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A Reflection on Sunday

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I’m all right being alone for six days. I stay busy. I measure out my “ time capital,” in nickel and dime portions, and wonder if I’m investing wisely. I am responsible only for me.

But on Sunday, something changes. The quiet becomes quieter. The emptiness becomes emptier. It is a time for introspection, for feeling the invisible shaft of loneliness plunge deep - a time to retreat inward and light a candle. Though the sun shines, it does not repel loneliness like fire repels a wolf. I don’t choose it, but it comes, because it is Sunday.

I use distractions sometimes, but often, not. I let it engulf me, and I drink an extra glass of wine, so that the loneliness in me has company. The two are compatible. “In vino veritas.”

Oh, but “to do what other people do on Sunday morning,” so goes the song. Where is the one who I can do with, what other people do, on Sunday morning?

Being alone has its own set of rules - its own deck of cards. Loneliness is not a TV series to watch on Sundays. Behind many drawn curtains and blinds lurk the reality and the smell of loneliness. The curtains and blinds need not be drawn. Loneliness doesn’t need the darkness. It only needs a Sunday.

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Post on Sun Jan 20, 2013 9:03 am  WWGrace

We be birds of a feather.

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