I've always had a pang of guilt as an adult because I actually enjoy and look forward to time alone. Some of my life's sweetest memories are moments of quiet reflection or simply staring in to space. During those times, I've often found the answers to questions I hadn't yet known to ask, I've come to quiet appreciation of the moment as it is, and perhaps most importantly I've been able to remind myself to be me without artifice or pretension. These sentiments may seem like trivial things to you. To me, they are moments when I seem to be able to stop the swirl of world around me for just a few minutes and make a little more sense of it.

As a dad, a husband, a friend and neighbor though, I've felt that I needed to be fully engaged in those activities and duties during all my waking hours. To be less than engaged felt as if I would miss some grand opportunity. I try to fit more things in my day and run from one activity to another. So, I put others needs before my own most often. Regularly, I end up resenting the very things I'm supposed to be engaged with... Yes, I believe that's irony... Herbert Bayard Swope probably summed it up better than I could:

When I feel myself at lowest ebb, I most often find that I've given so much of myself away that I need time to recharge. Those quiet times are what I need most. How Henry David Thoreau of me!

If you are a regular reader you know that many of my entries are inspired by something I've read. In this instance, it's a recent commentary by Anna Quindlen entitled "Live Alone and Like It." Quindlen's recollections of childhood summers and quiet moments brought back many of my own memories, but also reminded me of the power of aloneness. After reading it, I felt a few less of those guilt pangs too.

Note: This blog's title is a Graham Nash song from his first solo album, Songs for Beginners.