Take Two: Learning to be Alone

I can just imagine the look of stress on my mom’s face as she receives an email notification that I’ve written another blog on me being alone. Let me quell your fears right away — It’s OK Mom, everything is fine and we have not broken up.

In fact, it’s kind of the opposite. This time around I am learning that there is a new kind of being alone, the kind that you schedule and choose very carefully. The kind that is infinitely more challenging when you’re in a happy, loving relationship in a city full of things to see and places to eat and and friends (!) … did I mention I have those too! It’s kind of well…overwhelming. Both in a very good way (believe me I’m grateful) but also in a how-do-I-balance-all-this-and-still-go-to-the-gym-kind-of-way?!

So here we go with my biggest realization as of late: my time living on Long Island should more accurately be described as my time in isolation, not my time spent alone. I didn’t know that there was a difference until I had something to compare it with, but this is what isolation looked like for me.

Scrolling for hours and hours through social media because I missed all my friends and even randoms I didn’t even really care too much to know how they were doing.

Crying after coming home from a fantastic weekend of visiting people and feeling the heavy void of them not being there.

Being in bed on a Friday night at 9pm because I couldn’t think of anything better to do with my time, warming my heating pad up and calling it my “boyfriend” because it was heavy enough to mimic human contact.

These were some of the down sides, but I’ve also written extensively on the positives — I learned a whole lot about what I do to entertain myself when I am isolated. The list includes but is not limited to:

• Getting tipsy and playing 9 holes of golf by myself
• Going for a long walk at the beach in the winter time
• Learning to dance the tango
• Learning to kick box
• Zumba!
• Taking myself out to restaurants
• Going on a string of ridiculous first dates
• Shopping — lots of shopping

And above all, I did a lot of reflecting. There was a lot of laying around on my yoga mat, deep-breathing through challenges and grappling with feelings of longing for a more active and interesting lifestyle. But don’t get me wrong, I did settle in some. I made a few really important friendships and I quieted myself down from my usual warp-speed pace. And you know what? By the end of it all… I was actually really grateful that I got to have those experiences. And I was also like, really fit. Which was cool.

And so now, looking back it feels almost crazy how quickly I’ve accelerated. I went from 0-60 practically over night. And with 9 months under my belt, I am starting to crave some quiet again and I realize that I have to make that time for myself. That I have to choose it and I have to honor it.

I need to take time to reflect more and to be alone. The alone that I choose for myself. The alone that is the opposite of isolated. The alone that feels so decadent and healthy and re-energizing. The alone that feels so good.

So all of this just to say, there will be more here soon. This is one of my favorite outlets of reflection myself and it’s been a while. But I am back and I have so much to say.

L.

 

 

 

Nomad Pitches Tent in Boston

Approximately one year ago, Nomad was living on Long Island and began to feel that familiar itch – the itch to move, to uproot, to find greener pastures, watering holes and new territories to explore..

Nomad began to crave civilization. Intensely. She wanted to eat in new restaurants and navigate new boulevards. She wanted to find her tribe.

The slow lazy days spent on Long Island were a combined mixture of boredom and quiet stillness. The former has been known to drive Nomad insane, but the latter gave her great pleasure. However, Nomad began to struggle more and more with boredom and loneliness and decided it was time to make moves.

And so she set her sights on a city. A city that she had not before considered, and in fact had actually once shirked – Boston. As with all of Nomad’s previous moves, there was first a calling and then a gestation period before packing up her belongings and her tent and relocating it from one pasture to the next.

This particular gestation period seemed interminable. Work was busy as she prepared for someone to take over her position and students flocked in droves to the campus. In July her heart suffered a breaking open, and it was brutally uncomfortable. But Nomad is well practiced in the art of change, and she understood that preparing to move meant shedding the things that no longer served her so that she could travel light and far.

Nomad wanted  a quick fix and a change of pace to mend her broken heart. But as per usual, she had to sit and wait patiently. It felt like an eternity, but finally her plan to move started to pick up momentum in June. She found a place to pitch her tent – a great little spot in Somerville, an up and coming suburb of Boston. A quiet street, a small, cozy apartment, two lovely roommates- it was perfect. Convenient. Affordable. Good energy.  “I’ll take it,” she said without considering any other options. Only 3 months til she could move in. She didn’t want to wait, but didn’t have a choice.

Nomad was excited for her next steps and, as to be expected, a little nervous, too. While she was certain on having a place to call home, she was uncertain what her source of income would be. She fought that fear until she made herself sick with anxiety. One day she made up her mind to let go and trust – a practice that always serves her well.  Her employer had promised to make it work for her if she could go with the flow. And so that is what she did.

She read on the beach all summer, tanned her skin and sought the healing properties of the salted air and water. She centered herself with dance and resolved to move her body as much as possible. It helped draw September nearer to her.

And then it was finally time. Time to say goodbye to the people she loved on Long Island. This part of moving – the goodbye part – is always significantly hard and sad for Nomad. Her tears were metallic and salty as she hugged the people who had become closest to her. But she carries these people in her story and in her heart.

On her last day on the Island she packed the U-haul with her belongings and set off with her best friend by her side for Boston. He was going to deliver her to her new home before heading back to Long Island, and she was eternally grateful that she didn’t have to say that goodbye to him just yet.

Her excitement outweighed the sadness she felt on leaving. She was anxious to settle in to her new home and to meet a particular man that had peaked her interest in a previous trip to Boston. There was something undeniably different and special about this man and she was excited to find out what.A first date was had as soon as Nomad had unpacked her last box. The best first date she’d ever been on. Needless to say, the two more than hit it off, and Nomad has spent the last four months since she arrived in Boston exploring the city clad in a pair of rose-colored glasses and a very full and happy heart.

She still has yet to learn many things about her new town. She doesn’t know how to get from point A to B without the help of Google Maps. She only has a handful of spots where she frequents for food and drink and has  only just joined a gym. But Nomad is excited to do what she does best — explore the nooks and crannies of her heart and the of the people and places all around her.

Stay tuned for the next chapter in Nomad’s many adventures. This one is sure to be full of excellent people and places.

Happy New Year to you and yours. May it be full of discovery!

Love, Nomad