Alone but not lonely

I love company and I love solitude.  I went tramping with my son on the Tuesday after Christmas. I enjoyed the time. We went around the tops of the hills at the back of Dunedin. In the process we often walked in silence. (well to be truthful it was often me in my old age puffing along noisily while Phil just wandered up hills effortlessly) But there were times when we had good conversation.  I appreciated that. We talked about his work situation, his plans for the future and things of interest in the scenery around us. When he was an older teenager I did not get much out of him except “whatever!” or “probably”. Now he is much older and I really enjoy that he wants to go tramping with me and is happy to chat when we do. (I sometimes think it is hard on teenagers having a minister for a father)

But at one stage on the tramp I thought “I must come back and do this track by myself some time! I would really get to enjoy it!”  Then I questioned that statement. “Aren’t you enjoying it now?” Of course I was enjoying it! I enjoyed the company, but missed my solitude?

For seven years I have had a running/walking friend who has exercised with me on Sunday afternoons. I really enjoy the company. I get to let off steam about stuff. I appreciate hearing about a different life and work experience.  I enjoy my friend’s personality, we laugh, listen and sometimes philosophise.  But I enjoy walking and running on my own as well. I would not like it if every run or walk (depending on the state of our knees) was with the company of my friend, good though it is. I like running by the wharf or walking on the tracks or up my mountain by myself sorting my world out in my head as I do.

I enjoy the company. But I also enjoy times of solitude. On a tramp I get to really take in my surroundings in a deeper way than when I have company. I do not only walk past the bushes, wild flowers, birds and rocks but I “commune” with them. I “take in” and take on board the open spaces and feel better for it. It is a different experience than chatting with someone.  It can be the same track and environment, but experienced in a different way. And it is the same with running alone. I can commune with my inner being as I run. Running with someone else is different, fun also, but in a different way.

I drove up to Christchurch today by myself. I find I don’t turn the car radio on at all. I love the drive. I enjoy the art of driving and get into a world of my own doing it. It is different than driving with a friend or my wife. Time alone is precious, enjoyable and somehow refreshing. Different.

I guess its like eggs. Sometimes fried eggs, sometimes scrambled.