Vindicated!

Conventional wisdom holds that humans are social creatures; we need relationships, connections to other people, and associations with groups in order to live fully. Those of us who prefer time alone generate skepticism and suspicion. We're considered eccentric, or depressed, or alientated or lonely.

Finally there's evidence to support my proclivity toward solitude. The Boston Globe ran a story last Sunday about some important studies, including one from Harvard, that suggest solitude may actually be good for us. Apparently we do all sorts of things better when we take enough time alone. Hey--I could have told them that, and probably a lot quicker and cheaper. Things like creativity, memory, focus, imagination, empathy, and--get this--improved social relationships are all improved when we spend enough time alone.

I don't dispute for a minute that bonding relationships are important early in life. Children who don't form close relationships have problems later on. But for adults, even teens, these studies suggest that blocking off enough alone time makes everything work better.

This seems elementary to me. But I know lots of people who are almost never alone, usually on purpose. I've never quite understood people who schedule something every spare minute, or who make sure that every weekend is full of social plans, or who sleep with anyone they can find just so they don't have to be alone. For me, the priority always is: will I have enough time to go home and be by myself if I accept this invitation?

The Therapist has suggested several times that I try to schedule some things with friends that would be fun. It's hard to explain to people that most of the time what I honestly look forward to after work and on weekends is some time to myself. I don't think I'm misanthropic, and this Globe article vindicates me.

I do have friends. But I don't "collect" friends the way other people seem to. The ones I have, and the ones I keep, are few but precious. Most of them have stood the test of time and even distance. I guess I don't need a lot of friends, I just need good ones.

When Philip moved to Massachusetts, I panicked a little bit. Another human in my home? I'd gotten used to my solitary ways. Luckily, he understood. And, of course, over time we could happily be alone together. I think it was different with him. We did everything together, we enjoyed just being alone together. He used to say he didn't need any more friends because he had me. We kind of shared our solitude, our alone time.

So that may be why I'm comfortable spending most of my non-work time alone; it's not that different from my life before. As I said, I have friends who have to carefully schedule the times we get together, and basically squeeze me in, because they have scheduled every time slot and have none to spare. Frankly, that would drive me nuts.

According to the studies, even our memories are more robust, more lasting and more accurate when we spend enough time alone. When I'm by myself I can summon memories both good and bad and process them; I love the silence, the feeling that this time is mine and I can do my best thinking. We even do a better job on tasks when we're doing them alone, due to a phenomenon known as "social loafing." In short, if we know there's someone else doing the same task, we don't try as hard.

I love this. I have proof that I'm not alienated or suspect or somehow defective. I'm just doing what the psychology community is now saying we should all be doing: recharging my batteries, taking a breather, and in the process becoming a better social animal.