Traveling to "No-Man's-Land" today. A place where there are no people--a silent place without sounds. A place where I can be alone. A place where no one will interrupt me as I read, or tell me to do something, or expect something of me. A place where I do not have to defend myself or my intentions or words, a place where I do not have to speak because there is no one there to talk to.
A place where there are only birds, insects, and plants. A meadow maybe, a bit of wild land with a rushing river, a long cornfield where it is just me and miles and miles of husks of corn. A library before hours, a place where there are books but no one in the library except me with thousands of books, no people.
A street with no cars. A sidewalk before sunrise when no one except me is walking on it. The joy of being alone is not lonely, it is noiseless and peaceful. Peace with just me and me. Me and God and no other. It is a stream of water with fish but no boats, no yachts, nothing other than me and the water. Not a public beach or a public building, a haven of just me with me. I love aloneness, it is healing and strength-building. How does that song go? "Alone at last, naturally!"
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