When I was sitting in the day spa getting my lovely foot soak, I was placed in a room with a complete and utter stranger, Bernie her name was. She was a talker, which was fine by me, I’m a little awkward with strangers and fluff about for small talk. She talked about health and food, she had roast goat for lunch, do you know it’s much cheaper than any other meat? She only eats beef from New Zealand too, apparently the cows there are way less stressed she said.
When she asked me what I was doing for the weekend, I told her I was having a night away from the kids and Hubby, for some me time. “I applaud you, not many people can be alone with themselves” she said before I was whisked away to my own room for some more heavenly treatments. And it struck me, I used to be really good at alone time, really good…..reading books, sketching, talking photos, reading magazines, watching movies and day dreaming. But what I found this weekend was completely different.
Although I enjoyed my weekend and managed to catch up on sleep, everything I did was planned so as to not get bored. I knew what time I would arrive, would have a nap before heading to the day spa, watch the sun set over the marsh, come back to the van and have a drink, all the while catching up on some blog reading and some Instagram surfing, cool some dinner, watch a movie with another drink and then off for an early night. The next day a shipping trip before heading home.
I wonder why I had to have it all planned? Why was I so scared about being bored? When did I become such an amateur at being alone?
When was the last time you were alone with yourself, really alone?