Eight Ways to Savor Alone Time
My husband is on a service and photography trip to Nicaragua, and we have the kind of marriage where we happily let each other do our own thing. I kissed him a quick public goodbye in the middle of an artist party and he drove himself to the airport.
But I am finding, as I often do, that I am more attached to having another person around than I thought, and the transition to being alone resulted in insomnia, some free-floating and irrelevant anxiety, and a lack of “zip” or sense of anticipation about much.
In short, I was missing the hubby. I’m a little embarrassed about it. I firmly believe in cultivating a taste for one’s own company, and in the second week of his absence, I’ve begun rediscovering these joys.
- It’s good, in general principle, to practice aloneness tolerance. After all, we never know when we will find ourselves in an alone phase.
- Eat whatever you want, whenever you want. I ate eggs for dinner one night, a yogurt another. My hubby, a “3 squares” meat and potatoes man, would not have considered this dinner in any form.
- I get up and read or work anytime throughout the night, without worrying about waking him up. I also took a nap at 9:30 a.m. one day.
- Braless, nude, or unshaven. Sometimes all three.
- Hosing myself down with perfume, lighting scent candles, and using smelly hair product—the hubby’s allergic to scents. I’m lighting another incense stick as I write this. (Whee! I think the fumes have gone to my head, this feels so naughty.)
- Things are the way you left them, when you left, and that’s tidy-ahhh!
- Catching up all the movies and shows he’d hate on Netflix. (In my case, that’s Sex and the City, chick flicks, LOST, and Prison Break)
- Blasting music at all hours. He’s not a music person and I am, so Pandora rules the house now.
These are just a few of the many tiny rewards of alone time. What are some of yours? How have you cultivated a taste for your own company?