I want to write about the peaceful rhythm of solitude that I am feeling this morning. I want to share it with those of you who check into this blog, because I know that you also are looking for silence, solitude, and simplicity and sometimes like to be alone. And yet, I don’t know what to say. 
     For me, it’s a mind set rhythm, more than the need to make major changes in my life-style. My husband and I live a simple, retired life. Right now my primary challenge is not to worry about what might happen (What if I can’t bring in the wood for the wood stove next winter!) Basically, I am not a worrier, my glass is always half full, and often overflowing. But as we age, the winter cold and snow can tip the glass. 
     For you who are not into the retired life stage, you who have jobs and kids at home, your rhythm is different—in has to be. I know this because that was me earlier in my life. The rhythm of those  moments of silence, solitude, and simplicity was staccato.  For me it was early morning; I loved those moments, especially on the weekends. It was during those years of early Saturday mornings that I tapped into this longing, and began building times of solitude into my life. When I retired from teaching, I began solitary travel and then rented the cottage by the sea for five years. Now my home satisfies the longing. 
     What advice do I have for you? Follow your bliss. Sit in the silence and listen to what you are to do to fulfill the longing.... Well, that’s what I have to say!
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​​Follow your bliss. One of my favorite quotes from Joseph Campbell. For my purposes here, I will stick with this short version. I love to tell people to follow their bliss, but I need to take care that I don’t say it as a throw-away comment—in the category of ‘have a nice day.’ Following your bliss is serious, difficult business. If I truly want someone to do so, I have to be willing to accept the fact that it is their bliss, not my idea of what their bliss should be.
 
 
Here’s Campbell’s full quote. I love how he states it so positively.  
“Follow your bliss.
If you do follow your bliss,
you put yourself on a kind of track
that has been there all the while waiting for you,
and the life you ought to be living
is the one you are living.
When you can see that,
you begin to meet people
who are in the field of your bliss,
and they open the doors to you.
I say, follow your bliss and don't be afraid,
and doors will open
where you didn't know they were going to be.
If you follow your bliss,
doors will open for you that wouldn't have opened for anyone else.”

​“If you follow your bliss you put yourself on a kind of track that has been there all the while, waiting for you, and the life that you ought to be living is the one you are living.” This wisdom of Joseph Campbell’s rests deep within me. Preparations for my trip to Florence on Friday are in good order as I get ready to follow my bliss and live the life I want to live once again.
     Packing is completed. Library books returned. My Kindle is ready. Visits to church friends are scheduled or completed. Fourteen meals for my husband sit in the freezer. Friends and family are doing well.
     When I first read these words of Campbell, I embraced the idea of following one’s bliss as something everyone ‘should’ do. But times have changed, and so have I; his words feel more nuanced and complex. What about the families tracking across Mexico to enter our country? Perhaps they are following their bliss, but it surely isn’t the same bliss as the border crossing I will experience upon entering Italy. 
     I could go on and on, except I think these few words are enough to continue my thinking, and to get you pondering your bliss as well.

   I’m still feeling freedom from the writing project I released. I may end up writing the article, but it will happen without internal stress.
   I wonder how many pressure projects we put upon ourselves. Pressure to do something we don’t have to do nor want to do. Maybe the key is the ‘want’ part. For example, I’m about to go for a walk (before it rains). I don’t have to, but, and this is a big but, I want to keep this commitment I made to myself.
      What equals freedom. Off I go.

     It’s the day before I depart for my eleven day retreat to Florence. Packing, finishing a jigsaw puzzle, watching the last episode of Season Five of Downton Abbey; maybe a walk in the rain. I’m always a little restless on the day before I leave, even as I enjoy the final getting ready. I fly to Frankfurt at 5PM, and arrive in Florence at 9AM Monday morning (six hour time difference), in time for a second cappuccino. I’ll check into my apartment and then wander down to the Arno and just stand there on the Ponte Trinita and gaze at the Ponte Vecchio. Then pizza on the Piazza della Signoria, followed by a little nap. On it goes, or shall I say on I go, following my bliss.
     This week I’ve been mapping out the article I’m planning to write while there: ‘Seven Days Walking in Florence’. So far I’m considering ten different themes, but as I walk and wander I’ll settle into the perfect seven.
     I don’t know why, but more than usual I’ve heard a longing from those I’ve told about my trip. Oh, I wish I could do something like that… I wish I were you…I wish I had been more adventuresome.
Undoubtedly each comment is particular to the individual. I don’t know what they specifically had in mind, nor perhaps did they, but they definitely weren’t throwaway comments. In fact, there was a common theme: a deep desire to tap into something essential, to express their authentic self, which they knew they could only access by stepping ‘out of the box’.
     Perhaps this is why I continue to take my solitary trips—to keep my authentic self alive and developing. In many respects I don’t feel like I’m stepping out of the box anymore, but I know I am. Not everyone started practicing as early as me with parental encouragement to be a decision-maker and risk-taker. For that I am very grateful. But I believe that our deepest longings are not fulfilled with by a one-time event. We have to keep at it, keep finding out what we need to do to keep developing. And so I will keep at it tomorrow and for as long as I can.

     We’re getting through March. Not that it’s been a brutal one weather-wise, but as is its nature, it has been a long one. No out-like-a-lion in the forecast, which bodes well for an in-like-a-lamb. However, it looks like I’ll be experiencing rain during my first days in Florence, with temperatures in the low 70s. I’ll plan my time accordingly. In general, rain means museums, sun equals walks. But I can be flexible, singing in the rain and looking in the sun.
    As you might gather, the week leading up to my trip is almost as good as being there. Whatever your bliss might be at the moment, I encourage you to seize it and starting living into it.

I want to introduce you to Tom Soma and his blog http://www.lookingforgodinamerica.com/.

     After 15 years as Executive Director of Ronald McDonald House Charities® of Oregon and Southwest Washington, I left my job and sold my home. On April 20, I hit the road to look for God in America. During the next year, I'll be posing two questions: 1. How do you experience God? 2. How does that encounter color your life?
     By journey’s end, I hope to answer a third question:  Can the ways we connect with God help us recognize and appreciate what’s truly important—and perhaps transform how we engage with each other and the Earth?

     Although I try to keep away from specific religious talk on this blog, I don’t shy away from God talk as it relates to the search for silence, solitude and simplicity. As human beings we all long for some connection with the ineffable, we all find ourselves sitting in the mystery of life. And that is what Tom is looking for in America.   

      Tom has me thinking about how people experience solitude. I write about my own yearnings but what about others? What about those of you reading this blog? What about the people I meet? I feel that my understandings have reached a plateau, that my thoughts are redundant, that I’m treading water, that I need to learn from others.

     I’d love your comments, either on this blog or to me personally over email bobbifisher.mac@mac.com. I’ll also be asking people as I travel about either at around home or on my solitary travel. In fact on Sunday I’m off to Scotland and seven nights on Iona. No question I’ll meet people who are longing for silence, solitude and simplicity and who sometimes like to be alone.

    What questions to ask? How about Tom’s, substituting solitude for God?

     “How do you experience solitude? How does it color your life?”