Solo & seeking the opposite of solitude

mountainss To give you the crisp details of my present reality right now: I’m snuggled upon cushions leaning against a window that boasts a mountain range view, up in my loft bedroom that I literally climb a ladder to get on to. My soundtrack in the politely pitter-pattering of slow Sunday rain and a spotify playlist of sleepy winter tunes. I’m wearing fluffy socks and I’d be a comfy cuddle as I swear I’ve gained some NZ kilo’s. Basically, its the blissed-out backdrop to a soppy romantic folk music video, yet I’m alone.


I relentlessly seek out experiences that can be selfish pursuits of growth, transformation and just general epic adventures - but I forget that my favourite part is the people I share those moments of glory with. The mountain peak brings overwhelming elation, yes, but I’d love to see my sister beside me at the summit. The best chai in the world is best served with a shared raw-vegan-caramel-slice, where my Mum is at the other end of the spoon digging in to it. A great meal comes from the love poured in to it, and the many loving hands it takes to create it, and I realise how much I adore a full kitchen.

And this rainy grey day, I am faced with the fact that some forms of happiness are only real when shared.

How ecstatic it would feel to room these terrains with my best friend.

How dreamy it would be to get cosy with a cuppa and a book with my love by my side.

But, I suppose the Universe is urging me to embrace solitude for now, once again. Solo learnings and deep yearnings. The gift of time and space to explore and experiment without authority or comparison, just me, my desires and curiosities, my emotions and practices.

Let this time be an offering to soften.