“Writing is a lonely occupation at best. Of course there are stimulating and even happy associations with friends and colleagues, but during the actual work of creation the writer cuts himself off from all others and confronts his subject alone. He moves into a realm where he has never been before — perhaps where no one has ever been. It is a lonely place, even a little frightening.” ~Rachel Carson, writer and marine biologist  (Thanks to BrainPickings.com)

The biggest complaint I hear from writers is having the time and place to write, meaning in most cases that they live a life full of others, and loving them or not, those people interfere with their solitude. No doubt we enjoy most of these interfering people or we would not invite them in. But when we let anyone and everyone in, that insinuates something else, possibly a sign that we are running from something.

Being alone allows a writer to swim deeper into their minds. Being with people robs us of that internal meditation that has the power to create the most remarkable characters, themes, plots, and dramatic scenes.

Maybe many writers fear being alone. We fear what will swim up from the depths of that well. Fear those thoughts that don’t float on the surface and bask in the sun, but instead those thoughts that might border on taboo, wear on our raw places, or once allowed to appear, cut us with a million little slices.

Often we are afraid to visit that part of our mind that reveals the scariest, edgiest thoughts. I often think it’s being afraid of ourselves and what we are capable of. I sometimes think there are a zillion cozies in the world for fear of delving deeper into more complicated ideas, however dark they may be. Not that they are all dark, but we might not fear going to this private place if they were all light and happiness, would we?

And of course we have to enjoy our own company, and a lot of us just are not there yet. The writer willing to come face to face with their innermost workings is the writer with more fodder for storytelling. It can be exhausting facing one’s self alone with no other distractions, alone in silence, alone without another opinion in the room, alone without a smart phone to distract when thoughts get deep and many. But alone can be incredibly eye opening. Dare to be alone. You may learn to enjoy that company and its magic.

LOVE AFTER LOVE
by Derek Walcott

The time will come
when, with elation,
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror,
and each will smile at the other’s welcome,
and say, sit here. Eat.
You will love again the stranger who was your self.
Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you

all your life, whom you ignored
for another, who knows you by heart.
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,

the photographs, the desperate notes,
peel your own image from the mirror.
Sit. Feast on your life.