A few months ago, I found myself in a really awesome, unique position.

My company had some business in New Orleans.  I was the only one available to shore up the last minute details this business required, so I was nominated to go.

Apparently the week I had to be there, there was a large conference being hosted downtown.  All the hotels and flights were booked. My company had to pay to fly me first class to and from New Orleans.  I had to book a very expensive hotel room downtown, since there were so few left.

Once I landed, I immediately got to work.  After I finished up, I headed to my hotel room and was actually provided a free upgrade to a suite.  I take the elevator up to my room, on the 11th floor, in downtown New Orleans. Not only was it a spacious and gorgeous hotel room, but I had 3 different walls, facing 3 different directions, of pure windows.  I could take in the whole city from where I was. It was breathtakingly beautiful.

The kicker?  I was all alone.

I took the evening and walked down to Bourbon Street, alone.  I went into a restaurant and had an incredible cajun meal, alone.  I stopped in at a jazz bar, grabbed a drink and enjoyed some Jazz music, alone.  I walked up and down the Bourbon street area, snapping a few photos, and peering into shops, clubs and restaurants, alone.  

The next morning work took first priority.  After finalizing the details there, I had a few more hours to burn before my flight back home.  So I ventured to a different part of the city and enjoyed a wonderful mediterranean meal with a glass of wine.  Again, all alone.

I am not a big social media person – so I didn’t post about my adventure.  I know many people use social media to help provide them a sense of community and belonging.  I, typically, feel drained with social media as I thrive on more deep, connected interactions even though I do maintain social media accounts.  Social media just feels a little too superficial in the interaction department, for my taste.

I did have the company of a few text exchanges with Aly and my guy.  Which helped. Until I needed to preserve my battery life in order to ensure I made my walk back to the hotel safely…  And as I sat on that night in the Jazz club, being serenaded by the wonderful sounds emitting from their instruments, I just realized… life is truly served best (for me) when I can experience these moments with those I love.

I have no problem doing things alone.  I actually deeply love to be alone (I am an introvert at heart). I often can waste whole days to myself.  And while I really did enjoy many parts of this trip, it just felt, well, lonely.  And something occurred to me while thinking upon this concept…

I was trying to identify when it is that I love to be alone.  And if I am honest? It’s in my own home. And then it occurred to me – It’s in the place I have surrounded myself with memories and reminders of the people I love.  It’s the couch I bought and now share with my guy. It’s the painting I painted, inspired by my guy. It’s the lamp my guy built, or the comforter we share, or the picture of Aly next to my bed.  It’s the mug Aly bought me that I am drinking my coffee from, the soundbar my sister gave me, the blanket I am wrapped up in gifted by my (almost) sister-in-law, or the pjs in in that my mother bought me for Christmas.  And it’s all the pictures of all the people I love.

I am not saying that I only love to be around things that are linked to those I love.  I also have art that I created on my own that adorns our walls and it reminds me of the times I put energy into trying to create something bigger than I thought I could create.  It reminds me of stepping out of a very tumultuous season in my life, and trying to alter my life and express myself through my art. But even those memories come with the new faces I met in my art classes, or teachers who inspired, encouraged or moved me.  And those works only seem to compliment all the items that exist in my home that share another souls direct involvement.

My home is the place I love to be alone, because it’s a reminder of how I am actually not alone.  Its my safe space to exist, while surrounded by all these reminders of love that are present (or were present) in my life through other souls.  

My home is where I may be alone, but I am reminded, I am not alone at all.  

I am alone, together.

Cheers.