Analysis Paralysis

I strive to be alone much of the time.  Being alone is so easy.  Being alone is not so easy.

It’s according to the day.  And it depends on my own judgment.

There are days when I soar.  I revel in freedom.  The sun shines.  I stride through the crisp air thinking meditative or creative thoughts or any thoughts that sparkle through my mind.  I am invigorated with the prospects of life and every moment of it.

On these days I smile as I throw the clothes in the dryer.  I snap the sheets and survey my smooth bed with joy and contentment.  I read and my imagination runs with the story.  I write wonderful words of wisdom that will soothe the ills of the world.

And on good days my home is filled with pungent smells that swirl around me in anticipation as I slice and dice and stir up wonderful meals.  Even a fruit smoothie takes on the color and flavor of adventure.

And then there are days when I should seek company yet I can’t go out the door.  My sluggish mind urges me to take the first step that will raise my spirits and work toward anything that feels like accomplishment.  My straggling garden beckons me through the window, begging for attention that will bless it in the spring.

But how can I move?

My yoga mat lays ready on the floor.   But first, I must watch that recording of Oprah so that I can delete it and make room for some other wonderful, spiritual, uplifting program.  Or maybe an old recording of “The Chew”?

And I can’t leave my computer?  I am constantly checking for some sort of contact: a “Like” on my last post, a continuation of the conversation with my blogger friend in Germany, a Facebook post that will lift me up.

I keep my phone close.  I want to have a text from my grandson.  He’s been out of touch for too long.  And my ITouch is alight, waiting for the next move from my sister in our battle to “Hang” one another.

What is the decisive factor in this battle?  Is it the sunshine?  Is it some hidden thought that has corrupted my spirit, which cannot release me until it is identified and cast aside? Is it whether I feel my solitude is voluntary or whether it seems enforced my some sinister power?

I don’t know.  I only know that I love being alone…most days.

Xxoo

This post was created for http://visionandverb.com and was originally posted on that site on February 21, 2012.