I was away overnight, involved much in the way of team building, active listening and discussion over the course of two days. Although it was thought provoking and enjoyable, the simple fact was that I was with a ton of people for an extended period of time and I found myself seeking out a quiet spot by lunchtime on the second day. It was a bit cooler out than the day before, graying skies and dampness in the air, and yet I sought the outdoors and targeted not the community tables where others enjoyed their lunch outside, but rather a deserted gazebo, directly on the water at the end of a short dock.
And so I walked, down the stairs and onto the dock to the gazebo. And I sat, and for a while, I didn’t even eat. I just looked out over the water and was still. I reflected a bit on conversations throughout the morning, but mostly I didn’t think too much. I did my best, very much like the water around me, to be simply still. There was no boat traffic at the time, and few distractions close by. And I cherished the quiet and the time alone.
Life is running at such a hectic pace these days, and I’m enormously grateful for all of the amazing things that continue to come my way, but often have little time to catch my breath and take it all fully in. But I try to; I try to make some time each day, enjoy some alone time—some solitude—to just be. To think a bit about what I’ve encountered throughout the day, but mostly to just be calm, to just be for a while. Yesterday was like that, and in less than 20 minutes, I gathered my thoughts, gathered myself and was ready to keep moving again.