Like most moms of busy families, solitude is pretty hard to come by around my house. Even though my kids technically have “two homes” and they spend time at both mom’s and dad’s house, and as teenagers, they have reasonably busy lives, it is a rare day or night that I don’t have at least one other body in my house. Often, even if only one of my kids is “in the house,” they’ve got a friend or two over as well. So, solitude…let’s just say my life is an underlying search for a little solitude.
I do count my blessings–I have my own room and it is no longer the gathering place it used to be. I occasionally miss the days when there was a constant stream of children wandering in and out of my room, piling on the bed, asking me for things–but overall, my room provides a bit of respite and I can shut myself up in there and spend a few minutes before I’m found. Of course, the cats get very excited when they see me heading for my room, thinking they will horn in on my solitude and get some undivided attention.
And, I can generally take a bath or shower uninterrupted–after years of “public” bathing–the parade of kids with urgent emergencies or major arguments that needed mediation–I can get a snippet of genuine solitude in the bathroom now. So, having been doing this family thing for quite some time, I have great appreciation for what solitude I can find.
And, I’ve grown used to functioning amidst chaos–being able to work and function with three competing cd players going, the phone ringing and someone knocking at the door. In fact, I think I’ve grown so used to the chaos that at times I’m not really sure what to do with myself when I do get some uninterrupted time alone. I feel like I should take advantage of an empty house to mop the floors or clean out the entryway closet–instead of doing a little yoga or settling into reading a book or doing a little journal-writing–which would be more spiritually rewarding things to do with a little solitude. I’m not really sure my usual yoga sessions really count–me sitting in the midst of a noisy house with the cats climbing on me as I stretch out on the living room floor.
My constant search for solitude is tempered, I know, by my knowledge that soon I will likely have more solitude and peace and quiet than I know what to do with. And, when all my teenagers finally grow up and move away, I will miss the crazy chaos of a bustling, growing family.