Folk who meet me, encounter a man who is friendly, who smiles a lot, and who as the “Mystery Worshipper” at St. Hilary’s Church (earlier this year) said “is jovial”.
I come across as a very gregarious person.
At heart, I am a loner. More than anything, I like to be alone.
Give me a “stage” and I am that apparently gregarious person. All of life is acting - and I can play that role so well.
It’s fun while it lasts. But I’ve often said that my epitaph should be “He played to a thousand audiences, but never received the accolades he felt that he richly deserved”.
“Off stage” I retreat into that “loner”. (I am happiest alone, but I am NOT lonesome).
I putter around the house. The T.V. and radio are rarely on, for I love the silence.
My cat Ada is the dozer. She spends most each day eating or sleeping.
The other cat, Adelaide, is a prowler. She wanders around the house all day, looking for Lord knows what.
I am an “Adelaide”. I prowl around my home, always restless, and always quite contented.
I am content with my life as a loner, but with one caveat. I frequently remind myself that to be alone is good, but to isolate is dangerous.
So I get out and about, to Resurrection House, to Church and Church events, for meals with friends, and laughter with Ben.
I love to have people in my home, and I entertain quite often.
But oh the blessed joy when they go home, and once again I can be safely alone.