Wanting solitude doesn't mean wanting to leave your life or responsibilities behind.
When things become too crowded and too loud, I freeze—unable to decide where to begin.
In my mind, I can see each individual thing that needs attention, evaluation, or action.
They are like fish in a pond.
At first, they look peaceful, each one waiting quietly to be fed.
But the moment I give the first drop of attention, they all rush toward it at once-swarming, piling over one another, fighting for the same small piece of focus.
The water that was calm only moments before becomes troubled.
It is raw chaos.
And I am left standing there, stunned.
That is why solitude can feel so attractive to me.
Not because I want to abandon the pond.
I just need enough quiet to feed one fish at a time.
Maybe solitude isn't about abandoning the pond.
Maybe sometimes you just stop throwing food into it.
You sit beside the water.
You wait.
Eventually the fish stop swarming.
The sediment settles.
And for the first time in a while...
you can see through the water again.
