One of the things I love about having a blog is the opportunity to get to know other bloggers. I enjoy reading their thoughts and feelings about what they are experiencing in their SL. Sometimes my fellow bloggers write something that validates what I've been feeling or experiencing. And sometimes, not so much. But even then it gives me the chance to open my perspective a little bit and see things from a another stand point.
The other thing I love about blogging are the comments I receive. Some funny, some inspirational, and some not so nice. There have been times when people have used comments as a way to lash out at me, or to make me laugh, or to express their camaraderie....their love, their concern, and their feelings of validation. The frequency of comments comes and goes, like a tide coming and out.
One comment in particular stands out to me. It wasn't so much a comment as it was a quote from a book. The book is titled
A Party of One - The Loners' Manifesto by anneli rufus. The quote was:
When I enter an empty room alone, the door closes behind me with a sweet chime of relief. Every neuron relaxes, and my mind and body feel free, finally, of all constraints and pretensions, of all pressures to please and impress and entertain other people. I may sit down to read and write; I may play music on the stereo or on the guitar; I may wander in circles from corner to corner, watering plants, sorting through paperwork, looking at the colors of the walls. But somehow the whole world seems less urgent, more manageable. Though in social situations I am often the life of the party, it is only when I am alone that I feel fully myself. In the presence of others, I never quite see or taste or understand things all the way. Others may get anxious with the closing of the door, but I get a sense of peace. I feel most comfortable, though not necessarily happiest, being by myself.
-Anneli Rufus
I thanked the commenter and promised I would purchase the book. Which I did. On the day of it's arrival, I flipped through the pages, noted that the picture on the front reminded me of what I envision Ireland looked like and tossed the book on my side of the bed where I intended to read it. That was a few weeks ago.
Today, I picked up the book again. I had been feeling a little weird about myself. Something had begun to make me doubt myself. I think a little self doubt and inward looking is a good thing and helps us be more aware of our short-comings so we can, if we choose, make improvements. But this didn't feel like that. This was more of a searching to figure out why I am like I am. As I lay on my bed, wondering about it all, I happened to glance down and see the sheep on the cover staring up at me. I reached down carefully, so as not to fall out of the bed, and grabbed the cover of the book by the corner, and hoisted myself back on the bed. I leaned back on my mountain of pillows and began to read. The validation I sought was found on the last page of the Introduction. It read:
Being a loner does not, in this so-populous world, guarantee confidence. Maturity. High self-esteem. To this day, I make no claim on maturity. Ours is a path marked with wonders of our own making, but also with barriers, baffles, and border guards, and even land minds. Being one's own friend - sometimes one's only friend - is not always easy.
Thank you, Anneli Rufus for your book. And thank you, commentor, for knowing somehow that I needed to read it.
Til next time...
JJ
