Everyday hermitage

I’m typically a recluse who prefers the solitude of my studio, at least while working. But last week I’d had enough. My mind was spinning, and my heart was lonely. I needed the company of others.

I emerged from my cave, walked to the co-op, and sat at a silver table with coffee, water, and a writing pad. All around were people. Someone walked by with an airpod in his ear. Two women spoke on their phones; another typed on her laptop.

As people withdraw into their devices, everyday hermitage becomes easier. At this thought, a small moth landed on my upper lip—and I laughed.