I just spent the last half hour or more in search of a photo I’d had of a toy immersed in the sand, left behind by a child on a sunny summer day. We’d discovered the adorable scene during a beach walk and I’d snapped a pic. I believe the toy was an astronaut but I could be imagining that outcome because it’d tie in nicely to my “Infinity and Beyond” blog title. Instead, I gravitated toward this pic of many footprints and many paths traversing on a quiet beach which also suits my theme, perhaps more so. I didn’t become terribly frustrated or angry or choose to let the missing photo ruin my day. I also chose not to become frazzled when an ex-family acquaintance this morning challenged a Facebook post of mine regarding news and truth. I have to wonder, “Why couldn’t she be quiet as she’s voiced her dissension toward me before and I’ve told her that we will have to agree to disagree. But I stopped to wonder, “why does she attempt to push my buttons?!” I responded with my quest not to belabor a futile argument and my request for silence was ignored. Thus, after one more attempt to explain how I will not engage, I then fell silent. I do not feel that I caved to her stance; I merely have no desire to engage in an endless debate in which both sides will not relent. This perspective saves me lots of frustration, back-and-forth bickering, and lessens any harsh judgments that may have arisen otherwise. I merely don’t care to hear opinions over and over again that will never change. Simultaneously, I respect that others enjoy the art of debate and can engage with it endlessly.

We’ve existed always during volatile times, whether it affects our close vicinity or is elsewhere in the world. Nowhere on earth at any one given time do animals and humankind experience 24 hours of peace. I accept this truth about life because we’re all different and we all experience stress, joy, grief, loss, connection, and solitude in our own way. I love my solitude so much that at times I wonder if this is a detriment as I approach “old age.” Research says that loneliness is a killer of physical and mental health in the elderly. Of course, not everyone will suffer and wither in solitude. I think of the crone archetype who lives alone and communes with animals and Nature, going about her business and life and helping others when she deems it necessary. Not every day is going to be a great day but, in every day, great things happen. The sun rises and sets and we get another chance to start again. The seasons change and affirm our knowledge that we have the capacity also to make shifts. We celebrate life and we mourn death–a reminder of the fragility and appreciation of our existence. For all of these dynamic attributes and setbacks, I am grateful.

It took about 60 years for me to come to terms with solitude–to cherish it, revel in it, and use it for empowerment, healing, and protection. Solitude taught me to trust my gut instinct, acknowledge and utilize my psychic abilities, to honor my inner warning system, to know when to quit and when to forge ahead, and to know which battles to pick and which deserve my silence. As I’d written about previously, I used to be terrified at the notion of being alone. Despite my propensity for independence and spontaneity, I’d become dependent on the people who sought to stifle my spirit. This lifelong battle has hampered my beliefs in my abilities over the years and I still seek to conquer feelings of inadequacy. My father controlled my finances and life decisions. He’d decided that I’d be a secretary aka learn a trade because he was a devoted union guy. My mother decided I wouldn’t have a social life and curbed my time spent with friends until I got a car, license, and a job. But, even then, the battles were constant. My ex-husband decided that I wouldn’t achieve my dream of becoming a secondary English educator and announced that he was done paying for college after I’d earned an Assoc degree. Obviously, my fate was determined in their rejections. I left home at twenty; I separated from my husband. I could never and still cannot understand why some people attempt to suppress and oppress me when they know I’m spirited and resist being told what to do. I’ve fallen down from these challenge but I never will bow down in total submission.

If I allow these roadblocks to turn me into a miserable, angry, volatile, mean-spirited person, then they’d be successful in hampering my growth. These lifelong stumbling blocks were profound because I didn’t have a wide berth of safe nurturing places to land. But with the help of colleagues, friends, and healing modalities, I learned how to grow beyond the dysfunction and thrive within the chaos. Thus, when people become snarky and refer to me as “Pollyanna” because I believe that we can remain optimistic when life is really hard, I merely shrug my shoulders and walk away in silence. Turning to argue endlessly or to shout out my worth and vitality in the world appears meaningless to me in those instances. Why would I surrender my peace and identity for which I’ve worked long and hard to achieve? It’s a contradiction to the idea of hope and tranquility amid a storm.

Thus, this quiet beach in the photo which has been traversed by many people throughout the day truly symbolizes the juxtaposition of solitude and belonging. There’s comfort in knowing that others enjoy this beautiful setting, are seeking connection to Nature, and long to clear their heads in the salty air. Chaotic thoughts are drowned out by the crashing reverberation of ocean waves. The same ends can be achieved in the woods, a field of grass and flowers, rocky paths up a mountain… you get the picture. Anytime we can find a place in Nature–large or small–we have the opportunity to quiet our minds, listen for inner and spiritual guidance, realize our belonging, and “announcing your place in the family of things,” as Mary Oliver states in her impactful poem, “Wild Geese.”

There’s nothing incorrect in following the paths others have taken as long as our footsteps are our own and we remain open and receptive to changes in direction. Life is meant to be surprising and alarming and also tranquil and predictable. As long as we remember that life isn’t only one thing all of the time, we can avoid the pitfalls of refusing to alleviate emotional pain, holding onto resentment and perpetual anger, and remaining addicted to self-pity. The duality of emotions is natural and normal. Recognizing that life and relationships are tenuous allows us to hone our inner guiding system. When we allow others to be who they are and choose to engage or to step away–temporarily or permanently–, people can be encouraged to figure out their dilemmas without dragging us or everyone else into their personal quandary. Sometimes, silence is the most powerful message one can receive. I know that I’ve heard–loud and strong–the silences directed toward me.

To infinity and beyond, I want to be free to make mistakes, experience triumphs of any size, love and forgive others, sit alone or engage with a crowd, and decide how I’d like to live. My ability to survive and thrive depends on these criteria. Not everyone values or enjoys solitude and that’s just fine. When we know ourselves to the best of our ability and, in turn, learn self-forgiveness, -esteem, -love, the world’s chaos calms down within us and we can appreciate all of life’s beautiful moments. I believe this appreciation keeps us calm in the storm, amid the frustrations and, most importantly, helps us to be kind when dealing with opposition. For me, in this current firestorm of dissension, only kindness matters because its the best way to be kind toward myself and feeds my growth as well as the growth of others. When we all thrive, more will survive. Thank you so much for reading.