The Art of Solitude

"Language...has created the word "loneliness" to express the pain of being alone. And it has created the word "solitude" to express the glory of being alone." ~ Paul Tillich

I keep having the same dream, over and over again. It isn't profound, it isn't scary or disturbing or even funny. It's just the same, every single time. I take the kids to a playgroup at the park, we meet a group of new moms and kids, and I spend two whole hours having real conversations with other people who, like myself, now have nothing important to talk about except their kids, their homes and their husbands (all good stuff...of course;) That's the dream, that's it.

Don't worry, I find it as sad and pathetic as you do too.

We've lived here for 5 months as of today. Five whole wonderful months in our brand new house with lots of fun new things to do and places to explore. It's been amazing, really, my love and appreciation for the Midwest has been utterly restored. But every once in a while I get this pang of...homesickness, this sudden clenching in my heart, and I really really miss Macon. The kids and I ate lunch today at Chick-Fil-A and at first, I was ok. I ordered our food, we sat down and ate, and then the kids went to the play area and I sat at my table and I felt it. This wave of loneliness washing over me as I looked around and realized that I've never really been this alone before. I've always had my sister, my mom, my friends. In Macon, we likely would have met several friends and the moms would have sat and chatted away while the kids all played together. I sat there, swiping away the tears leaking from the corners of my eyes, and tried to remind myself, like I always do, that if we were still in Macon, things would be different. All the 4 and 5 yr olds would be in all-day school. My best friend went back to work last month, so she wouldn't have been there. Even Ava would have started 2K pre-school three mornings a week. If we were there, I'd be starting over too, in a totally different way.

It helps to keep reminding myself.

This moving business, it's tough on the soul. The older I get, the harder it seems to be to put away my reservations, stick out my hand, put a smile on my face, and try to make a new friend. I watch my children on the playground with envy and awe, as they skip up to a new child, announce their name and age proudly, and then yell to me, "Look, Mom! I made a new friend!" How easy it is for them! When did it stop being so easy for me? When did I start doubting myself and my merits so much?

I will admit though, all in all it's been a great summer. I've been lucky enough to make a few new friends, and for that I truly am thankful. I am looking forward to Aiden starting pre-school here, to maybe meet a few new mom friends in the pick-up line at school. I know that, in time, we'll make a whole new life here. And until then, I am reminding myself that solitude and loneliness are two very different things, and I am grateful that in having one, I can appreciate the other more.