Solitude and Caring
As a child, most of my family lived in another country. I didn’t think about this very much except for holidays, when my friends got to see their grandparents. I did get to see my grandparents, occasionally. One summer, my grandfather was staying with us. I was playing with a friend of mine and we ran into the house for some reason. As we rampaged aimlessly through the house, my grandfather was sitting in quiet contemplation. My friend, whose entire family was from the tristate area, asked what my grandfather was doing; if he did that all the time. I thought so?
“That’s so sad,” he said.
At the time, I assumed my friend must be right. My family was weird. We didn’t have animated conversations at the dinner table. For us, simply being near one another was enough to communicate our familial love. It felt right but, in the context of our small, New Jersey community, it was definitely weird. Existing in this town, I was often told to speak up; to go make friends; that I was very quiet—usually preceding the question “is something wrong?”
We live in a country that rewards those who are willing to stand up and exalt themselves and their achievements. Accolades are reserved for those who are willing to be bold and to network with as many people as possible and assert themselves in conversation.
There are many facets to living as an introvert in an extroverted society. It was years before I realized that there was nothing wrong with me; that in fact, there were others like me. One of the cruelest ironies of being an introvert is that you never feel compelled to seek the company of other introverts. I spent college trying to be like others, crashing through one social encounter after another and on a good day leaving only a trail of faux pas in my wake. We live in a country that rewards those who are willing to stand up and exalt themselves and their achievements. Accolades are reserved for those who are willing to be bold and to network with as many people as possible and assert themselves in conversation. Those who are willing to take charge and work through their ideas aloud are seen as leaders and quick thinkers. My unwillingness to speak up in a group was a weakness. The fact that I had to think about ideas before sharing them meant I was slow. Being intentional and considerate in my relationships with others was something I had to get over if I was ever going to find a partner. In fact, it was only last year, at the age of 32, that anyone ever mentioned to me that being an introvert carried any benefits at all. We live in a society built for extroverts. If you don’t believe me, I highly recommend listening to Susan Cain, author of Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can't Stop Talking, speak about introverts in one of her many youtube videos (just don’t click the recommended links).
In March of 2020, the way society in the United States worked began to change fundamentally. The uncertainty of the COVID-19 global health crisis began to lay bare countless shortcomings at every level of our daily lives in the face of a pandemic. Specifically, in a society that values extroversion, we were not prepared to maintain a social distance. The concept of wearing masks and avoiding social gatherings was not only difficult to impress upon people, it was actively reviled and flaunted by people in every corner of our nation. The idea of keeping to oneself and practicing solitude wasn’t ignored by the people of the United States. It was inconceivable.
So many articles and stories focus on the half measures we can take to feel some sort of connection to others; extroverts find themselves thrust into quiet and lonely worlds. Take this interview on NPR for example. In it, the producer solicits comments from the listeners of NPR about their challenges in maintaining relationships during the pandemic. People mention the difficulties of having their adult children suddenly living at home, managing digital relationships with others, and how to confront friends and family who refuse to wear masks. The discussion mostly revolves around figuring out different ways to interact with people, despite the fact that the most important thing we can do in the middle of this pandemic is stay away from others. At the end, there is one mention of the fact that some people enjoy being by themselves. The expert responds: “yes, one day we, as a society, we’ll get over that. Experts across many fields have often told us, over the last year, how important it is to avoid gathering with others. Yet, in a culture that values interaction over solitude, no one is trying to teach people how to be by themselves.
The pandemic has been easy on no one. Even I find myself longing to be in a crowd of people. I miss being in bars and at concerts; I even miss shuffling amongst a sea of strangers during rush hour. I’m one of the lucky ones, however, who appreciates time to myself. I revel in solitude and I believe that, right now, our society could benefit from learning to appreciate moments of introversion.
Spending time by yourself practicing solitude can be beneficial. Stepping away from regular distractions—work, technology, other people, etc.—to take a quiet walk, wherever you may find one, is relaxing and can lead to more creative thinking. Dedicating time to being alone is a good way to take stock of your thoughts and emotions. It can help you realize which beliefs are your own and which are being heaped on you. Practicing solitude doesn’t have to mean meditating on the beach at sunset; it can be as simple as taking a walk by yourself in your neighborhood. Even if you live with others, respectfully asking for a few minutes of alone time can be beneficial. In my life, it takes many forms: caring for plants, preparing a meal, sitting in bed after my partner has fallen asleep. What’s important about this time is listening to see what your brain comes up with. Not all thoughts are nice thoughts; indeed there are many not-so-nice thoughts to be had these days. However, it’s important to find out what’s going on in that head of yours.
I feel the need to make two things clear about these recommendations. What I’m talking about here is not an issue of millennials or Generation Z not being able to survive without their phones. In an oft cited study from the University of Virginia older participants who didn’t grow up with cellphones and laptops were just as likely as their younger counterparts to prefer mild electric shocks to being in a room by themselves. This condition is ageless and endemic to our culture. One of my mother’s favorite anecdotes about encountering an American abroad happened in a restaurant in England. She was sitting with her cousin when a group of people came in. One, an American, asked her cousin what she was eating and commented that they might order it themselves. My mother’s relation was shocked and insulted that a stranger would be so bold as to speak to her unprompted. In American culture, striking up a conversation—filling a silence—is natural. It takes a concerted effort to make the choice to be alone.
Enjoying the sensation of being alone requires that experience to be optional. Without the ability to go in and out of solitude, we simply become lonely.
I will reiterate that being by yourself can be really difficult, even if you’re used to it. Masha Gessen wrote and article—maybe the article you should read after this one—about loneliness and isolation during the pandemic. Enjoying the sensation of being alone requires that experience to be optional. Without the ability to go in and out of solitude, we simply become lonely. This is troubling because, as Gessen writes, “isolation is the enemy of solitude: when we cannot see our reflection in the eyes and ideas of others, the self disappears, and solitude turns into loneliness.”
As a young introvert, I was perplexed by the society around me. I was convinced I was the weird one; an anomalous youngster who sought a quiet corner in a loud world. Today, in the midst of the greatest public health crisis in a century, I may still be weird but I know there are other weirdos like me. Introverts are everywhere. They have always been needed by society, whether society recognizes that or not. Now, that need is dire. Learning to practice solitude—to spend time quietly with only the thoughts of your mind—will strengthen an individual’s sense of identity. Every community would be stronger if each individual was more confident in who they were—relying on an introspective understanding of themselves rather than external stimuli. I hope that lesson can be learned by our culture and carried into the new world we will soon inhabit.