I like walking home alone.
It’s a bit of a hilly way to go, but the air is always crisp against my cheeks as the wind flutters through my hair. I love to watch the willowy leaves rustle and sway while the sun shines on them just right — a cloud of green speckled with gold. My earbuds are in, and I get to appreciate my music fully and ponder the lyrics. The other day I got really excited over how the writer weaved the words together so well that the song was pure magic. I couldn’t stop gushing about it, and my roommate couldn’t help but laugh.
I like watching sunsets alone.
It never fails to leave me speechless — the giant canvas of soft pink and purple and orange, always changing by the second. Blink and you’ll miss everything. Stare for too long and you’ll feel as if you’ve been sucked into a pastel fever dream. Still, I stare anyway. It lets me get lost and escape for a bit — all that’s left are my thoughts and the sky. Peaceful and calm.
I like going out alone.
I get to walk at my own pace and explore my own way, fully taking everything in — the bad, the mundane, and the good. It reminds me that, even if I’m legally an adult, I am still a kid. I’ve still got tons to learn, but the world is mine to explore. I can fall and get back up again. I’m free to roam, and I’m free to soar. (I went thrifting this past weekend and only realized after queueing in the cashier line that silly me had left my wallet at home. This time, I learned that ApplePay really is a lifesaver — or, at least, a shopping-saver.)
I like sitting under the night sky alone.
There is something about being in the night. Quiet and dark and undisturbed. I love to feel the gentle ocean breeze graze my arms and to watch the stars glimmer and dance — millions and billions of them all out there somewhere. I can be in silence and reflect and cry and laugh and rest.
I can lose my inhibition. I can let my soul sing.
Lydia Kim, one of my dearest and wisest dorm sisters, wrote a poem called “Empty Necessity” in her sophomore year of high school. It goes like this:
Would this world we live in,
Be less of an empty place,
If people learn within
That solitude is something to embrace?
For out of the covers,
We will realize undoubtedly,
If we are with others
Out of choice or necessity.
We will learn to cherish the mirth,
Of every interaction,
And realize the worth
Of genuine benefaction.
I love this poem. It speaks for itself.
I love being in solitude.
It’s something that I’ve finally learned to embrace over the years. Not that I don’t like being with people — because I do. I adore good conversations, hanging out, and connecting with friends just as much if not more. Deep down in my core, I was made to be a people person — to live and to thrive within a community. But this is something else.
In solitude, I can let go.
It sets me free and refreshes my soul. It gives me time to think and reflect and listen and understand. It heals. It allows me to know who I am and to whom I belong. It makes me a better person, a better friend. It enriches my life — again and again.
In solitude, I can lose everything and gain all the more.
I really don’t have much more to say but that you should go try it out if you haven’t already. Trust me, it’ll change your life in ways you’ve never imagined — and you’ll be grateful.
Just come thank Lydia and me later.
