I think, like a number of writers, I tend to live in my head when I’m not in my favorite coffee shop studying people, their gestures and habits. And occasionally overhearing their conversations. (Honestly, I don’t do the last on purpose. Really.) And living in my head, for me, seems to consist of hiding out in my home. I justify this by saying, “I have to do some more networking/writing/plotting/come up with new story ideas/clean the office, kitchen, bathrooms’, whatever ad nauseam.
But someone I know brought up a very good point: I have to plant my feet outside my home on the cement sidewalk / grass lawn on a daily basis and let the world touch me. Let the world into my head so that I don’t rattle around in there all by myself.
Don’t get me wrong--I’m not a hermit. I speak to my family. I go out with friends regularly, I go to my writers meetings, I interact with people on a daily basis (even if it is the barista at Starbucks or the concierge in my building) and I take time to enjoy myself.
I recently started toting my camera with me whenever I go out. In the city, sometimes we have smog alerts and while this is a bad thing for people and the environment, it makes for great photographs with misty, moody shots. And it connects me to my community.
So even if one is on their own, one is not really alone unless one doesn’t make an effort to reach out. I am surrounded by people. I am involved with my community, my family, my friends and the people in the coffee shop (even if they don’t know it ;)).
So go out, plant your feet on the cement and meet yourself and your world.