On solitude, unexpected boredom, and wanting a little more out of life.

I’ve been racking my brain about what I should post this week,

I’m a naturally reclusive person. I like my quiet and my alone time, even if others don’t fully understand it. I’ve come to an understanding that a person can find a quiet luxury in being alone.

And before conclusions are jumped to, I’m not talking from a bitter, antisocial, grumpy neighbor kinda way.  I genuinely enjoy my own company.

I think I’m pretty great company, in fact I enjoy being in my comfortable clothing, spending time with my cats, and not having to entertain anyone or their schedule.

I don’t particularly need a packed calendar, constant conversation or somewhere to go every weekend.

Sometimes, I really just want to sit on my porch and listen to the birds, alone.

But, there are evenings, like last night for example where I found myself sitting around, chores done, bored out of my mind. Practically vibrating for something to do.

I wasn’t necessarily lonely but I was bored. And after driving into town and wandering around Dollar General, it occurred to me, I don’t really have anyone I can spontaneously text or ask to meet up.

There’s no last-minute dinner plans. No random shopping trips. No “Hey wanna be bored together?” messages.

And while not exactly upset about it, I did find myself with a slight longing that perhaps my social life could use a bit of work.

I think there’s a difference between wanting to be around people and wanting to have your people.

I don’t want to fill every weekend with plans or have a jam packed schedule of social engagements. But I would be lying if I said there weren’t occasions where I wish I had a close circle of friends I could call up without much thought.

The type of friends you can call without really having anything to talk about or any real plans. People who are just comfortable sitting around talking and doing absolutely nothing as they would be going out onto town.

Though, possibly even more importantly, people who can understand that just because I’m not constantly reaching out doesn’t mean I don’t care.

I think sometimes everyone gets so comfortable in the roles forced onto us that we forget to put up much of a fight when these roles don’t actually reflect who we are.

To be fair , the responsibility isn’t just on everyone else. Some of  it is on me too.

I’m not out here making a tremendous effort to meet people or putting myself in unfamiliar places where I might make new connections.

I’m not a drinker. Large crowds of unfamiliar people isn’t something I enjoy most of the time and the idea of socializing just for the sake of it does appeal to me.

I wouldn’t say I’m the kind of person who’s the life of the party, nor is that the kind of person I want to be known as.

But therein lies a contradiction.

I want to have people I can call up on a random Tuesday night, yet I don’t always put myself in situations where I have the opportunity to make those connections.

It’s pretty difficult to meet new people when your usual routine stays the same. Going to work, coming home, tending to whatever needs doing, and occasionally wandering around the DG looking for something to entertain yourself with.

Although, to be fair to DG, it’s probably the one place that’s seen me more than some of my acquaintances. Which is actually an impressive feat if I think about it.

I can admit, at least to myself and the Clawlings family, that while I’m shy, that doesn’t mean I’m delusional enough to believe a meaningful connection will materialize out of thin air.

If I want something meaningful, I’m going to have to step out of my comfort zone a little more often.

That being said, I think it’s important that we remember it’s important to get to know yourself outside the routines you’ve grown accustomed to.

As someone who’s spent a fair amount of time enjoying their own company, I sometimes wonder how much of this is genuinely who I am and how much is simply learned to be comfortable with.

Sometimes I’ll catch myself thinking, What do I actually enjoy doing? What experience am I missing out on because I’ve never bothered to try? What kind of people do I connect with when I’m not trying to play a role that fits into another person’s expectations?

Truthfully, I don’t have complete answers to these questions.

Which could be part of the problem. Perhaps I’ve gotten so comfortable with the role I’ve been told to play that I’ve forgotten that it’s not the entirety of who I am. There are people, places and experiences out there that I haven’t made room for yet.

I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with enjoying a quieter life. I also don’t think the size of your friend group, a packed social calendar, or having plans every weekend can’t be enjoyable, because it can be.

But I also don’t think we should confuse being content with being completely fulfilled.

“I don’t think we should confuse being content with being completely fulfilled.”

What I’m getting at is, you can enjoy your own company and still wish you had someone to call when you’re bored.

You can enjoy a quiet evening at home and still occasionally want to get dressed and go somewhere and make memories with people you genuinely enjoy being around.

Maybe all of us, myself included, start thinking that maybe the goal isn’t to become a completely different person or abandon the parts of our life that brings us peace.

Maybe we should try to make a little more room for things that we haven’t experienced yet.

Because as much as I appreciate the luxury of being left alone, I don’t necessarily want to spend the rest of my life with nothing but my own company and a DG receipt to show for it.

And perhaps that’s something I can work on, little by little.

More soon,

Quill