A SOLITARY LIFE

Many years ago the wife and I were on a plane ride, probably heading back East. The row we picked had 3 seats  across with a middle-aged woman already occupying the window seat. My wife Vivian took the middle seat and I was left to sit on the aisle. (I would always take an aisle seat on flights since, even then, I would have to pee like 40 times a day and I needed quick access to the bathrooms.) Once Vivian was seated comfortably, the woman next to her began a stream of non-stop chatter that lasted the entire flight. Seems she lived alone on a small mountain top, isolated in the woods, with no one to converse with. I believe it was somewhere in Wyoming. With the opportunity now to release all that pent up verbiage that was bottled up inside her, she let it flow non-stop onto my poor wife, like lava erupting out of a mountain. Vivian exclaimed after the flight that her ears were ready to fall off.

But it got me to thinking why a single woman, or anybody for that matter, would choose to live in such lonely isolation. I guessed at the time that there was probably some childhood trauma or abuse involved in her making that decision, but on further reflection, perhaps not. People these days are generally extolled for their extroverted personalities, while introverts are usually regarded as anti-social. But just as extroverts recharge their batteries through inter-action with others, introverts are often more comfortable alone with their own thoughts. Of course no-one is entirely one way or the other. Extroverts do need some alone time while introverts do occasionally mingle with others. But neither life-style choice is inherently good or bad. It just is-for the person exhibiting that type of behavior. In any event, it had me thinking more about this subject, since my personal circumstances have changed so dramatically at the present time.

As I’ve written before, an out-going, glamour filled existence doesn’t necessarily fill the bill. If it did, four of the biggest American pop stars since the end of WWII would not have done themselves in so gracelessly. Neither fame nor fortune, nor tens of millions of adoring fans world-wide, could stop Marilyn Monroe, Elvis Presley, Michael Jackson, and Whitney Houston from ending up at the undertakers abode decades before their time. More recently, Anthony Bourdain, famous celebrity chef and world traveler, hung himself in a Paris hotel room. He seemed to have it all, fame, fortune and world-wide recognition, but just could not cope with the process of daily living. I guess it takes a certain quotient of fortitude to get through each day until we end up on the other side in the next dimension. And for those fearing death, Helen Keller, a person who should have had a keener insight than most, stated that death is merely the process of going from one room to the next.

The comfort that comes with living a solitary life was expressed brilliantly by American writer and philosopher Henry David Thoreau in his opus on Walden Pond. Starting in July 1845, Thoreau lived alone on the shores of Walden Pond, located in Massachusetts, and kept a journal of his solitary experiences witnessing the beauty of nature for over two years. Walden is an exceptionally deep and remarkably clear kettle lake, and it inspired an awareness and respect for the natural environment ethic in Thoreau as shown in his writings. One hundred and eighty years later, Thoreau could be considered the father of today’s environmental movement. Thoreau always believed that living alone on Walden Pond greatly enriched rather than diminished his life. The solitary experience amidst nature was almost beyond description he later confided. Today Walden is visited by over 600,000 tourists annually.

I bring all this up because now, in the final stages of my life, I’m forced to live a solitary existence. As I wrote in my last piece, my dearly beloved wife, partner and best friend for 53 years died of of cancer this past January. So I’m left to rattle around in this big empty house by myself. And it’s not on Walden Pond. Of course, I still have my 12 year old cat, constantly begging for treats, so I guess I’m not entirely alone. But for those of you with religious leanings, do you ever wonder why God created or allows cancer to flourish. Yes, man has performed heinous, dastardly, hideous and evil acts throughout the centuries. But cancer? That’s on God’s watch.

 

 

 

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