I digress from my “creative musings” this morning.  Sorry.  But I have to pass on the thoughts that come to mind on this journey.

While I was living in a tent for a month and a half was a truly enlightening experience, it wasn’t quite the self imposed exile, off the grid existence that many may think.  I would go to town every couple of days to touch reality and commune with other humans.

Being alone is hard.   I’m not really used to that.  It is part of the journey I travel but it has become the difficult part of that journey.  Alone is nice, for a short time, but after a while it stretches to loneliness.  That is tough.  Especially when you’re not used to it, not prepared.

The first month alone in the desert was very healing for me.  I was able to put thoughts together.  Able to plan my future life.  It was a reboot.  Reboot of the mind, body and soul.  And it worked.  I am ready for a new start, a new life.

But I really didn’t find this alone.  What I found was that I’m not alone.

I found that there are people, friends and some folks I don’t even know, that share in this experience and are there for me.  Some in thought, some with emails and texts of support, but some here, in person, that have been ambassadors to my cause.  Saviors to me.  People that have been in my corner, even when I didn’t see them.  Some old friends from childhood, some new ones that have come to the rescue.  It’s been a pretty serious resource center for me, without which I could not be doing what I am doing.

So I move from a tent to a studio.  A dream come true.  But that dream comes with some pretty serious work attached to it.  Just moving into a space doesn’t mean life suddenly is filled with creating great photographs and big money from generous clients.  There is a lot of work involved with setting up a creative space.  And that just doesn’t happen by itself.

Yes, I lived in the desert, in a tent, for just over 40 days.  I was there by myself, but I was never alone.  And now, I have a studio.  I am here, by myself, moving in, building, cleaning and setting things up, but I am not alone.

No one could do this alone.

My friends are here.  Helping.  In ways that can not be easily explained.  Always there for a cup of coffee or to feed me breakfast.  There to have a beer and encourage me.  There to be a sounding board.  There with a hug when needed and to celebrate the successes.

I wish there was a way for me to express how important the gift of friendship has been to me.  They give selflessly, with no strings attached.  This gift is not a loan, expecting something in return with interest.  They give because that’s the way they are.  They give with their heart, with no expectations except friendship in return.

I can’t list the friends or what the have done for me for fear of leaving someone out of the list, which is precariously long.  What I can do is say thank you.  Without my friends, without the support, without the love and generosity of loving people, my journey would have ended short.  It continues because of people.  Loving, caring people that give.

I was in the desert in a tent alone for many days.  Now I’m in an empty building, by myself, that echoes with jazz music.

By myself, but never alone.