Solitude

Just recently, I was having a random discussion with a complete stranger in the subway about the state of being alone. He has been living in Toronto by himself for about a year since he moved from his home country. I happened to be in one of my silly moods and started sharing with him some of the most hilarious, unexpected experiences of my life and how he had to be there to really know what I am talking about. It was his response that really got me thinking - "If I was there, you wouldn't have noticed those moments". I asked him to clarify what he meant to ensure he isn't flirting (:P). He said, sometimes we pay attention to little things only when we are by ourselves. Perhaps, he was right. Or not.

But that is when it clicked to me that a part of me that would find happiness in the most minute, random things is gone missing. Everything I shared with this stranger happened years ago. Most of the experiences I had shared with him were all prior to the year 2008. It's as if in my mind, I've divided my life into two halves - before and after that year. In fact, It's almost as if everytime I have to tell people an interesting story, I refer to the times prior to 2008. It's me who has made that distinction not realizing that life doesn't work that way. It doesn't work in parts or sections. There is never really a prologue, chapter 1, chapter 2, or the end in life. One just needs to pick up the best pieces, carry them over from one phase to the next and make the best out of them. I need to work on erasing these distinctions that I have created in my own mind.

Having said that, I am trying to recall the last couple of months of my life and cannot think up of a lot of things that made me truly laugh. You know the kind of laugh you can feel in your bones. I know I have stopped observing. I know I have stopped paying attention to little things and little moments. This scares me a lot. And I know this has happened because my state of solitude, in which I had always taken refuge in, is breaking apart, running off the rails and starting to feel like a grinding loneliness. And I know this has been happening for long. Loneliness is a monster. It creeps on to you and you never know when it breaks apart your sense of solitude and takes over. You know it's happening when you begin to search for handles to hold on to, when your friendships reach a point of dependency, when attachment to wordly things become so strong that you can't find one minute of peace without these temporary things, and when you want more than you actually need. It is a scary state to be able to not see what you have and see that which you don't.
Nowhere can one find a quieter or more untroubled retreat than in his own soul.