The Encounter

The soft, sweet scent of one of the last Sweet Pea flowers in the backyard garden tickled my nose as I inhaled its perfume deeply. The sky above me stretched turquoise in  a tight, smooth canvas. I luxuriated in the caress of the sun's warmth relaxing my face. A few white clouds floated overhead, reminding me of misplaced cotton balls. The silence all around me bounced a familiar echo through the quiet house. I put the house keys down on the kitchen counter and they briefly sounded with the resonance of a chime. It was cool enough now to wear a light sweater on my daily walks with our dog, and the slight early evening chill felt comforting. Plenty of yellow, dry leaves were crunching under my feet as I crossed the lawn to refill the dog's water dish. The solitude I had initially been hesitant about, started to feel more like a chance to get to know a part of myself I had not been around, so to speak, since I was about 14. I think that was about the last time I felt truly comfortable spending time by myself, with myself. After that, the solitude turned into a melancholy loneliness being pretty miserable in a strict Catholic all girl high school. The challenges of being in college abroad as an intellectually well prepared but socially inexperienced and shy teenager only reinforced the sense of alienation and often intense loneliness. My last year in graduate school was very satisfying as I met several of the friends who would become important and remain in my life, some of them through intense correspondence. It was also the year I met my husband of now 30 years. It took me a very long time to find my identity in my marriage, to find my voice. I am so glad to be writing, to have a memoir out on Amazon and a book of poems written in French that are inspired by my friend Driss Ouaouicha, apart from also a publication of poems in English. I keep my blog I started 4 years ago current, and am working on a second publication of poems in French and English. Writing is a solitary occupation, and in my case it has allowed a journey of self discovery, of coming to terms with the past, the now and hope for the future. After going on seven years of confronting my trolls, I am beginning to feel more comfortable with myself, and I am no longer so reluctant to embrace my solitude. It feels in some ways like I am meeting myself for the first time, or at least reintroducing myself to me. And it feels both exciting and a bit unnerving. It feels I have a second chance at defining myself, something that was cut short because my adolescence was simply removed by a very strict father and a mother who was all too glad not to have to acknowledge that she had three daughters threatening to crowd her mirror and her narcissistic obsessions to be the prima ballerina at all times. Feeling comfortable with myself, how I dress, my makeup, my perfume, my choice of purse or shoes, jewelry, on a perhaps silly level, and my thoughts, my dreams and hopes, my will, my strength, are all feeling to be finally mine, not indoctrinated through either one of my parents, although I often remember the lessons of wisdom I learned from my father. To be free of my mother's ghost and negative influences is a great relief. It has been such a long journey back to myself. I may be 59, but I feel new and fresh the way I did when I was a young teenager. I feel a sense of identity and energy , of peace and hope all in one, it feels so good. The challenge of solitude due to all the family loss remains, but I feel confident I can work through it. I certainly no longer feel the need to walk away from it. The inheritance of solitude is a now a part of me.  It  has allowed me to undertake this journey of self discovery, of becoming friends with myself. A long overdue trek into uncharted territory.