Sweet Sunday Solitude

I woke up this morning, this Sunday morning, to winter sunshine and soft realization. In those first moments of this new day, I realized that I do not like to be alone. I like to be with Husband and the girls and my family and my friends. I like to sit in coffee shops with strangers. I like to be plugged into a world of conversation. I like noise and people and chaos.

I have never eaten dinner alone in a restaurant. I have never gone on vacation alone. I have never gone to a movie all by myself. I crave company. Chatter. Companionship.

And yet. Even when I am surrounded, in a thicket of life and laughter, I often feel alone. Very alone. This odd solitude engulfs me when I least expect it, taking me away into my own little world. This also happens at predictable times. On Sundays. On Sundays, I am lined with a filmy of kind melancholy. I feel distant and pensive. I feel nostalgic for childhood donuts and simpler times. I recall the dread of anticipating a new week of school or work. Sundays are for me damper days. Less silly, less spirited, less shiny.

But Sundays are also sweet. Yes, I am realizing that solitude can be sweet. That fog can be humbling. That gray can be cozy.

On Sundays, I am a bit smaller. I cuddle my man. I need my girls. I curl up on the couch. Surrounded and alone. A wise friend once told me that that there are flavors of loneliness. And I am realizing that some flavors are not so bad.

__________________________________

When do you feel most alone? Do you enjoy silence and solitude? Do you like Sundays? What is the difference between loneliness and solitude?