December 2, 2011 § 2 Comments

Sometimes it’s needed; other times it’s forced upon us. Stephen King said that alone is “the most awful word in the English tongue. Murder doesn’t hold a candle to it and hell is only a poor synonym.”

So for those moments when aloneness is inevitable, I appreciate these words by Canadian poet Tanya Davis, who very simply and gracefully shows the life still present in solitude, the removal of lonely from alone, which made it so awful.

This solitary evening, I am reading a collection of contemporary fairy tales, My Mother She Killed Me, My Father He Ate Me (not as gruesome as it sounds – but a great title, yes?), baking bread with cardamom and orange juice, and grooving to Kitty, Daisy, and Lewis because as Tanya says, “the way bodies move genuinely to beats is, after all, gorgeous and affecting.”

What solitary activities will you partake in this weekend?

(Image credit here.)


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§ 2 Responses to Solitude

  • Laura says:

    What I have done solitarily: Christmas shopping for my parents, reading George MacDonald fairy tales, and listening to The Psalters’ “Divine Liturgy of the Wretched Exiles”. Also filling out college reference forms for my young friends. Oh, and making cranberry-popcorn strings (although technically my roommate was around for that).

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