As a youngster, I think I always knew when my father needed some solitude. He was a painter by trade in rural Missouri, USA, where he had work 6 out of the 12 months of the year. We lived too far from a major city for him to have regular work. So we did the best we could and lived a good frugal lifestyle where he spent the wintertime raising pigs or a couple calves to take to the butcher come spring. Most people back then called that Poor.
Playing solitaire was his ‘time’.
And I’m glad I was quiet enough to sit and watch and learn. He was pretty cool like that.
He was also a daily Bible reader in later years. Not a lot of people know that. I am also truly thankful to have had that example to follow.
My mother is a living example to me of one who excels in solitude with her talents. She is always keeping her hands busy. Ecclesiastes 9:10 says, “Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might;”. This defines my wonderful mother. Whether sewing, making jams, jellies, or reading novel after novel, she finishes what she begins whole-heartedly. Rarely does she have a UFO(Un-Finished-Object) lying in her stash.
For me, solitude is respresented by my time to play music. Alone. Unhindered by life’s stress. Uninterrupted by anything.
And just for fun to lighten the mood of this post, I’m thinking I should change my answering machine message to a 40 minute Banjo Solo 🙂
Is there 40 minutes on it???