fegg night. I’m sitting on the sofa, my new book is waiting next to me, snacks are in front of me. My only company is Nacho – my dog. My ideal evening after a day of social interactions. Until my cell phone lights up: “I’ll come by later, then you’re not alone,” writes a friend. Please don’t, I think in panic. It’s perfect the way it is.
I get messages like my girlfriend’s from time to time when I’m alone one evening and my husband is away. For many, being alone is not nice. On the contrary: it is downright frowned upon. Especially when you are young and happily married. My love of being alone has nothing to do with not putting up with my husband or not having fun in life. Quite the opposite: it has more to do with the fact that I like myself better when I spend enough time with myself.
appointments with myself
Behind this is not the narcissistic belief that I alone am the best company in this world. It’s the need to have enough energy to be the balanced version of myself to the people around me that I think they deserve. This only works if I make appointments with myself in between. And we do it consciously and uncompromisingly.
Alone time is like meditation for me. The time when my whole body shuts down. I collect my scattered emotions, sort my thoughts, find myself. This time feels like stepping into warm bath water after a freezing cold day. The main reason I feel this way is that I take other people’s problems home with me. I like to listen to people and listen to them intensely. That takes a lot of strength.
The time that I then consciously spend alone always looks different. But one thing always remains the same: it is healing for me. Sometimes it’s the time when I, with the towel on my head, prepare my favorite food with too much salt. Sometimes it’s the time when I consciously choose detours on the way home. Sometimes I’m lying on the sofa and constantly switching between my cell phone and the book. And sometimes it’s just an uneventful day where I only have monologues in my head instead of engaging in real conversations. Pure pleasure for me.
anonymity of the big city
You might think that people who like being alone like me prefer to live in the country. That’s where calm reigns. This is (at least in my case) a big misunderstanding. It’s the big cities that make being alone so special. It’s the informal anonymity I crave. I need the big city where I can be alone among far too many people. I need the life that’s going on around me and most of all I need neighbors I don’t know. I also like to get out into town on days I’m with myself and watch others do the exact opposite of all of that.
A perfect day alone among many looks like this: At around 20 degrees, light wind, with comfortable shoes and (unmistakably) headphones, immersing yourself in the crowd – that’s what makes a stroll through the city really (relaxing) exciting. Suddenly the otherwise stressful shopping experience is a blessing for my anti-social soul. I decide what makes it into my closet. I myself decide how slowly I run, where I stop. I decide for myself whether I want to have a greasy or a healthy snack. And when I long for my apartment again. Incidentally, there are also people whose company comes close to being alone. That’s not an insult, it’s a big compliment from someone who likes to be alone.
Skeptics fire off terms like “escape” and “despair.”
Of course I know that there is also the complete opposite of me. Also in my environment. Those who get their energy from spending time with people. The mere thought of a diary full of company tears me apart. I follow my own rule: a socially eventful day is followed by two alone days. Wonderful.
Although I always emphasize that I like being alone, I often encounter skeptics. Who immediately analyze my desire to be alone and then fire off terms like “escape” and “despair”. Who immediately go in search of a solution to a non-existent problem. So when I mention my evening alone, the inevitable often follows: an invitation. To spend time together. I refuse. I just like being alone.
Because that’s the nice thing: that those around me know that I don’t accept invitations because I’m afraid of being alone or because I’m bored, but because I like spending time with them. Because for me, too, the following applies: Being alone is beautiful. However, only deliberately chosen and for a specific time. What makes alone time all the more beautiful is the anticipation of what comes after. The time with great people, which then feels casual and deep. At least for now.
#meditation