Gracious solitude

Sometimes I turn the music off. Leave the computer. Go sit by my living-room window and watch the world as it presents itself. Or, I go up on the roof: to breathe in, breathe out; breathe in, breathe out.
If I can remember, or be bothered, I do a short series of tai chi exercises.
Whatever.
I make a point of finding time to sit, listen, and watch. Since there are moments when I now feel comfortable in my own skin, this exercise is pleasant, calming, meditative. Even if it is only for five minutes, I always feel renewed.
There are no cars or trucks to speak of on a little island in the South China Sea. The ambient noise hereabouts is of birds, school kids in the playground. Very occasionally, a helicopter will come in to the helicopter pad to pick someone up and take them to a hospital in Hong Kong.
I am very fortunate to be alive, to live in such a place.
The Guardian has an interesting article about retreats.
Towards the end of the article are four lines from a long and beautiful poem by William Wordsworth:

When from our better selves we have too long
Been parted by the hurrying world, and droop
Sick of its business, of its pleasures tired,
How gracious, how benign, is Solitude;

From the wonderful Preludes, Book Fourth.