Living as solitary practicing

When it comes to faith and beliefs, there are community times, and there are solitary times.

For solitary practitioners, it can often be frustrating when there is no one to reach to for help, for discussing confusions, or for venting our worries. Ultimately, we’ll always yearn for community when practicing a belief.

Luckily, we do know how to enjoy solitude, to be alone with the goddess and the fey. Although spirituality is indeed personal, we do get a kind of joy from solitude that is different from being alone in a community.

When in a community, we are already brought to the presence and awareness of the faith and divinity around us. But when we are alone, it’s not easy to always be mindful.

That’s why it’s easy to feel lonely as a solitary.

However, the joy of solitary is special because it often pops up in tiny little unexpected moments, telling us the mundane everyday life is not so mundane. It often pops up, sprinkling magic over what we thought was loneliness or uninspiredness.

When I think about a paragraph I read.

When I touch a branch of a street tree.

When there is a breeze and I am reminded of our presence.

When I smell foods and cooking of the season and the idea of consumption is turned into thoughts of making, harvest and sharing.

When I see the bigger picture and feel conflict dissolve into bits that comprise a cycle.

 

There are times I do want to experience for myself, and by myself, not wanting guidance, companion or disclosure.

As a part of my path, I want to know what I am experiencing and how I am taking in those experiences.

When I notice I can connect to the goddess, the fey or the world in a mere second within a plain, everyday routine, it is the proof that I connect.

And it brings me joy, peace and strength.

It will serve me for hours or even days to come, knowing I connect. Without having to console a book, ask for opinions, or join other people’s activities, I can still connect.

Little by little, this makes me strong.

The loneliness and emptiness when I lose those connections do not add up.

The joy and the faith of when I do connect, even though I am all alone, add up.