. As it did come back, but only after I discovered I had a mild seizure disorder. The medications I was prescribed inadvertently cured my running problem too! It was the miracle I had been hoping for all those years, but it came with a price. One I was willing to pay.

So now I face another wish: the prospect of a new step in my career. It’s within the field I’ve been in for many years, but it would be a welcome change. My car accident has shifted my universe just enough to give me perspective on my life. Change. And I want this change as much as I wanted the change from my wounded running times back to health. It’s all about well-being. Maybe sometimes it takes a jolt of some sort, either one over a long period of suffering or a sudden one, to shake us up enough onto a path of joy.

It’s again those moments in our lives that make us take pause. Where we have then and now. And we compare and realize that things can be really wonderful if only we wish hard enough. I truly believe we can make things happen and create our own realities. Sometimes I suppose things don’t happen quite the way we expect them too, but they will happen if we believe. Just like Tinkerbell says: believe. Maybe we give up a little something along the way so we can appreciate what we’re asking for just to keep us humble.

I will keep wishing then and hope for the best. And watch for the pitfalls along the way. Also hopefully never do harm while wishing for something. My fingers and toes are crossed this time and I remain hopeful that my time has come.