Containing Multitudes
Weaving a way through this wildly magical and uncertain world
December 1, 2024
If it’s December, it’s time to start thinking about New Year’s resolutions.
It’s just a month on a calendar, but it’s also a good time for endings and beginnings:
Wrapping things up that you may have dreaded or left dangling or that you’re just ready to be done with can be a present to yourself;
Setting intentions for habits you want to change, or new experiences to try for the first time, January 1 offers a clear break with the past. New year, new you!
I recognize that it might require some intentionally carved-out time to get into the mood for this kind of internal housekeeping. And that, in this season of jolly, requires a different kind of preparation.
When I stumble on this simple reflection posed by the Irish poet Pádraig Ó Tuama, it seems the right moment to muse on how to be alone with yourself.
In the interest of sharing, here is a brief five-step practice I tapped for attuning to myself alone—and the gift I found inside.
{breathe}
Stage One: Drop into being alone. How does it feel?
ALONE IS Annoying Bothersome Scary Okay Like--are we there yet? Unlikely Tedious Engaging Like--aren't we there yet? Yup--nope {breathe} Arduous Worrying Fearful Unlikely Let's go. . . YELLING!
Well. . .this is going well! :(
{breathe}
Stage Two: Who am I, alone? Settle in for a listen.
Walt Whitman said, “I am large. I contain multitudes.”
And the part of me that’s showing up right now isn’t having this whole alone-thing. She’s annoyed, anxious, anything but into it, anywhere but here, any time but now.
It’s the same feeling I used to get making an “artist date” with myself, a practice from Julia Cameron’s, The Artist’s Way.
What does it say when I plan a date with myself and I don’t show up?
Is it Cyber Monday yet? Need to get to my holiday shopping. This draft will save, right?
Ghosted.
{breathe}
Stage Three. Commit to to being alone with myself for four short minutes. Now, what comes up?
{breathe}
A tangle of voices. Everyone screaming about what’s coming. What to do. How to survive. How to stay alive: Eat this. Don’t eat that. Panic! The world is coming to an end. Don’t panic: things will work out. Act now! Just wait. Be afraid! Nothing to worry about. Speak out! Hide! Keep going. . .
STOP!
This cacophony ringing in my head makes it impossible to discern what’s happening in my own mind. And yet, that is exactly what the poet’s prompt is calling on me to do.
In my aloneness, I want to block out everyone else’s voice so I can hear my own. What is it that I am calling on myself to do?
{breathe}
An inner voice suggests I cultivate my intuition. Whatever I need to know to navigate life— I already know.
Trust in that.
{breathe}
RESOLVED FOR 2025: I am the only one who can discern what's best for me. {breathe}
Following this guidance alone does not make for an easy path. I will be put to the test. The practice: remain true to what I am getting, to following my gut instinct. To tune in to my body—am I tensed? Relax. To be in conversation with myself at any—and every—level I choose: body, mind, emotion, spirit.
Perhaps, on rare occasion, I will be able to bridge these multitudes, to bring every one together in a chorus, harmonious or not; to tap into some deeper expression hidden inside.
Or not. Likely, being alone with myself won’t always feel like a gift. But the practice is worthy.
Perhaps you’d like a roadmap to being alone. While I can’t say what will work best for you, what I can offer to you is what I’ve experienced.
It may feel ABSOLUTELY AWFUL. Monkey mind is a true impediment. Nothing like your own resistance to muck up your best intentions.
Still, keeping your own company, claiming your agency, means blocking out dissonance. It does not mean ignoring all that is going on: that’s a path to ignorance. Ignoring leads to ignorance: do not let ignorance take hold.
You will be tested in this practice. Over and over. For me, it’s because I am susceptible to the siren call of caring too much. It is both a strength and a vulnerability.
I am wont to give in to distractions. Be discerning.
When distractions come, notice them, but don’t let that squirrel over there take you out of your own precious company. Drop into being alone as often as you need to listen to your inner voice.
Practice. Whenever possible, offer this example, this listening, this agency, this discernment, to those you love. Those who can breathe it in.
Stage Four: Reflect on what this practice, this being alone, is showing me.
I am not the glue that holds the world together. Everyone has a different path. They will do and think whatever they will. They alone are responsible for the choices they make—and their consequences. They contain their own multitudes.
{breathe}
Stage Five: Drop once more into being alone. How do I feel now?
ALONE
Warms my heart
In an outside-in world when
Salience means tuning up
Elevating above the daily noise
Resolved in my commitment
{breathe}
That gift wrapped inside being alone? Practiced regularly, it can make you WISER.
“This, above all: to thine own self be true, / And it must follow, as the night the day, / Thou canst not then be false to any man” ~ William Shakespeare (from Hamlet)
{breathe}
Containing Multitudes
How do you envision navigating a perhaps-multitudinous 2025? How might being alone with yourself be a tool for you to find your resolve—or not?
How does that feel?
Buckle up and keep breathing: we may be in for a bumpy ride!