Appreciating a Table For One

There was a time when I was first single (again) when I had no choice but to spend time on my own.  It was a year before COVID and I found myself setting up a new apartment for the boys and me and once again putting my life back on track.  

 I never enjoyed spending time alone, often going out of my way to find activities and others to spend time with.  Being on my own felt scary because it meant staring down thoughts and feelings that I would have otherwise preferred to be distracted from paying attention to. Which ironically, was the exact exercise I needed to spend time on.  

The thought of doing things by myself, like going to dinner, a movie, or even a coffee also seemed like a real stretch.  I had often seen people sitting at a table for one and wondered if they were there because they wanted to be, or if they were just killing time until the person they were meeting showed up.  It became something that I decided I needed to do, and almost felt like a dare.  One day I decided to go for it and took myself on a movie date.  I knew that once I was in the theatre, no one would be able to see that I was there solo and I reminded myself that not only could I choose my movie snacks (and not need to share them), but I could pick a seat based on my preference, with lots of seats to choose from seeing as I was only in need of one.  I left the movie feeling empowered and bold - maybe I could become someone who enjoyed doing things on her own more often.

All this solo time was good practice for COVID lockdowns when almost everyone had a taste of spending time alone.  My bubble was quite small in the early days and I discovered that I could be pretty good company, for the most part, and didn't miss being out in crowded spaces.  As things eased and we could start to engage with others again, I found that I had a hard time doing so.  I felt very awkward and out of practice, not knowing if I was doing this "socializing" thing the right way anymore.  I started to worry and wonder if my pendulum had swung too far toward the hermit end of the spectrum.

This year has brought about many changes for me regarding connections and community.  I am finding joy in group activities and cultivating many quality relationships.  What has been interesting is noticing the slow transition away from spending time alone.  I am not talking about time around the apartment when I am studying for school or taking care of the daily ins and outs of life, I am referring to time spent alone outside of the house.  It struck me the other morning, as I dried off from an early morning solo dip.  I had my travel mug with me, and the rogue thought crossed my mind...should I grab a coffee before heading home?  I could pop over to the local coffee shop and grab one to go making my way straight home, or I could grab one and grab a table on the patio and sit and drink it while watching the world go by.  The idea felt both awkward and appealing - was I trying to prove something or looking to stretch out a good vibe from the water?  How long would I need to sit there, and what in the heck would I do while I sat?  I didn't have a book or a pen and paper with me, and no earbuds either, so I would have nothing to distract me from myself aside from the steaming mug of coffee in my hand.   As I sat at a sun-dappled table I began to appreciate the space and time being there on my own and without distractions provided.  I was able to just sit and be, almost meditating while I enjoyed every last sip of that delicious brew.  Thoughts came and went, time slowly passed and as I eventually headed to my car and made my way home I felt whole and connected to myself in a way that my previous solo outings hadn't led to.  

While I feel grateful for solo moments, I also have deep appreciation and gratitude for the times when I have more than one seat at my table.  Learning to flow between the two ends of this spectrum has taught me the true meaning of connection.