Prolonged Solitude
Jumping straight into the poetry, followed by a personal note.
Prolonged Solitude
by Regan Smith
• • •
Prolonged Solitude is the only one
who has created such a space to where
my claustrophobic subconscious can
finally take a deep breath, reach out and
pen itself to paper.
Prolonged Solitude has given me
revelations and understandings of myself
in ways I’ve never known before;
she’s honest and kind and has
kept me accountable.
Her silent words have shown me
myself in raw and uncomfortable ways;
where I realize that I’ve been storing
shattered glass in my side–only
now my eyes aren’t too busy to
see it, my hands aren’t too busy to help,
and where I can alleviate and heal.
I’ve mistaken her before, long ago
when we weren’t well acquainted.
I mistook her as an enemy–
and thought I responded with
purposeful neglect, but when I numbed
her out, it was because I was screaming,
trying to fill the void which would
only leave me with a sore throat and
a messy mind. I inaccurately
attributed that character to her.
For while she’s a quiet friend–
one who says few words–
those few words are pure wisdom,
always bringing me back to myself,
to still my self, to slow my thoughts;
and for that, I thank you,
Prolonged Solitude.
While I still work during the week remotely and spend a lot of time with Ricky, this pandemic has brought on a great deal of solitude, as I’m sure many others are experiencing. As an introvert, I adore being alone–I truly get so much energy out of it. But there’s a point to where I exceed my introversion tanks and start retreating inward. I go deep, deep into my thoughts and truly get lost. I start to lose touch with reality for I’ve ventured so deeply into this secret land that only I can see. I begin to take every thought with a thousand tons of gravity, chasing it back to origin, and can’t find my way back. It’s such an interesting concept to share but truly I become so distracted with my thoughts that I have a difficult time focusing on really anything. I start feeling anxious since I don’t feel grounded.
To counteract, I’ve been spending more time in meditation and prayer, writing and setting myself a structured schedule to continue to write and create. This has been a true blessing these past few weeks.
During these efforts, I partook in a guided writing exercise to help bring forth my subconscious to paper. To simply see it and allow more clarity in my mind. The activity was to write a letter to someone. I chose to write a letter to my present-day self. To be even more vulnerable, I found that through this exercise, I have been harboring hate subconsciously against myself. The letter was so incredibly encouraging and uplifting–speaking against the inadequacy that I had felt.
I didn’t realize until after the ink dried that I had been in an ongoing struggle with feeling inadequate, a slave to growth, an imposter to all.
While I can’t control this terrible circumstance that we’re all in, I’m so incredibly thankful for this season of solitude. I’m not sure how much longer I would have gone before I recognized the hurt that I was holding. I don’t have many answers to this, but I know what the truth says about me.
I know that I am empowered, and out of the abundance of that is my growth.
I know that I am strong, and out of the abundance of that is the encouragement I give.
I know that I am fully loved, and out of the abundance of that I’m able to love others.
I know that I am on the right track, for when I’m not, I’m always guided back.