Aloneness and Loneliness Aren’t the Same Thing
Solitude isn’t a dirty word when you know the difference
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“Don’t be lonely” said my aunt. I couldn’t fathom what she meant until I realized many people aren’t comfortable by themselves. Unlike me, they think it’s important to be with someone all the time.
When there’s no one around, they fill the environment with distractions — switch on the TV or radio — because the background noise helps them feel less alone.
I consider knowing solitude has the potential to be beneficial a gift. It’s only when I’m by myself, after all, I have the space and clarity to reflect, learn, and grow. When I’m with people, their noise, needs, and behaviors steal my attention.
Being alone is a healthy form of selfishness if you get it right. Nobody wants to be lonely, and we’re built to thrive in a community. So, I don’t mean it’s beneficial to spend time by yourself before your need for community is satiated. But solitude at other times, when you re-energize, reflect, or can simply be rather than do for a while invigorates and heals.
“But I enjoy my own company” I said, yet, she didn’t understand.
The ability to step out of the busy world and enjoy nature, or just do nothing but people-watch in the city, is a pleasure. We all have this capability, of course, but many don’t indulge. They don’t see taking time out to be alone as one of life’s perks.
When I’m alone, my brain lights up. My best ideas rarely come when I’m with anyone. The odd times they do, I haven’t always got a pen and paper handy to record them, and the spark of genius (let’s call it that) disappears fast.
Sometimes, it doesn’t matter where you go to be by yourself, because ultimately, you end up in your imagination where you can note how busy your thoughts are and sort through them or calm your mind.
On other occasions, it’s wonderful to choose a place to be on your own so you can make the most of a beautiful or inspiring environment. I love to walk among nature. I watch wildlife, and even falling leaves, and somehow spin wisdom and stories from the experience.
At other times, I aim to do absolutely nothing. Maybe I’ll walk or sit. But that’s it. I have no agenda. Such moments are bliss because you are a witness to the flow of life all around you. The squirrels scurry, people rush by, the clouds move. Everything shifts while the sensation you are still keeps you grounded.
Why you are alone makes a difference to your perspective, naturally. If you want to be with friends or family, but they don’t invite you to share their company, you won’t enjoy being by yourself. You’ll be lonely.
“I all alone beweep my outcast state.” William Shakespeare
The words to In My Solitude, sung by Ella Fitzgerald, also have something to say about being alone when it isn’t your choice.
“In my solitude you haunt me
With reveries of days gone by
In my solitude you taunt me
With memories that never die
I sit in my chair
Filled with despair
Nobody could be so sad
With gloom ev’rywhere
I sit and I stare
I know that I’ll soon go mad
In my solitude
I’m praying
Dear Lord above
Send back my love
I sit in my chair
I’m filled with despair
There’s no one could be so sad
With gloom ev’rywhere
I sit and I stare
I know that I’ll soon go mad
In my solitude
I’m praying
Dear Lord above
Send back my love.”
Choose to be alone, though, and suddenly it becomes enjoyable.
I think of my aunt and other people I know who hate to be alone and consider they miss out. But, you can’t be happy with your own company unless you believe it’s valuable.
You need to know solitude isn’t a dirty word. It’s not about being an outcast, or even something others force on you. It’s a healthy choice. It’s about recharging your internal batteries to find peace of mind. If you describe it as loneliness, abandonment, or not being popular enough to fill every moment with friends, you won’t see it as a gift.
Ode on Solitude, written by Alexander Pope.
( He was blessed to know solitude as a joy by the time he put pen to paper at the age of 12).
“Happy the man, whose wish and care
A few paternal acres bound,
Content to breathe his native air,
In his own ground.
Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread,
Whose flocks supply him with attire,
Whose trees in summer yield him shade,
In winter fire.
Blest, who can unconcernedly find
Hours, days, and years slide soft away,
In health of body, peace of mind,
Quiet by day.
Sound sleep by night; study and ease,
Together mixed; sweet recreation;
And innocence, which most does please,
With meditation.
Thus let me live, unseen, unknown;
Thus unlamented let me die;
Steal from the world, and not a stone
Tell where I lie.”
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Copyright © 2019 Bridget Webber. All rights reserved
