July 1, 2009
Solitude v. Loneliness
Loneliness is harsh, punishment, a deficiency state, a state of discontent marked by a sense of estrangement, an awareness of excess aloneness.
Solitude is something you choose. Loneliness is imposed on you by others.
We all need periods of solitude, although temperamentally we probably differ in the amount of solitude we need. Some solitude is essential; it gives us time to explore and know ourselves. It is the necessary counterpoint to intimacy, what allows us to have a self worthy of sharing. Solitude gives us a chance to regain perspective. It renews us for the challenges of life. It allows us to get (back) into the position of driving our own lives, rather than having them run by schedules and demands from without.
Solitude restores body and mind. Lonelinesss depletes them.
This struck a chord with me. Recently I overextended myself — something I do too often, honestly — which resulted in a period of intense “aloneness.” Like a rubber band, I stretch and stretch and stretch …until I snap, recoiling so far inward that it can take days before I’m myself again. In times like this, I question my need for solitude. Is it excessive? And considering I’m single, how do people in relationships manage to so healthily balance the need for solitude with the desire for companionship?
So, y’all. How much alone time do you need? If you’re in a relationship, how do you make time for yourself?
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16 Responses to “Solitude v. Loneliness”
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Preliminary thought from one who is both gregarious and has a ferocious need for solitude: You never strike a balance. But you keep trying.
this is a really good question. in some ways you can have aloneness with the other if both of you are in tune. otherwise, as is inevitable, you find the time you need to be by yourself, or work it into the schedule. I’ve noticed as I’ve worked on interviews and filming lately how much I’ve been craving solitude and balancing that with my need to go forward and find out what is available in a particular moment, a particular opportunity. I’ve also been wondering how much need for solitude is conditioned — or due to lack of conditioning — meaning whether it, or the lack of it more precisely, is the byproduct of not being in shape completely for the social interaction; it requiring a certain amount of training, much like an athlete prepares for the challenges of a race
Deron, you have hit on something with respect to staying in training for social interaction. I don’t believe that one positively unlearns how to be with people; at least, I believe that’s a profound unlearning that requires a good deal of time and possibly some degree of trauma.
But it strikes me that one consequence of the past few years of my own pretty extreme solitude has been that I’ve gotten rusty with respect to initiating social interaction. I don’t gibber like an idiot nor stand in the corner staring at my feet in social situations, but I do just sort of forget to keep the fires lit (to borrow a phrase from Cooper).
Now I do interact quite a lot with people by way of this awesome Web 2.0 app that Amy helped develop, but, eh, I don’t get out much these days. I live in the sticks, ’tis true, but I’m not sure I’d be out and about much more if I were back in Chicago.
A few years ago I was in a relationship where getting some solitude was practically impossible. But I found that if I read a book my partner was less likely to demand my attention. So I got an awful lot of reading done those few years.
As for how much alone time I need, my favourite hours are the ones between midnight and whenever I go to sleep, as I know I’m guaranteed to be uninterrupted by any phone calls, door-bells, or anything else, which gives me a long quiet stretch to let my mind unfurl. So, by that rule of thumb, at least 3 hours a day, bare minimum.
I guess also it’s partly about what you need from your solitude. For me it’s being uninterrupted, with no expectations about my mental or physical presence. And there are times where it’s possible to have that, even when you’re in someone else’s company, and being alone together is pretty fantastic.
I’m in a relationship now where we’re both comfortable saying ‘I need some alone time now’, and that is a fine thing indeed.
I wonder if there is a split between only monkeys and the rest of y’all on this business of loneliness and solitude. Are we only monkeys more inclined to regard solitude as a normal condition? I tend to suspect not. It’s never so simple.
By the way, of the current tribe, I know that Lucy and I are only monkeys. Any others I don’t know about?
I’ve only known a few only-monkeys in my life, but they’ve all been people who were capable of extreme gregariousness & almost violent in their need for solitude. I think I’ve always considered that only children somehow have a greater density of characteristics & personhood in them, as they never had any siblings to take up the slack.
I’ve got three older siblings –two sisters & a brother– and three nephews, the oldest of which is close enough in age & temperament to effectively be a younger brother. But the closest age gap between me & them is the seven years between me & my brother. So, as a kid, my siblings were never really my friends, and we never really hung out. So I dosed up pretty good on solitude back then, which might explain why I like it so much now.
Chris, that’s right on target so far as this only monkey is concerned.
Problem is, people can get awfully hurt and confused by the mixed signals sent out by some of us only monkeys (and only monkey-like monkeys).
I wonder whether growing up as such isolated savages we fail to learn something basic about modulating our responses.
I like to think I’m pretty flexible and easy-going, but over the long haul and in an intimate relationship, I suspect I am not.
I started running in the third grade. We’d go down to the beach and run around a small grass field. I didn’t like it much. As we got older the distances grew with us. With distance came space. When I was in the 9th grade things got more serious. Races got longer, practices harder and the space between the runners got greater.
The beauty of running was that, even shoulder to shoulder with a teammate, I was alone. The effort was mine, the pain was mine.
When my doctor suggested I stop running because of a slight scoliosis that caused inflamed muscles in my back it was natural for me to find a new outlet.
Enter the bike.
Deron and Sheila— I think you’re on to something with the idea of learned social interaction. It’s hard to understand how a child of an expansive family could require so much solitude, but then again… Like Chris, my siblings are spread out in age. My middle sister is six years older and my eldest, 11. If we wanted to include the stepbrothers that I never lived with, we’re the Brady Bunch in parallel ages… But I’ve never known any of them more than I know my cousins — present at family gatherings, but nothing more.
There’s 18 and 22 years between me and my little half-brother and -sister, respectively. And in many ways, their unceasing desire for attention is more exhausting than any other social interactions in my life. I think I’ve matriculated the training for Older Sister Interaction though, because I miss their insanity if I go too long between visits.
I learned solitude, as a general preference, early in life. “Showing up” in most of my interactions with people outside my own family, was an invitation to ridicule or worse. I learned to disappear, in a corner, in a book. On the bus to school, I would hunker down in the corner of a seat by the window. (This on the ride home only. Being the last pick-up on the morning bus route, I had to find some kind soul willing to let me take the barest edge of the seat in a very full schoolbus.)
These days, I enjoy the company of lots of folks, but end of the party or end of the day, depending on how much I have to “show up” in the world for either, I might retreat. Danny allows me this, he knows I need it. Still we spend time together nearly every day (sometimes by phone if he is away someplace working). I felt lonely only before I met Danny.
I think I’ve bored y’all with this before, most of my “daily dose” of solitude I find when I wake up, somewhere between 4:00 and 5:00 in the morning.
This time is being “messed with” lately. We started summer hours at work last week and the staff is coming in at 7:00 am. I need to adjust accordingly and I haven’t yet. I need to get up an hour earlier.
Based on 21 years, 10 months, 22 days of experience partnered with a solitude requirer, the following time schedule seems to have worked out just fine for most days of the week…
4:30 a.m. arise (or like me, stay in bed an sleep like a normal person)
4:31 a.m. think deep thoughts while grinding coffee beans and such
4:35 a.m. feed the cat, pet the cat, shoot the cat with insulin
4:37 a.m. pour coffee, fire up the computer, read all of the late-night posts from Clusterflock
6:00 a.m. take a shower, get dressed for the day
6:20 a.m. turn on CNN and watch standing up while eating breakfast
6:40 a.m. kiss Danny on the forehead (or like me, begin to awaken like a normal person)
6:55 a.m. out the door and off to work
(All consuming work, filled with “people” and “frustration” and occasional “flashes of brilliance”)
5:30 p.m. return home, pour a cocktail, kiss Danny on the forehead
5:35 p.m. feed the cat, pet the cat, shoot the cat with insulin
5:37 p.m. pour another cocktail, go out on the patio with computer, read and post to Clusterflock
7:30 p.m. dinner and a movie (usually a “chick-flick Danny wants to watch”)
9:15 p.m. pour another cocktail, go out on the patio with computer, read and creatively post to Clusterflock
10:30 a.m. brush teeth, kiss Danny on the forehead, go to sleep
Repeat.
Um, y’all. This is pretty accurate. He knows me. How does he tolerate me?
(The “deep thoughts time” in the a.m. includes cleaning up the kitchen from the night before. “An hour of mindful work” before I start the day.)
Clusterflock couples therapy. Could we charge for this?
He kissed me on the forehead before falling asleep. He really is the best.
11:06 p.m.
Oh Danny! And Rick Rick Rick! You are the best! That life sounds most wonderful. (Especially the normal sleeping)
Y’all’re making my teeth hurt.
India, I was thinking the same thing. The sugar buzz should subside about seven this evening.