alone, together

I am sitting at a table at the far end of my workplace foyer, earbuds in, eyes on my pad, as I brainstorm ideas for my next project. I have chosen this spot carefully. I don't feel too well and don't want to talk much. My colleagues don't say anything to me as I carry on, not acknowledging their gathering and gleeful conversation. 

They have just decided to move to another end of the ground floor, completely out of my sight and bounds, and something interesting happens. They call out to me: "Pearl, Pearl." I take off my pods as she's about to try a third time. 

"Yes?" I say. 

"We're moving over there. Come, come, we don't want to leave you here alone," she projects. 

I find myself slightly amused. I want to be alone, but I have learned over time that there's such a thing as being alone, together. 

So, I say, "Coming," grab my bag and walk with her. The group have found their new spot, and I write this sitting in a cubicle behind them. 

I remember hiding in my primary school’s stairwell - overwhelmed, desperate for some quiet, desperate to be alone. I also remember watching others, wanting to belong and wondering if I ever could. Where did it all mush up? My constant desire for solitude, the rejection of myself by others, and my own refusal to be included? I am not quite sure. 

But as I walked together with my colleague, I agreed: this was the sweet spot. 

I always have, and always will, belong with my fellow human beings. 

And even when I want to be alone, when there’s an invitation, and it’s possible, I can say yes.  

I can be by myself, together. 

I think about how we are always part of the bigger picture, even when life feels fragmented or like the pieces don’t quite fit. There’s always a greater story unfolding around us, even in the moments when we feel removed. 

Think of the stars, all seemingly scattered, but when we study the constellations, the patterns are there - every star playing its role, contributing heavily to the beauty of the universe. 

When we try to pick out anything by itself, we find it hitched to everything else in the universe.

John Muir

You are essential. 

Even with your idiosyncrasies, your struggles... even in your solitude, your imperfection... you are part of something extraordinary. You are shaping the bigger picture, just as the bigger picture is shaping you. 

This is what I hope you remember for as long as you can. 

With that in mind, as life is getting fuller on my end, I’ve decided to ease this newsletter into a monthly rhythm. This change will allow me to continue to show up here with heart and intention. 

Of course, if something time-sensitive or special comes up, I’ll still reach out in between. But moving forward, you can expect these letters like clockwork in the last week of every month - full of life, updates, and whatever sappy, funny, or random thing my heart wants to share. 

I have thoroughly enjoyed writing to you weekly and hope you continue to take care of yourselves until I catch you in the next note.  

 
Pearl ♡ 

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