Peaceable Man Files #66: The Virtues of Solitude

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Random musings on my vagabond existence in the Endless Mountains of Pennsylvania and wherever else life takes me.

Rachael is away with her girlfriends for their annual Fall trip to the beach, and so I’ve spent the past five days by myself at the mountain house with only the two dogs as company.

The weather has been lovely. I mowed the lawn and the walking paths. I swept out the garage. I put away some things for the winter.

I went fishing. I read books. I listened to Classical music. I wrote.

I wrote, and wrote, and wrote.

But mostly, I just took long walks around the property with the dogs. I stopped to check out the falling leaves. I picked wildflowers. I took deep breaths of the crisp, cool air.

I did my best over the past five days to stay away from my devices, and I just used the time to be in communion with the trees. The thing about trees is that they are not constantly chattering and chirping. They do not seek to pull us away into outrage and distraction the way our digital devices do.

In that space, I can focus. I can reflect. I can get to know myself and my own mind. I can allow the thoughts and memories to come to me unimpeded like clouds in the sky.

My buddy came up on Saturday to do some hunting on the property. Aside from him, I saw and spoke to no one except for the kid at the service station who filled up my gas can.

Ah, the quiet, how I crave the quiet. People ask me if I mind being alone for five days straight, and I tell them, Heck no! I love it.

I get my need for solitude from my father, who was a loner at heart. He put on a good face at events and parties, but in his heart of hearts, he always just wanted to be home at the farm working out in his vegetable garden.

He was perfectly happy to stay at home while our mother went with her kids and grandkids to the shore for a week. “I’m good company,” he would jokingly say.

I feel the same way. I am good company. :)

It is when I am alone that I think most about my father. I can feel his blood stirring inside of me as I walk the fields. I feel his love of the country. I feel his need to step away into Nature to replenish his spirit when it has been depleted by the cares and stresses of life.

But like my father, I know this retreat into solitude is temporary. In a couple of hours, I will drive back to Harleysville, to the cozy warmth of home and family. I look forward to it, just as I know my father looked forward to my mother coming back home from her trips.

Too much solitude, like too much company, is not good for the soul. Human beings are social animals. We need society, just not too much of it. It’s all about balance—something I fear is sorely missing in today’s digital, device-filled world.

No man is an island, but we all need an island to retreat to on occasion where we can refill our spirit. Some need that island more than others. I am one of those.

Now it is time to pack up and go home. Back to civilization, to people, to Rachael. We will watch some football. Have dinner. Talk, get caught up.

I will go back with a cup refilled.