I came to LA seeking loneliness and I found it. In my loneliness, I have always found myself. It makes me wonder if we don't keep our lives so busy and so filled with people just so that we can avoid this very thing: to spend time with one's self.
I lead a rich life, filled with people whose needs often trump my own. It is difficult to impossible to discover one's own self and identify one's own needs in a cacophony of voices, opinions and requests. (Here I mostly refer to my lovely children.)
In my loneliness, I find a deep longing to go back to them and to the comfort of my responsibilities. It is a strain, really, to expand one's own sense of self.
I find the awkward loneliness of my first days by myself to be most profound in the mornings. Coffee is a wonderful balm, as is my pen and paper.
Who am I? What pleases me? What do I long to do, to be, to become? How will I impact the world around me in a positive way?
I travel alone to force myself to be with myself… to really be with her and to love her, to nurture her interests and to allow her her own pace. I let her meander. This is where the magic speaks to me.
I am here, in these shoes and I am special, beautiful and important. I travel in the discomfort of my loneliness to remember that.