Without a Handrail

Life moves so fast in some areas of our lives that it isn’t until we can come to a full stop, that we have any real idea or sense of what is going on around us. For those of us who lead single or solitary lives, it can be a real challenge to stop. For us, to stop is to risk becoming lost between worlds.

Daily life moves like a very fast stream. Each action and reaction is seemingly interwoven. We think on our feet, if we think at all. It is very easy to allow our obligations to blot out how we are really feeling.

Once we depart the fast moving stream of our obligations and enter the quiet space of our inner life, the world is much different. Movement is like that of slow water.

As a single man, living on my own, sometimes I have to really question whether I am really living. The problem is, the inertia of the week is so strong, that the force of last weeks issues often blows past the finish line of the week and continues with it’s unstoppable force straight into the weekend and then THROUGH the weekend, like a locomotive that has derailed and runs uncontrolled to it’s final resting place. My life has been moving so fast for me that the time required for me to decompress is roughly about twice the amount of time I have allotted to accomplish decompression and renewal for the following week.

The trouble is, the speed of my movement away from work is much different than when I am work.

I am not certain of course, but I would imagine that solitary life for others is similar to my own.

Alone, my inner world comes forth. It takes a while for me to find my natural rhythm again. My natural rhythm is timid, and will disappear in the blink of an eye if it feels threatened. It is up to me to coax it out from hiding, and encourage it to sing to me. That takes time.

I tend to “live in my head”, because there really isn’t much externally to keep me FROM that. Life moves much much slower there. There I can actually SEE. There I can actually FEEL.
There I can get a broader viewpoint of the world in which I live.
My home gets messy because my home is primarily my place to BE. Just ....Be. When I am at home, my body resides there, but my Spirit is often elsewhere. It is a cocoon of protection. A place I can become ultimately vulnerable. It’s where I stop, sit on the floor and sit in ultimate silence and feel the earth beneath me. It’s where I can dream. It’s where I can write.

Solitary life is the kind where the simple ring of a phone can shatter the environment with it’s shrill demand. It can be both a lifeline in times of desperation, and an unwanted intruder when I have developed peace.

The phrase, “lose track of time” has a whole new meaning in this world.

Time is measured by how many cups of tea I have made, how many cigarettes I have smoked, how much of the mundane tasks I have accomplished. Time is measured by how fast and how well I can recharge.

Sometimes, I am not able to recharge. I am forced to enter into a new week in a state of mental or emotional exhaustion. This is when I really have to be careful, because this is what can trigger the tidal wave of depression. At times like this, I don’t do a whole lot. I will find a piece of instrumental music, an incomplete musical phrase, that I can loop and I will set it in motion. I will play it nonstop in an effort to find rhythm. My rhythm. It will serve as life support for me until my own rhythm can function again on it’s own. Sometimes this takes a while. I know it is working when I find myself suddenly growing extremely emotional, as the endless repetition functions like a drill, penetrating my core and any blockages that are preventing me from finding my own natural rhythm again. Irritating if I resist it, hypnotic if I allow myself to be seduced by it. Almost a way of creating an illusion of stopped time. One moment, relived over and over except that, with each reiteration, new harmonics become perceivable. Eventually I will begin to hear more than what is playing. Eventually, the pain in my heart will begin to dissipate, and I will find resolution. Peace. Acceptance.

The trouble is, once I have been in this space, it becomes very difficult to exit it’s peaceful state. Modern life is almost a direct contradiction to it’s wave. Entering either world is a task that requires energy, flexibility and a great amount of fortitude.

I don’t know what I expected life to be like when I grew older, but I never expected this. I keep searching for understanding, of both myself, my worlds and others who are in them. For now, I will keep walking, one foot in front of the other, being careful not to lose my balance in this life without a handrail.