Thursday, January 5, 2012
Ripples on my Still Pond
Despite the number of letters received during the holidays, I guess it is still best to start the year with a story.
Sometimes we tend to be consumed by our own loneliness that we settle very deep into our selves. The next thing we know, we are strangers in our selves and will always be looking for the solitude to free us from the harassing noise of the world.
Living alone is a vice. It consumes the desire of an individual to genuinely yearn for someone to be with. At face value, the person used to live alone may be with greatest desires to mingle with others but would soon realize that it is not the case once the noisy crowd closes in.
Such is an experience of a friend who decided to go home for the holidays to somehow break the monotony of life. Go home to the familiarity of the family, the house, the town and even just the feel of being home and convince the self that somewhere there is a home to belong to. A home where there are other people who would reinforce the thought that you are valued and loved. Maybe it has always been there, only that the mind wanders off this fact and gets disillusioned that somehow you are neglected. For we are only human and we periodically need to be reminded of the essentials of life.
Imagine going home seeking the familiarity and the warmth of home. Longing for the warmth of other people. To converse with familiar faces and share old silly anecdotes that never go out of fashion. Just how would you feel if you come home to a home you once knew stuffed with all those strangers that threaten the solace you once thought to find. Right in the heart of your home, the strangers invaded.
Now that vacation you longed for is marred by the presence of strangers who are weak enough to sense that you need some space. Insensitive enough to provide you with the space you need and ugly enough to outweigh the irritation of living with total strangers while keeping a facade of enthusiasm.
Living alone is a bad vice for if it sticks, it corrodes being sociable.
Sometimes we tend to be consumed by our own loneliness that we settle very deep into our selves. The next thing we know, we are strangers in our selves and will always be looking for the solitude to free us from the harassing noise of the world.
Living alone is a vice. It consumes the desire of an individual to genuinely yearn for someone to be with. At face value, the person used to live alone may be with greatest desires to mingle with others but would soon realize that it is not the case once the noisy crowd closes in.
Such is an experience of a friend who decided to go home for the holidays to somehow break the monotony of life. Go home to the familiarity of the family, the house, the town and even just the feel of being home and convince the self that somewhere there is a home to belong to. A home where there are other people who would reinforce the thought that you are valued and loved. Maybe it has always been there, only that the mind wanders off this fact and gets disillusioned that somehow you are neglected. For we are only human and we periodically need to be reminded of the essentials of life.
Imagine going home seeking the familiarity and the warmth of home. Longing for the warmth of other people. To converse with familiar faces and share old silly anecdotes that never go out of fashion. Just how would you feel if you come home to a home you once knew stuffed with all those strangers that threaten the solace you once thought to find. Right in the heart of your home, the strangers invaded.
Now that vacation you longed for is marred by the presence of strangers who are weak enough to sense that you need some space. Insensitive enough to provide you with the space you need and ugly enough to outweigh the irritation of living with total strangers while keeping a facade of enthusiasm.
Living alone is a bad vice for if it sticks, it corrodes being sociable.
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