Living Alone in the Time of Pandemic

My mother was sparing in her advice, but one thing she told me over and over again was that I needed to learn how to live alone.  And now, here I am, in my first year of retirement, a 67-year-old woman, living alone on sixty acres, in a house with no neighbors in sight, during a pandemic. Some things have changed because of my new normal.  I notice things and my senses are more attuned. Perhaps I am embracing more deeply my spiritual side.  There is a stillness here, but it is never quiet. I can go for days without hearing my own voice, but I am surrounded by bird songs, rustlings in the woods, and the music of the springtime frogs and insects. I often talk to my animals: two cats, one dog, ten chickens, and bees. They answer me back in their own way.  My visual sense has also increased. I am comforted by the clouds crossing the blue sky.  The dew shimmers like diamonds reflecting the morning light. The green of the leaves and grasses holds me captive in silent contemplation. I know that I find renewal and energy in nature.   

My sense of self has also become more acute.  I am aware of my need for connection in life, not just during this pandemic. Sometimes I search for that by scrolling through my facebook feed to see what others are doing or by reading online newspapers incessantly.  I want to know that I matter and wonder what I can do to make things better. I am delighted when a letter arrives from a former student, a text pops up from a friend, or a Sunday family phone call is placed. If a glimmer of loneliness arises, I walk outside and look at all the wonders that surround and accompany me.  I comfort myself inside with sewing and writing projects.  I have read so many books. And sometimes I hop in the car for a ride into the city to see the world.

I have an occasional visitor who will join me for lawn chair conversations, and I have a friend and her husband who come and help me clear brush.  We have worked out a routine where we can stay apart while working outdoors and keep each other company.  They love being in the woods, and I have plenty of forest to share.  

I enjoy the solitude of living by myself.  I feel connected to the beauty that surrounds me and get excited by the blooming of springtime. I am never truly alone. I watch the male turkeys put on shows for the hens.  Deer venture into the yard.  I have been taming a feral cat who now lets me pet him.  The summer vegetable garden is almost planted. 

I feel calm and full and settled.   I have arrived at a new place in life and feel at home in my world.  Thank you, Mom.  I think I was able to learn that lesson.