I sit alone, under the shade of the old maple as the breeze gently sings through the boughs, the leaves dancing in perfect synchrony. Solitude in this moment is not lonely, but rather cherished…I am never truly alone. I hear the whisper of the air moving around me, calling my name in a language long ago forgotten. I feel the energy languidly flowing from the ground beneath me, into every cell of my being. A butterfly flutters by, wings as soft as a secret. And for a moment, all is right.