Enjoying every sandwich
and learning how to love being alone
My friend Lisa’s son, Joseph, came home from school one afternoon as a young lad and reported that he “just wasn’t that jolly of a guy.”
I have felt like Joseph for a lot of my life. Just not that jolly of a guy. I can feel joy, and I am the actual happiest morning person that I know, but my enthusiasm tends to fade as the world sets in. I usually go to bed with less satisfaction than with which I woke. It’s as if I get worn down, disappointed.
But I’ve realized I deserve better than that. And I realize I’m in control of it. And the thing is, I know I have a lot of jolly in me. I remember it. I see it in photos of myself from when I was three or four. I feel it when I forget to be self-conscious about what someone might think of me or worried about what might happen next. I see it in my face when my anxiety eases. I hear it in the belly laughter that I can still laugh over the most ridiculous things. I feel it in my body when I get excited about seeing someone and having a conversation. I’ve been waking up in the mornings lately with something pressing on my mind, and that’s finding that joy and having that fun that I know I’m capable of, even as I simultaneously seek solitude because that’s what I need to do the work I need to do.
So, today I want to celebrate the magnificence of the every day, of finding flow, and of the delight of finding joy and fun while still being alone. I want to be honest about this — there are times when I spend periods of time alone with John Henry during which I long for another person to be with me — I can feel so invisible — it’s a very specific kind of loneliness that comes with living with someone who can’t converse with you. The best of it is a deeply peaceful feeling — one of knowing the deep understanding that he and I have and the way we’ve figured out how to be together in a parallel yet still uniquely connected way. But the worst of it is that sometimes I feel like a ghost. I don’t get the typical kind of witness to my existence that most relationships provide. The reflection of and validation of my experience is left up to me to do for the most part, and that can make a person feel crazy if it goes on for too long. I talk to John Henry a lot, but I also know I talk to myself just as much. John Henry is perceptive — he often knows when to put an arm around me or give me that magic smile of his, but the truth is, I do get lonely sometimes when it’s just us. And that’s perfectly fine, because it is what is and I’m not asking to trade my life for anyone else’s, no not at all. But being honest about it takes the shame out of it for me.
I know that isolation is not my friend. However — I know that solitude is! Particularly right now, when I am in this period of digging. H. was here with us for several days but had to return to his work, so I spent Tuesday seeking a rebalance and getting used to spending my days with myself as my only compass — I connected with some other parents that are here for this camp, I had lunch with a new friend in Aspen, and then I briefly retreated — I worked on some new paintings for the shop and did some writing on the characters I’ve told y’all a little bit about.
The working title of the new writing project is ‘X.”
I had another reiki session the other day at the same spa at which I had major revelations last year. Though I didn’t go in expecting a similar experience, and didn’t have one, I did have a wonderful session and am grateful for a few things that came through. They included: The very clear message that I am completing a cycle that I began last year, that my third eye chakra is purple, my throat chakra is blue, and my solar plexus chakra was clear/bright, transparent gold. I also saw myself being a worker bee, always being busy taking care of something, and I received a strong energy to work on changing that in my everyday life — to not work so hard to try to make perfection out of chaos. To be okay with letting some things be.
What did the chakra colors mean? Well, my research tells me that those colors are as they are supposed to be. That made me feel so good! My overall feeling was that I am on track. That doesn’t mean that I’m never in pain, that I never mess up and behave like I know I’m not supposed to, that I’m not affected by my issues, but it does mean I’m aware and I’m developing some tools to deal with myself so that I can engage with the world and those I love the way I want to.
I guess what I’m trying to say today is that I’m wholly alive. I smile, I laugh, I cry, I marvel at this gorgeous planet, at my incredible son and our experience together, at my challenging, rewarding, and LOVE-filled marriage, at my sweet and gentle silver fox of a husband and our incredible life together, at the collection of sweet souls I know, at the utter magic and unbelievable grief we humans have to feel, and that I’ve been shown so many things so far on this journey. My life has been and continues to be so full.
Y’all are part of that too. Thank you.
Wherever you are today and whether you’re alone or not — I hope for your contentment. I am grateful to be in mine today. I like learning how to want to actually be in my life. Right in the center of it. Not behind, not ahead, but right here, and knowing that whatever that feels like, good or bad, passes like water. I am hurtling forward by learning how to be still. Flowing around it all.
Peace. Love.
Allison
PS — I know there have been some orders in the shop — I will mail those out as soon as I get home this weekend. Sorry for the delay! And thank you for supporting my artwork.
Warren Zevon figured it out in the end
Enjoy every sandwich one of my favorite memories from Warren Zevon thank you Alison for reminding me of him