Then I wouldn't have been able to spend the day alone. Because that one day was the one day of the trip that I was most looking forward to.
I am a solitary person. Some might say introverted. Some might even say anti-social. But really, I'm solitary.
I have no problem being on my own, doing things by myself. Sometimes (okay, often) I'd kind of prefer it.
I love my family, my friends, Hubby. I treasure the time I spend with them. There is absolutely a time and place to be with the people who fill your life.
I think that's probably true for everyone. But for me, the time for solitude is greater, longer, more necessary than the time for being with others.
It doesn't always work out that way. It almost never works out that way. But it would be my preference, in a perfect world.
So that one day of vacation that was just me, my camera, a book, and a whole, big, wide open day? That was like a little bit of Heaven on Earth.
It offered me a chance to reconnect to myself. To stop and remember who I am, way down inside, in the place holds the most important pieces of me. To remember what I was like before the pressing demands of so on and so forth became a constant presence in life. To think that maybe there's a way to bring part of that girl back to the surface.
It offered me a chance to spend very little time speaking and a whole lot of time listening. So I did. I listened to the water. To the wind. To the birds. To my breath. I might have even heard some answers.
And when that day was over, I was happy to see Hubby again. To give him a hug and hear about his day. It was time for us to be together again. Time for the "real world" to begin again. And I do like my real world. A lot.
But I'm so thankful, so grateful, for that one, brief day in which my only companion was solitude.