The measure of spiritual depth is the ability, not merely to tolerate, but to enjoy and profit from solitude.
Having a lot of friends means going broad. Having only a few, and understanding that aloneness is not the same as loneliness, is going deep. But try explaining that to an inveterately social creature who feels compelled to hoot and holler with the rest of the monkeys. Oh, and is this the right time to note that Dr. V is married?
Solitude, forsooth.*
*Forsooth is Old English for "my big, fat, half-Korean ass."
Sounds simple enough. What am I so afraid of?
ReplyDeleteJohn,
ReplyDeleteI can't say. Some folks are afraid of dying alone, but as the proverb goes, We all die alone, i.e., at the moment of our respective individual deaths, we step through the Great Door unaccompanied, not as a group. This thought was disturbing enough to some ancient folks that they invented the notion of the psychopomp: the spiritual guide or companion who accompanies you to the land of the dead so that you don't make that journey alone.
I'd say that the aloneness/loneliness question applies to dying: if you're fine with being alone-but-not-lonely, then you'll be fine with dying alone.
It's a good moral question to ponder, though. For me, functioning alone and independently is both a goal and a virtue: depending on others for too much is a weakness. Sure, in an ultimate sense, we're all interdependent; no one is truly divorced from everyone and everything else. Even if I were alone on a tropical island, I'd still depend on sea life and terrestrial creatures for sustenance, and I'd depend on the air simply to stay alive from moment to moment. But as for dependence on society... yes, I benefit from the conveniences of civilization, so I ought to be grateful for the gifts that come with modernity, and if I'm honest with myself, I'm going to need society if I break a leg, get shot, or worse. That said, such needs have less to do with companionship than with utilitarian benefits. I don't constantly crave a warm body next to me in bed, although I do have moments where I fleetingly think such a situation would be nice. Other people, though, are wired differently, so is it any special virtue if I'm wired for introversion while most of the world is not?
Anyway, back to you. If you're wired to need some level of companionship, then exercising your human freedom will entail navigating those needs and compulsions in a way that does no one—including yourself—any physical or psychic harm. Figuring out your relationship-related limits, figuring out what works and doesn't work while not denying your basic nature—that's a noble goal. With the new Bill and Ted movie coming out soon, I was reminded of the duo's maxim: "Be excellent to each other." Whether they know it or not, Bill and Ted's focus on excellence harks back to the ancient Greek notion of aretê, virtue or excellence. Whatever you do, do it deeply and mindfully, with effort and care, and always with the thought of promoting your own and others' spiritual growth.
I'm talking to myself as much as to you, of course.