Alone is not a dirty word, y’all. Be a Rogue Planet – why not?

Where have I been? Why, I’ve been here, there, and yonder! I’ve been working on my new novel. I’ve been editing other writers’ books and novels. I’ve been working on Edge of Arlington website. I was asked to be a regular contributor to Writer Unboxed (poor thangs – they don’t know what they did – I’m hillbilly’ing up they’s space; I’m dirty-footing up they’s respectable blog. Dang!). It’s an honor to write for such a prestigious group and I am grateful. My latest is: Grocery Store Glory (& Angst), (and earlier: A Writer’s Tombstone, Giving Up & Giving In, and as an earlier guest: The Isolated Author).

As well, from November through January, Lil Bear and I traveled by plane to Oregon and stayed 6 whole weeks! Wow! And from there we flew to Arlington, Texas, where we visited a bit, before I rented a Nissan Rogue and drove back to my mountains. It was so danged good to be home but I’m glad I traveled through the holidays instead of . . . being *gasp* ALONE FOR THE HOLIDAYS! That’s not my emphasis, since it wouldn’t have bothered me to be alone for the holidays. I do have friends. I do get out. I’m not completely reclusive. *laugh*

It looked just like this! Snazzy!

How appropriate that I rented a Nissan Rogue—for that’s often how I feel. As if I am a Rogue Planet, spiraled out and beyond away from the Mother Star of its birth, away from other planets, away from the security of that comforting planetary orbit. Wandering through space and time—that word again: Alone.

From Phenomena A SCIENCE SALON: “Rogue planets are homeless worlds. They have neither sunrises nor sunsets, because unlike the planets we’re more familiar with, these lonely worlds aren’t tethered to a star. Instead, they travel in solitary arcs around the Milky Way’s core. Earlier this week, Cosmos: A Spacetime Odyssey, introduced many of its viewers to the concept of these lonely planets. ‘The galaxy has billions of them, adrift in perpetual night. They’re orphans, cast away from their mother stars during the chaotic birth of their native solar systems,’ Neil DeGrasse Tyson says, as a planet emerges from the darkness. ‘Rogue planets are molten at the core, but frozen at the surface. There may be oceans of liquid water in the zone between those extremes. Who knows what might be swimming there?’”

photo credit: NASA-JPL-caltech-R.Hurt

How bleak and sad that sounds. Yet, yes, who knows what might be swimming in there? And until there is someone who wants to find out what is swimming inside of me, who sees my inner self and not just “this body” and who is not afraid of the challenge of someone who is “like me” (for I will never be boring), who can see that I am molten at my core but may sometimes seem to be frozen at the surface, who is kind and trustworthy, a grownup and not a little boy, but please believe me when I say: not perfect for I don’t trust perfection (in looks or manner/personality)—then I prefer to be Alone. Not only prefer it, but desire it, want it, embrace it. It suits me. For even if I find that person or that person finds me, I am not so sure I want to give up my freedom. Perhaps they will feel the same way: yay!

Scientists have discovered many of these rogue planets—some as big as Jupiter. Wandering through space, seemingly lost and without anchor. But who is to say those planets aren’t happy drifting languidly through space? Going where they want when they want. Doing what they want when they want. Continue reading