The Stigma of Solitude

Being alone in the Montana woods with no one to bother her is a dream of someone I know. It’s her dream of finding peace. I honor that dream. It’s not mine, but that’s fine.

I know what it’s like to be alone in Montana and it taught me some valuable lessons. I really can be alone in a room with no other people nor devices on and be alright.

I wasn’t in a cabin but in an apartment and before that a condominium. There’s a reason for my aloneness and it rests squarely upon my shoulders. It’s because of my own issues.

So it’s actually a good thing for a writer to be able to handle solitude and I can. The priest who disabled me said to the New York Times he struggled with having to live a celibate life and not have a woman to come home to talk with and help him deal with the pressures of his day. Those are not his exact words but the irony is that he never learned he didn’t ever have to be alone even if there were no people around. With the rosary, you have Our Lady to be with you, praying with you. Mother Teresa us said to have said holding her rosary was like holding her Mother’s hand.

So as a child I had tea parties with an invisible friend. I didn’t see her but she was there for me. She really raised me and though I was far from a perfect child, I was usually quite well behaved until I was about 11 years old.

I didn’t know of the rosary. But she was there for me and I am grateful because I could never have made it through what I did in Montana without her.

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