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Solitude on the North Shore

I used to only associate the word solitude with monks and monasteries.  Silent retreats where you sleep in a small room with nothing more than a bible and a view of deer sipping from a babbling brook.  And that somewhat depressing painting of a white-bearded man praying over soup.  Solitude sounded more like getting punished for staying out after curfew than a spiritual practice.

I’ve come to understand solitude as simply time set aside to recharge.  An observance that promotes rest,  peace,  and renewal.  It sounds so easy,  yet I often neglect my need for it.  It doesn’t have to be quiet or involve wearing a brown hooded tunic,  as nice as it’d be not to have to choose your clothes everyday. Continue reading