“Solitude–what is it like?” you ask.
This solitude?
The kind that greets me with a kiss and asks me to stay awhile.
The kind that listens quietly and intently without agenda.
The kind that brews a pot of tea and wraps me in warm blankets.
How many years of pain does it take to learn, finally
How to welcome, bless, and love the one life we’re given?
No matter… the years are not over yet.
It’s not too late to return to the stillness for which we are made,
To find, at last, solace and home in the company of our own mysteriously beautiful selves.
To discover not emptiness but profound presence–
A longed for companionship with the otherness that is our self.
The Unspeaking Center 