For me, alone time means appreciating yourself as a good enough company.
Solitude occupies that space that breathes life.
Maybe being alone means trying to be comfortable in your own skin.
It’s affording your soul the mental space to think, to consider.
Maybe it gives you the vigor to dabble on the things that matter to you, or to realize those that don’t actually do.
Maybe the peace allows you to choose your battles and filter the noise.
Maybe it makes you realize, more than ever, that you’re a part of this world. And that the earth keeps alluring you to get your feet on the grass, to embrace the wind – to be in constant awe.
Maybe it’s igniting you to pluck up your own string without the orchestra, lost into your own music.
Maybe it’s rekindling intimacy with the small voice in your head, nudging you finally to action, to change.
Maybe it’s telling you to leave your baggage for good to seek what’s ahead.
Maybe it pushes you to break past such a default, reactive life, cocooned in the glowing screen.
Maybe it’s telling you to be your bare, weirdest self.
Maybe, for once, it’s telling you to capsize your life, to switch it back on.
To be genuinely alive, to have the good life we are all yearning for.
Maybe we can consider a moment to be in silence now.
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