All Alone

One common thread through all of humanity is the occasional desire to be alone.  Even the heartiest of party animals desires a moment now and then to collect their thoughts.  For some people, this desire is much more powerful.  They avoid society at large except when absolutely necessary.  In this instance, the desire to be alone seems to become extremely dominant.

I've always felt a little lonely.  Even when in a group of people, I was still by myself.  Out at the club, I could be found in a quiet corner sipping on the one or two drinks I would order all night long.  If I attended an "intimate" party at a friend's apartment, most of my time would be spent looking out the nearest window or conversing with the resident cat.  At the few concerts I could be convinced to go to, everyone else would be standing up and singing their throats raw while I would be quietly sitting in my seat checking my social media feeds.  Honestly, most people didn't even notice my presence or absence in these situations.  I go more to avoid any awkward questions than out of any actual desire to party, dance at a club, or sing along with a band.

This weekend I took a chance to be truly alone with myself for a change.  I packed up some supplies, requested a week off from work, and headed up into the mountains for some camping.  Nobody for miles around.  No cell phone signal to interrupt my thoughts with calls or alerts.  No traffic rushing by outside my window.  Just me and my thoughts.  It was ideal until I woke up with a view different than the one I had fallen asleep with.

Plains roll out before me instead of the mountains.  Small flowers have replaced the old-growth forest.  The blue sky seems the same, just a different shade of blue than I'm used to.  A few puffy clouds drift near the horizons, not close or large enough for me to imagine any interesting forms out of their wispy shapes.

It takes me a minute to realize the complete lack of noise.  No chirping birds.  No insects buzzing by.  No animals growling as they rustle through the underbrush.  Even the wind seems to be particularly silent in the trees.

I have the feeling that I am so alone that even the Earth itself is ignoring me.  For once in my life, I am truly comfortable.  If only there was some way to tell exactly where I am and how I got here in the first place.  I'm less concerned with being able to get home than I am with getting back here to decompress later.

If you had one place to be completely by yourself, how often would you go there and how long would you stay?