I enjoy privacy –  the comfort of not being watched, judged, or criticized when I don’t want to be.

I enjoy creating in the quiet.

It is a beautiful privilege to be able to live alone. To exist quietly in the shadow of the world. It is not always the case. There are moments when I opt to step into the light. To publicly declare my passion and my purpose. But those moments are facilitated by the time I spend alone.

I can become exhausted interacting with the world. I gravitate towards the life of the recluse.

Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to live in a cave. To exist unknown to the world. It is something I romanticize. I definitely feel gratitude for friendship. I am inspired by beautiful, magnanimous, compassionate beings who make themselves known. But the truth is, I can see myself running away. Into the woods. Into quiet commune with nature.

No agenda. No mission. The simple love and appreciation of life.

When I enter my home and close my door. I revel in the quiet. It is the only place I can let down my guard. It is the safest space I’ll ever know. It is involving no other and because of that it is where I can most comfortably be myself.

I realize that this is not my destiny. At least not at the moment. For the time being I exist in the metropolis, in the big city. I create and perform for the public. The path I have chosen seems so contrary to what I’m expressing that I want.

If I so dearly loved solitude, why pursue the path of the performer?

I believe that I have something to share. I believe that there is value in the ideologies I elaborate on in my artworks.

Sometimes I forget that I’m existing in a bubble, and am reminded just how foreign my ideas are to some people. Those are great reminders that my work means something.

But, I am acknowledging the burn out. I am aware of the importance of solitude. It is a time to recharge. Not impacted by the world. It is where I can regain my composure so I can effectively exist in the world.

The night owl works while the world sleeps. In the darkness I am cultivating my character. This represents the space away from the watching world.

It is not an opportunity to be what I pretend not to be. I feel quite aligned between what I say and do privately and publicly. This is more an acknowledgement of the sanctity of a space which is not subject to interpretation by another.

There is something precious about the quiet.

I hear the voices in my head that want to run from the world. I question whether they are cowardly, or suggestions in my best interest.

Some days I have no desire to leave my room. To participate in phone calls, or voice messages, or social media posts. There were times when I would call these days depression, but today I recognize them as pleas for a return to mental health.

Sometimes I feel so over extended into the public sphere, even as slight as it may actually be, that I crave the quiet. And I am seeing now how healthy it is. There is nothing wrong with taking a break from the world. Sometimes that is the best thing I can do to actually be of service to the world.

The inner world is a refuge. There is no one who will ever know me quite like I know myself.  It is the most important relationship I will ever have.

I don’t often have tears to cry. Even in the deepest sadness that I feel, there are no tears. And that is okay. Sometimes I wish there were – just so I can feel the sensation, the release.

Being alone feels like the time for tears. It is where I am most vulnerable. Where I come closest to my most authentic self. No pretense. No posturing. No fear of judgment.

If I were to disappear for a while that would be okay. That would be a good thing. It would not be a running away, but a returning to my center.

Sometimes I feel so drained by the performance in the public sphere. And rather than disappear for good, I think it will serve me better to honour the desire for privacy. For quiet contemplation.

I’ve been giving myself that gift lately. It is a gift that I am grateful for.