“In order to converse with the wild feminine, a woman must temporarily leave the world and inhabit a state of aloneness in the oldest sense of the word. Long ago the word alone was treated as two words, all one. To be all one meant to be wholly one, to be in oneness, either essentially or temporarily. That is precisely the goal of solitude, to be all one. It is the cure for the frazzled state so common to modern women, the one that makes her, as the old saying goes, “leap onto her horse and ride off in all directions.””

(From Clarissa Pinkola Estés’ fine work, Women Who Run With The Wolves, page 316, Chapter 9, Homing: Returning to OneSelf.)

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Last week was a busy one, and the weekend had a fair bit going on too. So on Sunday I was more than ready to take off by myself with a Bonnie Raitt CD and a full tank of gas and go find the ocean. Find it I did, but I didn’t take any pictures. I wasn’t in a “share this” mood. But I did find myself a rock to take home, and put on my windowsill to remind me of that “all-one” place, whenever I’m getting out of sorts.