Solitude

It's 2 o'clock on Thanksgiving Day, and I am alone.

The sky outside my window is oyster gray, and the autumn leaves are pops of orange, gold, and red against it. It is quiet because I have no tv or music playing. It is warm because the oven was used for baking a vanilla creme cake earlier, which sets on my kitchen table now, cooling and waiting for the creme and the chocolate glaze. There is a vegan turkey roasting in the oven now, and when that is done, in will go a sweet potato and an apple- both rubbed in coconut oil and sprinkled with cinnamon. I will then saute some julienne sliced green beans in butter and garlic. This will be my meal on the day of thanks.

I am thankful for quiet, solitary moments like this, when I can relax and be my whole self because no one is watching, no one is judging. No one will comment on my plain black clothing, or my messy hair, or my face that is bare without makeup. No one is here to criticize my cooking or judge me silently when I lounge on the couch reading The Bell Jar with freshly painted toe nails.

I am alone. And when I am alone, I am free.