Alone But Not Lonely: A Sunday Ramble That Changed Everything

Suprita is an average human with a desire to make every minute of life above average. She is a mom, wife, daughter, fiction lover, budding writer, avid Netflix watcher, extroverted introvert, passionate Human Resources professional, wannabe dancer, small business owner, experimental chef, Pilates enthusiast, and a proud survivor.

But I refuse to be defined—or confined—by labels. I am always learning, always growing, always living, one minute at a time.

My motto in life: Live and let live.

In the winter, I lead an indoor walking group at the mall. In the summer, we trade polished tiles for beautiful trails. I don’t walk every single day—resistance bands and I are in a committed relationship—but I refuse to lose the habit. And since I slip and fall easily, winter and I have an understanding: we keep the Rambling indoors.

This week, two undaunted Ramblers joined me. We covered 5.5 kilometers in one hour, which means either we walk fast or we talk even faster.

In sixty minutes, we solved religion and politics, reviewed farming and chicken farming, compared how long each of us has lived in Guelph Canada, revisited the Great Emu War of Australia (which still sounds made up), confessed our fear of spiders, discussed the statistical horror that we may have swallowed one in our sleep, planned a potential visit to the Royal Winter Fair in Toronto, debated how exactly one gets to the Royal Winter Fair in Toronto… and several other profound topics that have now respectfully left my brain.

Walking, I’ve realized, is just therapy without the invoice.

After we parted ways, I sat in the food court with a black coffee and decided to have a different kind of Ramble — a quiet one.

Phone away. Eyes open.

Across from me sat a man who looked uncannily like an elderly Robert De Niro — intense, solitary, coffee in hand. Every time I glanced at him, he glanced at me. So naturally, I looked away like I’d been caught staring into someone’s soul.

An elderly couple debated chair placement before committing to coffee and breakfast. Two separate moms stood in line with very excited kids, negotiating pancakes and patience. A younger couple — possibly on a date. A group of sharply dressed adults laughing loudly — fresh from church, I imagined.

And then there was a boy. Not older than eleven. Sitting alone with a very big breakfast.

He ate methodically. Content, it seemed.

I told myself his mom must be working at one of the mall restaurants. Or shopping nearby. Or he was meeting someone. I took smaller and smaller sips of my coffee, quietly waiting for an adult to appear. He just kept eating.

By 11 a.m., the mall officially opened, and the loudspeaker broke the spell. I needed to go home and convert caffeine into next week’s meal prep.

Part of me wanted to walk over and ask, “Are you okay?” But another part of me worried that in today’s world, a simple question could turn into suspicion. So instead, I looked at him one last time. On face value, he looked perfectly content with his burger.

I said a small prayer for his well-being and left.

Ramble is an interesting word.

Sometimes we Ramble through places.

Sometimes we Ramble through conversations.

Sometimes we Ramble quietly through our own thoughts.

Alone — but not lonely.

Happy Sunday.