
Marianne Moore said, "The cure for loneliness is solitude." Solitude opens the door to an inner mélangerie of helpers, guides, advisors and invisible friends. Something is always arising, appearing, emerging, "out of thin air," "out of the blue," "from nowhere," at exactly the right time in exactly the right way to lead us into a new field of exploration/investigation/contemplation/ realization/comprehension/awakening/ enlightenment/etc. Hermits have their own inner circle to accompany them along life's way. Learning to listen, to tune in, to be open and accessible to that which dwells in the interface between worlds is one of the tasks of solitary examination-- leading to the discovery that the silence is alive with more than words can say. In order to balance the relationship between inner and outer reality, it helps to be grounded in this world of concrete and steel by responsibilities and duties that require us to "Be here now!" And to have a few trusted friends/family members to talk with about what cannot be talked about. Successful solitaries I have known had gardens and pets day jobs orders of the day joys and delights things they loved and looked forward to, and were very well-rounded and extremely interesting to talk with on levels far beyond average conversation. They were busy with their life and loved being alive, and they were careful to avoid noise/complexity/drama throughout their day every day. And, they had their own ways of seeing/thinking about life and living in the world of ordinary, apparent, reality. Rather than being disconnected from that world, their solitude enabled and deepened their association with it, so that they became--without intending it-- bridges of life to life, and were "transparent to transcendence," for those who were open and able to receive what they had to offer. Being "a breath of fresh air" in the deepest sense of the phrase.
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Boneyard beach is a perfect analogy for this productive solitary flourishing.
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