I remember criss-crossing the country in my green Toyota pickup, affectionately named “The Albatross” by my girlfriend. During endless days driving long highways, we’d listen to CD’s of new age speculations about the end of the Mayan calendar. With my love seated by my side, my hand resting on her thigh, 2012 felt so far away. Back then, maybe I thought the world would actually end, but I was comforted by the idea of having my companion with me to watch it all go down.
Now it’s December 20, 2012, and things have changed. Today don’t feel like the world will end, though optimistic anticipation simmers inside of me, hoping that something will miraculously and instantaneously change. The woman I loved, who comforted me and filled me with a sense of security, is now who-knows-where doing who-knows-what. Meanwhile I sit alone, watching the rain drop on a dormant forest.
Being alone on Solstice and even Christmas fills me with a strange sort of pride. It makes me feel stoic and self-sufficient; tough and purpose driven. “Who needs the commercialism of the holidays and the distraction of family! I’m doing soul refining work here!” It’s probably just a ploy to keep from looking at the sadness of the situation.
But I’ve come to look at my situation like so: This is a period of tremendous learning. Learning about myself, and learning about my art. In only one year I have grown so much. I’m a fuller person now, and a much better artist. What you pay for in loneliness, you are repaid for in skill. And the skills you gain now, that power, will be with you for the rest of your life… while loneliness likely will not.
Another ploy? Maybe. But it’s working.
Happy Solstice. I hope you are well.