The Beauty of Solitude
Every morning before he leaves for work, my husband kisses me good-bye and asks, “are you going to be okay by yourself?”
And I realize why he worries about me. I’m by nature gregarious and outgoing.
For more than a decade, I have been part of a vibrant elementary school environment. Noise, laughter, chatter and talking had been a part of my life. I had enjoyed interacting with little ones as well as dedicated teachers. There had been celebrations, luncheons and staff parties to attend.
But for the past few months I have been leading another kind of life, one of solitude. Writing is a lonely business but I’m never alone. Right now my universe is populated by a sweet Indian girl and the man of her dreams, a village barber with a deadly razor and a poor teenager who is lost between two worlds. And of course there is the welcoming hearth of My Mother’s Kitchen (the sequel).
It is hard to explain to non-writers that each character is as real to me as my own children. Luckily, my characters are sweet (maybe a bit stubborn and impulsive) and rarely homicidal or dark. I love this alternate universe. So after my husband leaves, I welcome the quiet to go visit my beloved characters and their worlds. Here I am queen of the castle, the goddess of life and death and I enjoy every minute of it.
Harsh reality creeps in late in the afternoon when there are breakfast dishes still to be done, beds to be made and dinner to be prepared. Walking the dog is another chance to escape into my private universe.
So when my husband poses his morning question, I try to hide my glee behind my coffee cup and say with a forlorn look, “yes, I’ll be fine.”
Actually, I’m more than fine. I’m a writer and solitude is bliss.