Solitude

These days I am more alone. This is true in the sense that I am around fewer people. In another sense I have been forced to learn that for me to put the hours in to learn to live again after monumental psychological shifts due to my grief, I internalised many of my thoughts and used very personal methods to address them- I have read and continue to read about psychological models of grief counselling, the philosophical and humanist address of grief, ethics and "how to live" and I follow blogs and books about others' coping mechanisms after experiencing similar loss. Through grief my skills of reflection and introspection have sharpened and, with it, an increased comfort with aloneness. In addition I have learnt consideration. Consideration of others, of self, of my environment. 

The greater attention I now direct towards the small and subtle provides stimulus that can fill my mind as if I can now peer down a microscope at a world previously beyond my scope, a world that perversely has grown and grown even though I am focusing on finer and finer detail. Learning how to cope with my grief has taught me the importance of looking, really looking, at things previously dismissed as unimportant and inconsequential. My world now demands this of me. 

To be lonely is to feel isolated and alienated. To be lonely is to feel disconnected and separate from myself and my surroundings. But I cannot be lonely when I relate to others, to ideas, to living and non-living things. I am defended from loneliness by the trees on my walks, the sea less than a mile from my door, the chilled air I gasp on a run, the bread I bake, my cats and beautiful, ugly and interesting things. My loneliness is kept jailed by the hills I can see from my home, my patients at work, good tools in the kitchen, the shed and online, a real paper book, electricity, education and a huge array of other micro saviours. 

When I am solitary I move at my own pace. It is my own pace that provides the deepest state of comfort to me and, as a relaxed and autonomous agent I am free to imagine and explore as freely as possible. It is only when I am solitary that my heart rate, my circadian rhythm and my brain are at their most natural state. Behind solitary allows me the safety to lose myself. 

Being alone is a fact. Being lonely or enjoying solitude are emotions. This is key- appreciating the control I can have over my feelings about being solitary. If I am alone with my thoughts I need to exercise enough discipline to be an autonomous agent. It follows, for me, that to appreciate self-determination I need an uncluttered, introspective and, most importantly, solitary examination.

I know I am very lucky in many ways. One of those ways is that, on the whole, I like myself. I am unsure how common or rare this may be and although I am acutely aware as to how arrogant I may sound I try to avoid grandiosity and unrealistic expectations of myself- I hope to be as honest as possible. 

Only when I am solitary, either alone or in company, can a type of individualism emerge in that I can experience a strong sense of self. Being solitary encourages a reinforcement of foundations and a sharpening of borders. In turn this promotes a type of liberty, a freedom from destructive influences. 

Anyone that survives the death of their child and has the courage to keep on moving has earned the right to self-respect. It is extremely tough to be comfortably alone unless you like the person you are alone with and so I allow myself this fragile authenticity. 

"And those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music"

Why I run

Some things have instrumental value whereby we perceive it in terms of its usefulness such as running being healthy or helping us to get thinner, medicine making us well and of food being fuel. 

But some things have an intrinsic value whereby their value is in and of itself and not defined by its use.  We rarely recognise many things of intrinsic value and are therefore inexperienced at identifying so many obvious sources of pleasure right in front of us. 

I run, as I travel in life, alone. Well I am not truly alone in life of course, I have Claire and Tom and friends and family. But I usually feel alone (as distinct from "lonely") and have a tendency to rely on my own perceived prescience, ideology and route to arrive at conclusions and goals. This is not to say I am disconnected from the influence of others, far from it- in immodest moments I pride myself on my empathy and listening skills- but even though I am the person I have become because of my love for Claire, Tom and Ruby and their love for me, I am, in essence, solitary. We all are in the end. 

I run, as I travel in life, alone. I have never run with anyone else and I don't want to. I move at my own speed, under my own power towards my own chosen goal down my chosen path. If I wish. And if I don't wish it then I don't. I don't know what my personal bests are. I don't know my fastest times over a run or over a mile or up a hill or compared to any other runner. I don't know my average pace. All I count is my distance and, even then, I don't really care too much as long as I am running. I have never run in a race. Never done an organised marathon or half marathon or 10k. Never done a "fun run". I have never run "for charity". I just run for me and for the sake of running. 

My only company is my music which has only an instrumental value in assisting me push one foot in front of the other. I pass other runners and we nod almost imperceptibly. When I am "in" the run, not just running, not warming up or cooling down, not the last few hardest miles but when I am in the run my mind is free. This is how I know I am in my run- when my mind is free to wander as with my body. My body in the run feels loose and warm, full of potential, and capable of climbing mountains. It is not travelling from A to B. It has no goal except to move, to be in transit, and it could go on forever. In that moment, however brief, my mind is free too. And when I wander I also wonder. In that moment I think I can be happy. Running frees me from the illusion of what is important. It frees me from the pretence of what is essential.

I am hardwired to run as are we all. I need nothing to run, not really even shoes, no wheels, no tools, no fuel outside my own stores. There is nothing propelling me apart from my own muscles. I love the brutal honesty about that- I cannot coast, I cannot change gear (that is walking), nothing else will push me along- I either run or I stop. And that's that. 

Solitary running allows me the space to settle into my own very personal rhythm. Through the effort I put in I earn my right to this. Running with others, as with walking together, forces me to change my pace, my rhythm, my mind to an unatural state of unwanted connection; an attached "elsewhereness" in place of the desired liberation. 

These moments of free thought provide the only true meditative times in my life. I cannot make a prior commitment to myself to use that time to work through a problem or weigh up an issue worth consideration. I cannot "empty my mind" as traditional meditation would have me do and I wouldn't want to do this anyway- I don't want to be bereft of thoughts because there are too many interesting and important ideas in need of my respects. When I am in my run I free my mind as with gentle dreaming, I give it permission to let it roam its own course, meandering and drifting. 

Every blog entry I have written was germinated on a run. And when I return and I calm and I cool and I refuel I can then start the process of focusing the initial thoughts into a coherent idea and thereafter understandable prose. Many ideas don't make it of course but the point is that few worthwhile ideas come from thoughts borne outside a run. If my body moves my mind moves. 

My grandfather, an enthusiastic trout fisherman, was not one for conversation but he told me when I was very young that still waters can turn poisonous and the healthiest fish are spawned in the fastest flows. He wasn't wrong. 

Why I love my children differently

I wanted to teach Ruby about feminism. I wanted to instill values of freedom of enquiry, reason and independence of mind with regards to encouraging the importance of equality and acceptable difference in others. I wanted to teach Ruby she was as valuable as any other human being and certainly of equal value, as accepted in societal norms, to any man. I wanted my girl to be a girl, whatever that means, and also to be a woman unafraid of anything, certainly no man. I wanted Ruby to be Ruby and not be subliminally moulded by persistent societal pressure into a sex-object or a victim or a prop or a foil.

I wanted to teach Ruby she had claim to as many of the planet's resources as any man and also the same responsibilities to its protection, immunity to punishment because of behaviour deemed unacceptable from a woman, impunity to gender-based economic inequality, absolute birth-control and corporeal autonomy. I wanted her to know that her gender should never, ever, hinder job prospects, relationship desires, travelling opportunities or education. She would be entitled to total exemption from restrictions placed on her because she was a woman. 

She could vote and therefore change the governing party of her country, a right that many people, particularly women, had fought and died for. 

I would have taught her online awareness of misogynist, faceless bullies and also the joy of online education and connection with billions of other people. 

I would have taught her that she could have been almost anything she wanted to be and the few things she couldn't be were not connected to her gender but the imperfect genes inherited from me. 

I would have taught her the value in being sceptical and questioning everything but particularly the patriarchal status quo. 

I would have taught her she was the most loveable woman in the world and that her heart could connect with anyone regardless of language, cultural difference, life experiences or geographical and psychic location and I would explain that although many people would want her heart, it was hers first. She wouldn't be giving it away but she would be sharing it. She would need to chose wisely. 

I would have taught her she would always be my baby, my first child, born in the early days of an intense, deep and obviously life-long love affair with her mum and that she was loved and was wanted more than air. She still is.

The stark reality

I last saw Ruby two years, seven months and five days ago today. I remain without her. 

Little dragonfly hunter, 

I wonder where you are off to today

-Lady Heguri