Honoring my Era of Solitude

For so long, my daily life involved showing up—consistently, visibly, and in service to something larger. I believed in community. I built it over the course of six years.

After that chapter came to a close, I searched for the replacement - of my leadership role, of the bright spirits who surrounded me, of the sense of clarity and direction. It didn't come. Not in any form that made sense, that worked, that felt aligned. And over the past year, something has quietly unraveled, in a sometimes painful but often subtle loosening. The kind of transformation that happens when your body tells the truth faster than your mind can explain it.

I needed to change on a much deeper level. The Universe would not allow me to replace what was and continue on. Now I find myself in what I call an era of solitude - a season marked not by isolation, but by disengagement. Not that I was exactly extroverted before, but by the nature of owning an aerial arts studio, I was connecting most days of the week. Now, that's gone, and a year later, I’ve stepped back from social media. I’ve stopped going to community events. I’ve limited performances and advertising, and out of a strange series of misalignments, I've released the pressure to show up. I go out sparingly, in the ways that feel perfect to me, usually on roller blades and with my beloved.

And it has been life-giving. I am tested on a regular basis. I'm off Instagram, but people now text me Instagram posts. I've gone quiet, but people are still reaching out. My mind always pulls - I "should" do this thing so I can be nice to that person, or get an opportunity. But I don't want to. I am in a season where I virtually never want to spend my time with someone who isn't close family or my partner. I'm still happy to see people out in the wild, but I'm not devoting time to relationship or community building. And that's kind of something that gets a side-eye these days, but now that I've felt the benefits, I am owning it. I need it. Because - I am in this deep process of learning who I am after my life has changed so deeply. Learning what I want, what feels right, what makes sense. It's about reclaiming the parts of myself that were constantly being leaked into value systems I didn’t fully believe in or settings I genuinely didn't enjoy. It's about remembering that I’m not obligated to be part of anything that doesn't feel aligned, no matter how beautifully it’s worded or how important it claims to be.

Solitude has become the sweetest ally. It has sharpened my discernment, restored my nervous system, and given me a newly emerging sense of self, badly needed after the sudden and traumatic loss of my business, my world, my community. I’ve stopped trying to be responsible for collective healing. Yes, my work and art support that, but right now, I'm focusing on what's most important for me. It's not isolationist, it's not solipsist. I care deeply about the world. And I am finding the right ways to channel that, and participate in this delicate moment in time.

This era may not last forever (at this time, my nervous system wants it to). Regardless, for now, I honor it fully.

If you find yourself in a similar place, know that you're not missing out on anything. You may just be in your own sacred season of stepping back, and diving IN to what is present within you. And that is more important than whatever it is you might be "missing."