The world today does not understand, in either man, or woman, the need to be alone.

Anne Morrow Lindbergh, Gifts from the Sea.

Alone time is for the brave and truthful among us. It is that time when thoughts come up like, “Am I the only one who ever feels this way?” Or, “Does anyone else ever think about this?” Or, “Do other people want to see these things, do these things, try these things?”

And in the beginning, I think I am unique, perhaps odd, or even damaged in some way because the answers appear to be, “No.”

I separate myself from what I perceive as a judging world and eventually find the courage to be me, discover who I am, let go of the shoulds and musts and oh mys. In the beginning that brings forth all sorts of feelings that are not particularly pleasant, but that is just part of growing into my own skin. I need to be alone to do that.

Finally, coming to a level of comfort that allows me to reach outside of my own perceptions, I even discover someone else who understands, someone else who can ask the questions in my head, someone who I can speak freely to and be confident they will not turn away.

Now, my alone time is richer than you can imagine because it is not consumed by doubts and second guessing myself. A friend who understands the sacredness of being alone, the simple beauty of being who I am, and the joy of knowing a door is always open, is perhaps one of the greatest gifts one person can give another.