being alone

a piece from my summer holidays:

I'm a big fan of alone time. Which is somewhat different than quiet time. But they can overlap on occassion.


I just had a good dose of it. I rented a very private cottage on Mclean's Lake just outside of Sharbot's Lake steps away from the Trans Canada Trail. It didn't have electricity but had a bbq, propane stove and bar fridge, and a couple of solar powered lights and running water. It had a beautiful balcony overlooking the lake where I would eat my breakfast (until it got too hot) and sometimes eat dinner or knit (until it got too dark). My other time was spent on the dock - luckily with a breeze to soften the sun's rays and sometimes overwhelming heat. I watched beavers, loons, sun fish, muskrats and a variety of birds with never-ending fascination. I was surrounded by books and my knitting to feed my soul and brain, water to keep me hydrated, sun screen to prevent me from burning to a crisp as I usually do and binoculars to improve my failing eyesight. Of course, the dog was not far off, sleeping in bits of shade or peering into the bushes hoping to spot a chipmunk to chase. For a treat, I'd sometimes enjoy a glass of white wine as the sun ducked rounded the horizon and I knew it was close to dinner time.

Around 7 pm ish I would venture back up the stairs and inside to determine what oh what to eat tonight. The place had a very tiny bar fridge...sad considering I had so many fresh veggies that didn't keep as well in my coolers.


I'd light the lamps around 8:00 ish and get ready for bed. By 9 I was snuggled under the covers, oil lamp beside me, camping head lamp on as I read in bed. Beautiful sight. The loons would start to call; I'd hear critters outside sniffing around; the feeling of comfort would settle into my bones and soul.


As much as I like my alone time, I have to admit that the first couple of days were a little unsettling. New noises startled me...my imagination certainly can run wild (it was days after a suspected multiple killer was found breaking into cottages in quebec, so it was easy to go there) but I soon got used to the creaks of the building, my surroundings, the wind in the trees, the rain on the roof.

Being by water especially gives me a sense of peace and comfort. Maybe it's all those summers going to camp (northern ontario term for cottage) but I feel the most grounded when I'm there. It's familiar, in a very good way. Even when living in the city, I have found myself unconsciously moving closer to the waterways.

Being alone lets me re-energize. It allows me moments to reflect on my life - the good and the bad. Come to terms with things and create a path forward. I don't understand how other people don't need or want this kind of time. I often wonder where they find the time to reflect. Or if they do. And if they don't, what does that mean? When I'm antsy or am avoiding being still, it's a powerful signal to me that something is not quiet right. And that's all the more reason to be still.

It's not always easy. It's not always fun. But it is certainly worthwhile to take up the challenge.

For me, this was a perfect holiday.