Life's Toughest Challenge: Living Well Enough Alone

It scares us more than anything except death.

Being alone.

For some it is a little death. Our fear of solitude is so ingrained that given the choice of being by ourselves or being with others, we opt for safety in numbers, even at the expense of lingering in painful, boring or totally unredeeming company.

Alone, we instinctively wish we weren't. Alone, we're lonely, depressed, unfulfilled, lost. Alone, we squander life by rejecting its full potential and its remaining promises.

And this is tragic because more of us are alone than ever before. And exceedingly more by choice. The 1990 U.S. Census revealed that nearly 40 percent of the population, a quarter of American households, consisted of just one person, a leap of 26 percent over the past two decade, representing a growth rate two-and-a-half times greater than the nation's overall population gain.

"Single-person household could become the most common household type in the United States after the year 2005," predicts demographic trends analyst Cheryl Russell. "Never before in American history has living alone been the predominant lifestyle."

And so, as the number of solitary Americans grows, we must learn to embrace our aloneness. I'm not suggesting you abandon all your close ties. On the contrary, national medical surveys confirm that the majority of people who live alone and rate their physical and emotional well-being as "excellent" maintain frequent contact with relatives and friends.

But we need to befriend and enjoy ourselves as well. Too many of us persist in the belief that we are nothing without others. Conditioned from childhood to regard a solitary existence as the harshest penalty life can mete, our greatest dread is to grow old alone.

We've even coined a word for people who prefer to be alone: antisocial, as if they were enemies of society. Worse, friendless--strange, pitiful, suspect in a world that goes around in twos or more and is wary of solitary travelers.

"We must relea
to be alone," exhorts Anne Morrow Lindbergh in her inspirational book, "Gift from the Sea."
"Instead of planting our solitude with dream blossoms," she chides, "we choke the space with continuous music, chatter and companionship to which we do not even listen. It is simply there to fill the vacuum."

"We can't stand silence," said Agnes de Mille, "because silence includes thinking. And if we thought, we would have to face ourselves." A frightening prospect, indeed.

And sad, because we flee our entire lives from the people who know us best and love us the most: ourselves. Let us join, then, those enlightened men and women who are living well enough alone, even magnificently, in full affirmation of the preciousness of life. Those rare people who have found the nobility in turning to themselves first when facing life's challenges--and not blaming anyone else when they fail.

Who are celebrating themselves in their own special ways, learning the lessons no one else can teach them, gaining the triumphs they can only achieve alone. Who are both giver and receiver of the gifts they have always coveted.

Who have become boon companions to the best friends they'll ever have. Guess who.
How does that old song go? "I've been to paradise, but I've never been to me..."
About time, don't you think?