family / myself


Being alone is always a gift and a curse for me. I love the time to do whatever I want, but fear the time to do whatever I want. I always end up making a list of things to do (vacuuming, for example, is almost always on the list).

There was a time, when I first moved to Pennsylvania, when I was really good at being alone. I didn’t have a choice – I only knew my roommate, I wasn’t working yet, and I wanted to get to know the city.  I would find a place I wanted to go, go there, and then go other places that looked interesting on my way home. I spent time at the library and the bookstore, my safe-alone places. I took myself out to lunch.

Now, I do chores.

Here is a suggestion for myself: when I get home after the yoga workshop next week and I have more alone time, I should do what I want – walk, yoga, read. I will keep the house tidy and ensure that our refrigerator is stocked because that’s how I roll. But I will also do what I want.


2 thoughts on “Alone

  1. Wonderful poem! I love the alone time I get every day. This was not always true growing up in a home full of people. Quiet was part of the alone-ness I needed to get comfortable with, which I love today. Being with people is lovely but being alone and loving it is a true gift. Thanks.

  2. All of these thoughts and things that you like to share with the world are just some of the reasons why I love you Vicki! I found an old framed photo of you, me, and Abby and it made me smile! You are the kind of friend I wish I could bottle up and take along with me on my endless journey. Alas, I will settle for checking in more on your blog 🙂

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