A few months ago I turned a year older and it was admittedly one of my least favorite birthdays. Don’t get me wrong, I have so much to be grateful for; Two beautiful, healthy and well-adjusted kids, a job that makes it possible for me to support my family and still indulge in some of my passions (i.e. travel), I am healthy, with family and friends who love me and so on. But unlike past years, this one was spent alone doing absolutely nothing out of the ordinary. There were no parties, no dinner dates and no trips.
It forced me to do a little introspection and ask myself “when did solitude become loneliness?”. I used to be completely fine with being alone, in fact, there was a time when I looked forward to getting home, taking off my bra, getting in my comfy bed in my comfy clothes, turning on some Bach or Sade and reading, knitting, watching a movie or doing any of the simple things that used to bring me joy.
I was determined to get some pleasure and serenity on my birthday so I took a bite of the cake my kids so lovingly baked me and after putting them to bed, I opened a bottle of good wine and toasted with myself to myself.
When I was nice and relaxed, I grabbed my violin and after several attempts at playing some Bach I knitted 2 more rows on that scarf I have been not-so-diligently working on since last year
And finally, I put on some music from Hilary Hahn who plays Bach a million times better than me, poured myself another glass of wine and soaked for about an hour in a lavender-scented bubble bath.
Having done all of those things, I didn’t get the answer to my question. I still don’t know exactly when or why being alone became lonely for me. Maybe it has to do with getting older, or it just so happened that my birthday fell on one of my down moments or maybe I have been alone too long. Whatever the reason, I am determined to start enjoying my company and that of my kids again. To another year!