Solitude and connection

Solo walk Oct 2012

I am yearning for space and solitude. Yet this week has given me anything but.
I am an introvert. Someone once explained that the difference between an introvert and an extrovert is where they get their energy. For me, I recharge my batteries, get my best ideas and untangle my knots of emotional complications, quietly, mostly alone, inside my head.

I have read that solitude is the best gift that a creative can give themselves.

In the last week, I have been submersed in people; lots of lovely energised and beautiful people. On the weekend, I spent the time with my oldest friends; the four of us became close friends in boarding school over 40 years ago. Four women living in different towns, living different lives and joined by love and a history of connection.

Then when I returned, my cousin and her husband arrived from England to stay. We have known each other over 50 years. Distance and time compresses when we see each other again.

So there it was, in one week, my only opportunity for solitude was during two four and a half hour drives in the country. Both times, it was just me and my thoughts and so much bubbled to the surface. Ideas dying to blossom.

Strangely, in my world of introversion, the idea I keep bumping into in my quest for creativity is the importance of connection.

When I was about 19, I had an idea that I wanted to write a book of stories about the beautiful connections that I had had with different people. I found "the proposal" with a list of names and possible stories the other day. The book was to be about that moment when you feel you have made an intense contact with another. It was to be a collection of stories about people interacting and feeling connected. Connection and the mystery of how it happens, is still a source of wonderment to me.

In May, this year we were in Zagreb, Croatia. Walking down the street, we saw a sign to "The Museum of Broken Relationships". As Croatia had experienced civil war in the early 90s we assumed that this was a poor translation of a title for a war museum. Imagine our surprise when we found that it was a museum where people submitted items with stories about the pain, grief and disappointment of losing someone they love: there were photos, letters and significant objects, all with stories; from people jilted at the altar, from children separated in refugee camp, from those experiencing the loss of parents and lovers through illness and death.

I am filled with wonder and happiness when I experience strong connection yet it is at times of disconnection, loss and grief that we appreciate what we once had. So much to write about, so much to explore.

So it seems, 

• I need solitude so that I can allow my inspiration to emerge and yet
• I crave connection where my vulnerability and fearfulness can be held and
• I feel so out-of-kilter when I am consumed by my sense of disconnection.

A walk in the sun Oct 2012