The bliss of solitude
By Mark Vernon on Thursday, May 29 2008, 09:54 - Journalism - Permalink
I was on Chris Evans drivetime BBC Radio 2 last night, talking about solitude. It's true! (You can listen again, about 20 minutes into the programme.)
The subject is a good one. Oddly, to be able to be alone with yourself is a condition for the ability to love. If someone is attached to another person because they cannot stand on their own two feet, love may feel like a lifesaver, but the relationship is one of compromised love because it does not allow the other person to be themselves. To put it another way, if you are not capable of solitude, you might love to remove your loneliness, not to know another. Or you could say that the best relationships are about just being together, not doing stuff together. And being with someone requires you being able to be yourself.
John Bayley found a moving way of talking about it, when reflecting on how his love of Iris Murdoch took them 'closer and closer apart'. Or, if you are looking for a tip on how to find a partner, how about developing the capacity to enjoy spending a night in on your own!
Edward Gibbon, the historian, called solitude 'the school of genius.'
C.G. Jung advised people to have some time alone everyday for what he called 'active imagination', a time when you can let go.
William Wordsworth, in 'I wandered lonely as a cloud', talked of the 'bliss of solitude'. It develops the 'inward eye', for appreciating nature.
Of course, enforced solitude is a bad thing, even a form of torture. So be careful of too much solitude, and turning in on yourself. This is perhaps why religious hermits tend to live in clusters, 'alone together'; keeping their eyes looking out towards the community, as opposed to pure introspection, avoids madness.
Comments
I always remember the comment Rainer Maria Rilke made, I think it was in the Letters to a Young Poet, that love is "a meeting of two deep solitudes." Rilke of course was a great mapper of his own solitude, out of which arose much of his greatest work.
"...to be able to be alone with yourself is a condition for the ability to love".
At 46, it has taken me most of my adolescence and adult life to truly know this on a deep, deep level. Every step I have taken towards savoring my alone time, as opposed to seeing it "wait time" for the next interpersonal interaction, has been a step towards being a better and more loving mom, wife, friend, daughter, etc. Why it has taken so long I don't know, but it sure feels good.
But where does the line between solitude and loneliness run? Right now I've served myself a heavy portion of solitude so I can write a novel. I feel fine most every day--except for Friday and Saturday nights because I know that while I am being alone and virtuous elsewhere other people are having a lot more fun than I am! The same situation can, when given different backgrounds, feel lonesome or peaceful.
I suspect that loneliness and solitude are actually different things that may or may not be related. After all, you can feel lonely in company; and when people don't like solitude it could be that it is not loneliness they fear but being thrown on themselves: others bring distractions.
Scipio Africanus: I'm never less alone than when I am alone.
The words you quote from John Bayley were not his own. They were the words of Australian poet, Alec Hope, whose poem "The Wandering Islands" was a response to John Donne's sonnet, "No man is an island". Hope's poem begins:
"You cannot build bridges between wandering islands;
the Mind has no neighbours, and the unteachable heart
Announces its armistice from time to time, but spends
Its love to draw them closer and closer apart."
Even Superman had his "fortress of solitude."
Pope:
Thus let me live, unseen, unknown;
Thus unlamented let me die;
Steal from the world, and not a stone
Tell where I lie.
Quentin Crisp advised that the secret to happiness is to live alone. That does not mean being lonely. If you want to learn to dislike someone, live with them!
a lovely song by Samuel Barber:
h. The Monk and his Cat
Pangur, white Pangur,
How happy we are
Alone together, Scholar and cat.
Each has his own work to do daily;
For you it is hunting, for me study.
Your shining eye watches the wall;
my feeble eye is fixed on a book.
You rejoice when your claws entrap a mouse;
I rejoice when my mind fathoms a problem.
Pleased with his own art
Neither hinders the other;
Thus we live ever
without tedium and envy.
Pangur, white Pangur,
How happy we are
Alone together, Scholar and cat.
I firmly believe that a certain amount of solitude is essential for mental health, as Bukowski put it, the right amount of solitude and the crowd. Though married, there are a few times a year when my wife travels, leaving me to the splendor and peace of an empty house. I love my wife, and equally, the "silence" of my own mind.
In my mid-thirties I found myself starting a new romantic relationship in the same mechanical/unconsious way I had always done. I had the good fortune of having a brief moment of clarity about the unthinking nature of my m.o. In an effort to break this pattern, I committed to a time of solitude that lasted approximately a year. I didn't go into it with any preconcieved ideas, just a desire to see myself and a potential life partner differently and I certainly didn't make any promises with relation to the amount of time that I was going to invest. I made a daily commitment, like an alcoholic staying away from a drink a day at a time. Some days were harder than others but at the end I had lost the need (or compulsion)to be in a relationship, and had a healthier, more realistic view of my true Self. Whatever level of peace and health I've achieved in this area I can trace back to this effort of twenty years ago. Thanks for the reminder!