REFLECTIONS IN TIME OF PANDEMIA (AMAZON)

 RETIREMENT, LONELINESS OR SOLITUDE

 

 When in 2015 I decided to retire, it was not because of boredom with my job, but for other reasons. Planning my retirement years was not difficult for me because I knew I was going to write self-help books and autobiographical stories. That was all I thought about when planning ahead those hours with no professional obligations. Despite being a seasoned

psychotherapist, the risk of loneliness didn’t even cross my mind. The first months after leaving my job were busy because I had planned a trip to Europe and, as we all know, travelling is the best antidote for loneliness. Upon my return I started working on my first book, The Second Half of Life: A Woman’s Road to Inner Wisdom and then on its translation to Spanish; and with these projects in mind days and months flew fast into 2016. Having completed that first project, I decided to take a break and find other things to do as well. Although I am a very sociable person and knew well how to reorganize my life as a divorced middle-aged woman, there were moments when I felt that the ceiling was going to cave in. Those were difficult hours that induced me to ponder how to make the best of my moments of solitude. I knew that life is made of friends and aloneness, but it took me a long time to understand that in order to appreciate our solitude we need to undergo a deep spiritual transformation. What kind of transformation? In a few words, we need to expand our consciousness so that, when we are alone, we are not surrounded by empty space. My first task was to work on my self-esteem and value all the good things I had achieved in life. I finally understood that comparing myself with others only leads to a feeling of nihilism. I know that my books are not Nobel Prize material; however, I also know that the ideas they present have helped more than one soul. My second task was to remember all those people I had met through the years that had been good to me one way or another. Making them my ever-present companions filled my moments of solitude with the memory of their affection, so that I very rarely felt alone. My third task was to distance myself from all those who, because of their own pathology, look for vulnerable others to project their toxicity. It is not a coincidence that philosophers like Schopenhauer and Sartre have mentioned the fact that very few people in life can be valuable friends. As a result, I have become more selective, and because I don’t need others to conquer loneliness. I have finally learned to love my solitude