The Beauty of being Alone.

You can go a long time believing you know exactly what you want.  

You can spend hours, days, years planning how you yourself are going to be, what you are going to do, and who you are going to permit access to your most guarded dreams, stories, and feelings that are so fragile and valuable to you. 

All it takes is a night to be alone to realize there is no way to plan, strategize or anticipate what you will want or be one day.  There is no guide or how to manual to finding passions, and there are no "permanents" or "have to's" or "I guess's" associated with what you are doing now.  There is no guarantee that what you love now, will be what you love tomorrow.  

All it takes is being alone.  Alone with your thoughts.  Alone with your desires.  

No outward influences thwarting you in directions you don't even realize your taking. Truly alone to realize there are things in this universe that could make you not feel so alone.  There will be things in this world that we will find in the midst of noise, and busyness and our mindless routines, temporary solutions to solving our aloneness to hush the aching reminder that we are but a part of something greater, but those things aren't what connect to the roots of your being.  Those needs are a temporary filler to the voids that form in everyday life, talk, openings in schedules.  Those aren't the things that will comfort you when you are sitting in your room, looking out the window, imagining what that view holds for you.  Wondering what you will make of the view you have, and who you want to be there with you when you start paving your own way.  Because those tiny moments of absolute solidity and tranquility, with nothing but your own company are the defining moments in encompassing what will make you feel whole and not so alone.  

To be undoubtedly alone, you must see yourself as an independent, a whole, not in need of being completed and finished, capable of taking on anything and everything by yourself.  It is in these moments brought to us under false pretenses of obligation to not only prove our strength, but prove that we we're right, that we realize that we but put up a front, and we are wrong. We are naive creatures, desperate for affirmation that we did not waste the little time we have here on something that could be of no use to us in the future. 

That we we're right about our lengthy, thought out plan, and we don't need to stray from it.  It is in these moments of fleeting independence, where we think we attain what we want, that we actually feel alone.  It is in these moments, that we no longer know exactly what we want.  We experience fear, anxiety, confusion and combat it with this strange drive to PROVE we aren't any of these things.  But it's okay to be these things. These are things that lead you to your true wants and make you question what you are doing now.

These are the times where the years and hours of exhausting, long nights of thinking what will open the best life for us show no assistance in preparing us to be truly alone.  Because being alone makes you not want to be.  

But you have to understand that being alone is not a darkness, or a thing to avoid.  

Rather, alone is a friend, a temporary companion, helping you on to a dream.  Alone is the only friend gracious enough and blunt enough to force you to be honest with yourself about what you need out of this world so that it may be replaced and move on to someone else who needs it.  We weren't meant to be alone, and as long as you feel that strange pull towards something bigger than you, in those raw moments of complete separation, you aren't meant to be alone either.   Because finding something bigger to fulfill our plan is what this life is really about, and learning to embrace it when it comes bounding in, sometimes uninvited, sometimes aggressively and most of the time, unexpectedly.  Because if you can do it, just once, you will find you no longer will feel alone, and you have truly not wasted your time believing in something to complete you, a plan, a course.   It may not be the course or plan you had envisioned in those long hours, or years, or agonizingly late, thoughtful nights, but it will be the plan that works out, and the plan that makes you thankful your original one did not.