Solitude

I was desperate for that feeling of solitude, an intense need for being completely surrounded by nature. I went to Colorado to visit a friend in Pagosa Springs. I got what I needed.

There are stages of solitude and I experienced each one on this trip. First there is an ache for silence, the need to be separated from everyone, everything, to think and imagine without interruption.

When you finally achieve what you sought for so long, there’s a feeling like hitting a brick wall. The abrupt silence is unnerving. You feel yourself awake, aware and yet it’s a bit detached and awkward.

I drove through the gritty streets of Denver, feeling a bit lost. Honestly, I was lost.

You are overwhelming to yourself, there’s just you and miles of empty road. You watch the world like an outsider, everyone is involved, together, connected and you are detached.

After that initial awkwardness and separation, there is this feeling of amazing freedom. My senses aware of all my surroundings, my excitement of the summit of Pikes Peak looming in the distance, a realization, I am alone and am in love being alone.

Music sounds better, memories seem clearer, you start to realize this beautiful life you have left and it feels as much melancholy as liberation and freedom. The silence brings out ideas, disrupts words caught in the stream of day to day.

Colors and images seem brighter, things make sense, after hours of reveling in the excitement of just being,  you realize the people you miss. A change takes place, you start noticing people together, couples, families and you feel a bit absent, no one to share ideas with.

There’s a lack of voices, of ears to hear your thoughts, of eyes to capture inflection and suddenly you long for interaction. After hours of driving, enjoying the amazing country and the hum of the highway, I arrived at my friends house-immersed in the sounds of family, of kids playing, of what’s for dinner and where are we going, I got exactly what I needed.