It's the middle of the night, I'm awake and alone. This is not an unprecedented event, for I've experienced this particular circumstance many times. This is the fifth draft of the first two sentences, rewritten to their present form to eliminate the potential misconception I write in metaphor.
The cause for my current nocturnal consciousness is a work project, requiring me to burn some "midnight oil" in the interest of our business. The precise reasons why this is necessary are buried in the particular politics of my office and a definite commitment to our customers. This is not readily understood by others in my field, nor often by me. I don't really mind it and at certain times (even this one), it caters to my primal nature. Still, it can be a pain.
There are certain drawbacks, and the one on which my mind now centers is the isolation I feel at this hour. This is not a despairing isolation, but it is admittedly lonely. I have to be up and alert so that I do not meet the challenges of my tasks with a dull mind, but there are long periods of down time to get through. In order to get through those and return to a task ready and able, I must find some way of occupying my mind. For example, I'm writing this entry. However, I'd rather be talking to someone, kept in company, and have a source of good cheer. It's quiet, for the world (that in immediate vicinity and only mostly) sleeps.
How interesting it would be to have a good friend in Asia, whom I could call and chat with when the hours become small.
There are times when one purposefully seeks isolation; times of meditation. Camping on a hilltop, early morning car trip departures, a midnight hike through a well-known wood. There is something especially oppressive, however, about recognizing isolation in an urban area. I live in an apartment; there are people above and below me, perhaps feet away through my wall. Yet, I know them no more than by their passing glance as we leave for work in the morning or are out of doors for some other reason. All these souls, with independent thoughts and desires, experiences, talents and skills, and unique personalities living in such close proximity without knowledge of one another. It is thus an extraordinarily poignant thing to be alone in the midst of so much life.
What is it about the day that deafens my desire to reach out, and about night that this desire is amplified? Would it be different were I not single? Perhaps. Regardless, such occasions as these will arise.
Fortunately, my night ends earlier than I anticipated. I am about ninety minutes ahead of schedule, and could have added about sixty to that had I been more attentive in a few areas. I hope this will be a great Saturday for you. As for me, there stand only a few hours sleep between now and the lake.
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