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I spend a lot of time in solitude.
The purity I find in those precious moments of being with myself is something I’ve never found anywhere else.
Sometimes I lie on the grass beneath the shade of the trees, gazing up at the sky.
On other days, I walk along the rice fields,and maybe it sounds funny, but I listen to the frogs.
Sometimes, I talk to myself—not with words, but with thoughts that pass through my mind like a gentle breeze.
In those moments, it feels like everything gains meaning in the silence.
Within this solitude, there’s no sadness, no noise… only a quiet kind of peace that can’t be found anywhere else.
And in these simple moments, I find myself—again and again.
Sometimes I think solitude is a gift life gives us, to help us reconcile with ourselves.
Not to distance us from others, but to bring us closer to that inner voice that often gets lost in the world’s noise.
In this stillness, even the simplest things begin to hold meaning.
Everything is calm… and yet within that silence, a whole world of feeling and unspoken words flows through.
And maybe it’s in moments like these,effortless and quiet,that we truly return to ourselves…
Softly, humbly, just like nature itself. 22 replies
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