Owl Wisdom

The Hermitess knows solitude is not the same as disconnection, and she is alive and vibrant in her own unique way. People may wonder what she does with all her solitude. Her family wonders if she’s secretly taking drugs—like dots or shrooms—because her drawings are so wonderfully wacky and weird. Her knitting friends see her many projects coming to life, while secretly wondering if she ever sleeps (she does). There is no drama. She is very good at noticing what keeps her attached to the world.

She makes lists. This one got out of hand, not dissimilar to her current knitting obsession, but that is a topic for a different time.

(it is not short, by the way, skip ahead if you wish)

• A walk on the beach, especially in winter

• Going outside to dance in rain

• Feel the sun, especially on one’s face (even after a cancer removal)

• Hug someone

• Look at art

• Listen to music

• Hear children playing

• Solve a problem with another person

• Write, Paint, Draw, Sketch

• A daily poop

• Walk in the woods

• Watch a sunset and a sunrise

• Smile often

• Smash one’s face into a dog’s side

• Watch a dog run, especially on a beach

• The rumble of a train with the promise of movement

• Step into a warm shower after a workout

• Practice yoga, the slow kind with deep breathing

• Drink a tasty frozen blend

• Feeling one’s feet touch the floor in the morning

• Cook or bake and eat or share the food

• Watch fog roll in

• Float in a body of water

• Feel cold

• Breathe deeply

• Talk to a friend

• See a baby lamb in a field

• Spend time with family

• Hear good news about someone

• Hear sirens, and pray

• Sneeze

• Slip under the covers at night

• The mental energy when about to take off on a journey

• Getting home after a trip

• Talk

• Build a fire

• Watch a fire

• Looking out the window at trees

• Text my children

• Getting enough rest

• Take a nap, especially with dogs nearby

• Eat lunch outside

• Help someone

• Dream

• Talk on the phone

• Help someone else

• Paddle on a lake or open body of water

• Stare into the blue sky

• Notice a fly smashing on a window

• Read a magazine, cover to cover

• Watch a bee collect pollen on its legs

• Have a funny text conversation

• The first morning sip of coffee

• Clean teeth

• Clean hair

• Dreaming, oh already mentioned, must be important

• Writing a list like this one

• Ride a bike

• See cows in a field from a bike

• Greet and compliment a stranger

• Thank a sanitation worker

• Smell garbage

• Smell flowers

• Eat the first blackberries off the vine

• Pick strawberries

• Find one’s way to a new place

• Get mail

• Send mail

• Pluck whiskers

• Clean one’s eyeglasses

• Organize stuff

• Get rid of stuff

• Try on new shoes

• Hear birds chirping

• Watch an otter swim

• Watch an eagle soar

• Realize blessings

• Hear distant freeway noise

• Know a neighbor is in their yard

• Sit under a tree

• Take a nap in a park

• Smell fresh cut grass

• Drink water

• Listen to a dramatic full-cast audiobook

• Make plans in a planner

• Schedule a foot massage

• Have the foot massage

• Hold hands

• Hug, still important

• Lick (or suck) a popsicle

• Make a sandwich with too much deli meat

• Eat a pickle

• Did I say sleep yet?

• Oh, I can’t feel alive while asleep

• Sleep well

• When nature wakes us

See, I told you it was long.

As you can see, she may spend a great deal of time alone, but she is not sealed off. Or at least she doesn’t think so. She keeps the world at hand through noticing the weather, animals, work, food, sound, other people, small rituals, bodily sensations (and base functions), usefulness, anticipation, and more.

The Hermitess understands that we do not stay alive because of one grand purpose, rule-following, or a flawless wellness routine.

She understands that we do not stay alive because of one grand purpose, rule-following, or a flawless wellness routine. The Hermitess lingers at the edges of a frayed society. Her imagination keeps worrying at many force-fed solid truths, looking for cracks where something more bearable, generous, or alive might grow.

There is evidence everywhere that things exist in relationship, and she keeps looking for the connections. Orderly hierarchy and perfection seem more like contrived inventions than anything available in a Hermitess’s world.

A sunset is not necessarily more alive than a pickle. An eagle is not necessarily more important than clean eyeglasses. A loving hug can happen beside a garbage container, in a boat, or at a hospital. Freeway noise, a bee, a nap, and hummingbirds all matter when we notice them and even when we don’t.

In today’s illustration, the Hermitess is upside down, yet the owl is upright. From the Hermitess’s perspective, of course, the owl is upside down. There is no single correct orientation. Meanwhile, life is swimming, floating, reaching, rowing, bubbling, holding hands, looking back, looking inward, and even forward. Most importantly, now matters.

Wisdom is plucking whiskers, smelling toast burning in the toaster, sipping hot coffee, and noticing a fly smashing into a window all at the same time and then writing all about it on a keyboard.

As if all this is normal. Wisdom tells us so.

Meanwhile, in real life, my Oura Ring keeps telling me to get up and walk around. Solitary writing takes more sitting time than our electronic devices understand.

If you enjoy pickles, wobbly ladders, permission to sleep, and philosophical wanderings, subscribe to The Hermitess Papers.