Solitude: noun…seclusion…private space…isolation
Once upon a long time ago, I dreamed or imagined a white walled space with one chair, one lamp, and a bookcase filled with fine volumes. Oil and pastel seascapes graced nearby walls. Several large Boston ferns framed the floor to ceiling windows overlooking beautiful perennial gardens. I envisioned myself there, in happy seclusion.
That image was clearly opposite of reality. As a wife and mother, teacher and daughter, my days were crammed with endless responsibilities: tasks, chores, schedules, cooking, cleaning, chauffeuring, etc. In every season, it seemed, our three young boys were always playing on three different sports’ teams: soccer, football, hockey, baseball, and others. There were balls of all sizes and shapes everywhere. The struggles to keep the practice and game uniforms, hats, gloves, racquets, cleats and ski boots at the ready required dedication and concentration, and the washing machine at high use.
My mother said, “Don’t forget to breathe.” And the food! The quantities and preparation of sandwiches, cookies, and snacks, in correctly labeled brown paper bags was constant and endless. All of this occurred years before fast food drive-through buildings existed on most corners.
My father said, “This too shall pass.” And, of course, it did. We, the parents, met the challenges.
Now, decades past that long ago, I can sit in my chair near a window amongst my books and enjoy the neat and orderly quiet with my spouse. Now I have time to watch the spider hiding in the outside corner of the window, waiting. His magnificently woven web is dull and invisible to the solitary mosquito who staggers into it. My experience tells me that the mosquito is doomed.
Now I have time to ruminate about characters in books and watch bugs. I can recall and redefine memories. I can watch the gray morning fog lift from the lake and track cumulous cloud-shadows as they move across the White Mountains.
One day I watched a single, small ant charge across the brick patio. He stopped short next to a dead dragonfly, then scurried around it before trying to push and then pull that silent creature from all angles. Seemingly defeated, he raced off. Shortly he reappeared with three ant helpers and appeared to give them job assignments. Soon, that giant airplane body of a dragonfly moved slowly and steadily towards a depression and small opening between the bricks. A conference seemed to take place. Big dragonfly…small entrance. Those four ants dismantled that corpse into smaller pieces that slid easily into the unseen storage cupboard beneath those bricks. It had been recycled into a food bank.
I witnessed brilliant work that day and asked myself, “Can ants think?”
I don’t know for sure, but personal observation supports the possible theory.
Five Somewhat Related Observations:
One: That original ant had been traveling along alone in solitude minding his own business, like Moses had been when he heard a challenge from God, like Noah had been when he received the word that God wanted him to build an ark.
Both Old Testament desert stories developed into a need to develop a plan. Moses gathered 12 strong leaders, one from each of his tribes, and assigned them leadership duties while he was away. His people needed Ten Commandments to teach them societal behaviors. Noah’s task to build a “floatable something” to withstand a never-heard-of flood must have seemed ridiculous, insane. Exact dimensions were given and followed by the recruits Noah convinced to help.
Two: Recycling was a fantastic idea which turned into a national program born of necessity…like food banks.
Three: Five years ago, St. John the Baptist Church in tiny Sanbornville, NH teetered on the edge. Some experienced and dedicated folks heard the word and responded. They formed a team, assessed obstacles, overcame objections, defined possibilities and assembled ideas which blossomed into a group design-and-build plan with blueprints that required creative funding.
Today the walls are up; the roof is on!
Four: America, like all other nations of our planet, has enormous challenges. With smart, educated, experienced and caring leaders, world disasters might be minimized and corrected to become manageable opportunities.
Five: Without this current situation of imposed solitude (due to age, deafness, and world-wide COVID-19), I might never have encountered that particular morning drama of the solitary ant and observed the far-ranging outcome of his effort.
