Alone time, what a treat
To be able to sit alone with yourself and enjoy your own company is a skill we’d all be wise to acquire.
We are not without stimuli when we are (temporarily) without other humans. Even when we are alone, we experience all kinds of phenomena. Our thoughts pass our consciousness, making sounds only we can hear, suggestions only we can perceive, and tugging at our deepest personal emotions, begging for us to interact. Being alone allows us to enter into a relationship with the internal landscape of our “selves,” feeling the rising and falling tides of the oceans that are our emotional states. When we’re around others, this same internal phenomena occurs, only the experience is heightened tenfold, as if the humans with whom we interact displace the water of our bodies as if they were swimming inside of us. The ocean waves crash. The birds cry out, desperate for our attention. And still, if we are silent, we can see, hear, and feel all the wonderful things that our working senses allow us to experience.
Sometimes, I imagine watching myself from the perspective of a passerby. If I am sitting on a bench, overlooking the ocean, all the person who walks past me sees is the back of my head. This person lives in his own internal world, taking in the landscape from an upright, walking position, and I am nothing more than a face he passes on his morning walk.
On the most beautiful of days, I feel like I live in somebody else’s painting.
The other day, I sat on a bench, overlooking the ocean. The sky and the sea were just barely touching one another, like new lovers tepidly inching closer to connection.
Both sea and sky wore a light grey color that day, and the clouds in the sky blocked the sun from reflecting on the sea below. South, down the coastline, rain in a nearby county riddled the skyline with long lines, connecting heaven and sea, and a small break of light shone on the horizon.
I am in a painting, I thought. The movement of the surfers, the walkers, and the sitters all slowed into a dance. All of our momentary imperfections combined into a perfect state of being. We were held up by the peace of the moment, the heaven of the present, and I felt I was playing a small role in the painting some cosmic artist. Perhaps that’s all any of us are, really.
We may be nothing more than brushstrokes of another creator. The thoughts that pass us beg for our attention, and perhaps we are the gatekeepers of these thoughts. The ones we allow to pass through us must first pass our judgment tests, and for this reason having a keen sense of awareness at all times is useful.
If I am aware, I can notice when I bring to life a thought and an energy that is destructive. If I pay close attention, I can notice that thought before I give it legs, before I allow myself to be the vehicle by which it becomes life in this world and I can choose to be a vehicle for love, truth, and sincerity. I can choose whether or not I create more love in our world or work to destroy it. The decision is ours to either create love or fear in our realities. “It is our choices…that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities” (J.K. Rowling).
Whether we exist in the artwork of another dimension or not, we can all pay attention to how we serve the moment. We simply have to know where we are, when we are there, and choose to show up in a way that will make for a beautiful painting.
If the painting in which we find ourselves is already full of joy, peace, and otherworldly tranquility, we can join the party. And, if we find ourselves in a painting of chaos, envy, jealousy, and rage, we can either bring a contrasting element of patience and respect to the mix, or we can walk away, hoping to find ourselves wandering the terrains of another artist.
© 2017 Shawna Marie Rodgers
All Rights Reserved.