I love walking alone. Absorbing every raindrop. Adjusting my steps and breaths to the cracks and sighs of a waking forest.
I love working alone. Controlling every keystroke. Adjusting my sleep pattern until the first words I write every morning carve the silence of a sleeping street.
But there is an edge. When I dive too far into solitude and the raindrops absorb me and the keystrokes control me and no matter how much I adjust I keep ending up out of place. When the word ‘friends’ makes me confused and I realize I have shut almost every single door and lost the courage to nudge any of them open.
There is a risk in letting your schedule stretch into your sleep. There is a risk in marking free time as your last priority, connections as distractions.
A few weeks ago, I started scheduling events instead of evasions, rearranging my priorities. I am walking away from the edge. And this time, I am adjusting my steps to other steps.
Halfway through my most social week in years, I remember the importance of connecting with other people. I remember how to open doors. I remember what ‘friends’ mean, and just how much.