Goldsworthy and solitude

Friday night Danny and I watched Rivers and Tides, a documentary about Andy Goldsworthy, renowned for creating ephemeral outdoor sculptures with natural materials. It was an excellent meditative film. It began in Nova Scotia, presumably in Minas Basin, noted for the world’s highest tides. It’s near Brier Island, where my daughters and I spent a memorable day last summer. Goldsworthy worked on the tidal flats, making offerings to the ocean.

I was struck by the statement that he savours time alone; people drain his energy. This is was one my core dilemmas.

I wonder how to balance solitude with polyamory. I have considered relationships this way: when you love deeply enough, it overflows to others. I cannot imagine restricting myself to a single partner. But what if our relationship requires as much energy as I’m comfortable expending on intimacy? I’ve enjoyed trying to spend more time with various friends lately, but it spreads me thin. This weekend I’ve been content to be entirely, quietly with him.

I don’t know which perspective to take: whether I’m cheating myself by isolating from more social opportunities, or whether I should embrace introversion and the heart of creativity that flourishes in my monk’s cell.