I am driving on George Washington Bridge on my way to home
\nAfter a grueling workday.
\nThe traffic is torturous and my nerves are aching
\nFor the relief of my home and the exuberant mood of wine.<\/p>\n
Every weekday is a smothering grind of the outer world,
\nJust saved from a total disaster by the tapestry of my inner world.
\nNow living in my sixth decade I have seen a lot of life \u2013
\nA lot of which I would not repeat.<\/p>\n
I live 30 miles north of Manhattan,
\nIn a rural mosaic of rivulets and strip-forests.
\nMy sparse solitariness has been further augmented
\nBy my wife\u2019s walking away from me on account of our dissimilarity:
\nWe were like opposite-colored bishops on the chessboard of life \u2013
\nTogether but not with each other.
\nShe was interested in cutting costs
\nWhile I was interested in cutting ties with the world.<\/p>\n
My solitude is reinforced by my unpopularity among people –
\nEspecially among women;
\nWhich has saved me their endless chase through
\nThe tinsel social scenes and happy-hour bars.
\nThe punctuated absences of my two college-age children
\nFurther helped me to create a world of my own.<\/p>\n
People aspire for adulation and greasy ties with the world
\nBut I have evolved into a serene loner, an ambitious romantic.
\nI found that wealth and popularity were shimmering illusions:
\nThey take in more than they give.
\nFor me a single rose can make a garden.<\/p>\n
The world is afraid of loneliness
\nBut there is no loneliness
\nIf you give yourself to your inner space.<\/p>\n
I often hang around on my deck
\nTo slice my gaze through the profusion of trees
\nEmbroidering the backyard.
\nOut yonder where the tree-tops mingle with
\nThe diaphanous azure veil of the skies,
\nI hear footsteps of God walking in eternal silence.<\/p>\n
Shakespeare said ripeness is all:
\nSolitude is ripeness.
\nWe do not want to bounce and scream
\nWalking on the trampoline of world
\nBut see, think, understand, and absorb
\nThe ever mysterious pulse of life.<\/p>\n
I visit Rainrock, a small forest ten miles from home.
\nI walk through the high-density space
\nWhere light sneaks through trees
\nAnd sky is a patchwork mosaic above.
\nHours pass and I do not get the fill.
\nThough bereft of humans there is no loneliness here –
\nOne feels the company of something larger.<\/p>\n
Out there in woods
\nI find the majestic serenity of God.
\nThe elements of nature connect with my elements.
\nThere are no messages but one of absorption
\nWith the mysterious and eternal universe.
\nIts grandeur surpasses everything.<\/p>\n
\u201cThink me not unkind and rude
\nThat I walk alone in grove and glen;
\nI go to the God of the wood
\nTo fetch His word to men.\u201d *
\nHours pass and I find myself immersed in books;
\nThe voyage that never seems to end \u2013
\nBut its thirst never quenches either.<\/p>\n
In the beginning – if there was one \u2013
\nThere was no loneliness;
\nEverything was in God\u2019s shadow
\nBut when man created the world
\nHis loneliness was born.<\/p>\n
When my energy begins to sag
\nI put activities on hold
\nAnd prepare for the journey of sleep.
\nEntering its labyrinthine paths
\nAnd kaleidoscopic light-patterns
\nI feel I am touching the feet of eternity.
\nBetween the day and night I do not know
\nWhich is the more life-giving?<\/p>\n
I go to shopping malls \u2013
\nNot to shop but to see women and children
\nWrapped in the ribbons of excitement –
\nTheir lust for things unhinged.
\nI see how temporal happiness enthralls people
\nAnd sooner or later makes them lonely.<\/p>\n
Days end and give way to the majesty of evenings,
\nAnd evenings subtly melt into the aura of nights.
\nSleep reawakens our soul
\nAnd the eternal drama of life continues \u2013
\nA vast symphony that seems to be conducted
\nBy a consciousness higher than ours.<\/p>\n
As I walk on the last few stretches of life
\nI feel the inherent grandeur in the conception of life.<\/p>\n
* R.W. Emerson<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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