The Remarkable Discovery of Me

"Cherish your solitude. Take trains by yourself to places you have never been. Sleep out alone under the stars. Learn how to drive a stick shift. Go so far away that you stop being afraid of not coming back...."

And so begins an amazing quote from noted American playwright and feminist Eve Ensler.  Although her words were perhaps more inclined towards women, I find myself reading them and taking note at their profundity.  I certainly cherish my solitude at times.  And while I haven't taken any physical trains lately, my mind has a dedicated itinerary of unvisited places that it travels to.  I enjoy walking outside among the stars alone, but sleeping outside would take some getting used to.  The inner workings of me seem to be as far away as a person can go.  Once you've been there, fear of anything is pointless.

(Yes, I realized I skipped learning to drive a stick shift.  Some adventures are better left alone.)

In my daily wanderings, I find that I am becoming more enamored with those times when I am alone.  Take today, for instance.  I often walk down to the local library, in order to have writing sessions away from home, and today was no different.  Even in a public library, I find I write with less distraction.  It is getting there that has become what I enjoy.  The walk over is always this magical moment where I am free to be alone with my thoughts. My inner self and I have deep conversations on our current situation.  We unwrap our hopes and dreams, like Christmas presents.  I share my secrets and he does the same, and we promise never to mention them to another soul, except when enticed by awesomeness.  We even brainstorm over solutions to our life's most noticeable problems.  And of course, we laugh a lot together.

Perhaps it may be a bit disturbing to some that I keep referring to myself in the plural sense, but that's fine.  I am not insane (at least no more at this moment than I have ever been).  I simply feel like there is a part of myself that I am still in a state of discovering.  Much like being introduced to a new friend.  It might sound absurd, but I think we dissect ourselves in stages, brooding over various layers until, once completely  unwrapped, we see ourselves in full.

How long does this actually take?

Beats me.  I never said I had all the answers, or any of them, to be quite honest.  I am just one of the people who enjoys asking the right questions.  Hopefully, when my journey is complete, and I make that remarkable discovery of me, I will like the man staring back at me.  I'll understand his story, recognize what motivates him, and delight in the experiences that led to his being.  And then we'll have deep conversations on our current situation.  And laugh.  A lot.  Together.

Marcus Jamison, the Rare Poet