Setting a table for one

Literally and figuratively that is. In the literal sense of setting a table—and to the amusement and wonder of some, I more often than not meticulously prepare, ‘plate,’ and photograph my food. And then there’s the figurative interpretation of setting a table for one — I am living independently on the ‘table of life.’ At least with how it’s been set thus far.

The literal table is pretty straightforward. Color, texture, flavor, aroma, design. My kitchen is a mixed media palette where I can have a creative outlet. It’s simple things like choosing the unexpected — purple Brussels sprouts, orange cauliflower, watermelon radishes — that can elevate the entire experience beyond steamed green vegetables or salad after salad after salad. Eating from a white plate so the colors pop and the design of the food draws you in. Choosing to sit at the table, use a cloth napkin, listen to music, to feel the heat of the winter fire, and the warmth of the summer sun on the patio. Buying yourself flowers now and again. Collectively these make setting a table for one worth every bit of extra thought and effort. They fuel my soul.

Buy yourself flowers. Choose the purple Brussels sprouts. Sit at the table and throw on some good tunes.

Then there is the figurative table. Life itself as the table and it’s set for one. Being comfortable with quiet, with being on my own. I don’t feel ‘alone,’ as I know I have an incredible circle of friends, family, colleagues. But living independently at this time in my life provokes questions that take me back to my childhood, and has led me to think about how this journey has played out as chapter 49 unfolds.

“We live, in fact, in a world starved for solitude, silence, and private: and therefore starved for meditation and true friendship.” ~ C.S. Lewis

What exactly has led me down this path of peaceful solitude, instilled discipline and work ethic, driven my competitive spirit — and at the same time brewed a longing for acceptance and deeper connection? Do I prefer being on my own because I grew up as an only child? Does my drive and work ethic come from always being pushed to do better versus being coddled as a kid? Does the fact that I lived at 32 different addresses by the time I was 30 years old play a role in how I find comfort in habit and simplicity now as an adult? Do I seek more meaningful relationships because I didn’t have a close-knit family upbringing like many of those around me?

“Solitude and Loneliness. They seem very similar on the outside, but the only characteristic both have in common is the state of physical solitude. The capacity to experience true solitude comes from an inner richness. It is this inner depth that causes us to focus our entire being towards our passions.”

So many questions. But sitting at this table for one, I know this.

Everything I need to be happy starts in my heart, and only I can do whatever it takes to smile always, take the high road, laugh more, be kind, live all-in.

Everything I want to be the happiest I can be, I’m not sure I’ve found yet. I’ve embarked on this ‘year of hell yes’ to perhaps help me uncover whatever — or whoever — or wherever that might be. I’m taking leaps of faith that some say may be crazy. I’m okay being vulnerable at the risk of it hurting like hell, or the reward of it leading to something I’ve maybe never known.

I’m saying ‘hell yes’ when otherwise I may have said no.

And I encourage you to try it now and again — set a table for one. It gives you time to think, to grow, to reflect, to wonder, to dream, and to take a few notes for what the next chapter may hold…

“Solitude is the great teacher, and to learn its lessons you must pay attention to it.” ~ Deepak Chopra