I often ponder and am always attempting to find balance between solitude and communion. The older I get, the more I lean toward a solitary life. It is difficult for some folks to understand the difference between solitude and loneliness and those same folks who lean more toward a social lifestyle don’t seem to believe it possible that building a relationship with a place, the trees, the waterways, the wildlife might also be an important sort of communion. Perhaps if we all took sabbaticals now and then from industry and human collectives (and our phones) we’d be less inclined to hurt the planet and each other. 

I’ve been contemplating the reclusive life as an antidote to what’s currently ailing us humans. Being a reclusive homebody isn’t about rejecting society so much as it is an attempt to, in the words of Trappist monk Thomas Merton, “transcend it”. I believe slowing down and becoming connected/attuned to natural rhythms can be beneficial to us as individuals and as a community, even if only for short periods of time. I’m finding it useful to explore what Merton refers to as “the deceptive fictions and inadequate symbols which tend to take the place of genuine social unity.”

I’m a slow pilgrim, journeying and exploring each inch of my tiny patch, my beloved wild Thicket, my home with the same curiosity, courage and love for mystery that a great adventurous explorer might explore mountains and seas. It’s about scale and perspective. I’m also a mother so I’m always thinking about connections and separations and responsibilities to someone besides myself. 

I believe there is much needed exploration and understanding of our inner worlds right now. I, for one, have grown weary of our chaotic contemporary culture.