I remember taking a women's history class once in which the teacher asked how many planned to get married some day and how many planned to remain unmarried (it was a question apparently implied only for the female students). On the latter question, only a few raised their hands. I remember turning and thinking to myself, "Why would you want to be alone?"
Nevermind that the professor's question implied not that these students would remain alone, but only that they would remain unmarried. For all I knew, each hand represented a well-connected, vibrant life whose interest lay in friendships alone (or cohabitation). Still, it wasn't something I understood at the time. I didn't want to be lonely, and I couldn't understand how others could choose it, either.
My context-- and, I believe, my maturity level-- changed with time, however, as did my outlook on what it means to be alone. I've found that there is a distinct difference between loneliness and aloneness, and because I believe that experiencing the former is essential to being content in the latter, it has occurred to me that both are necessary parts of human nature. Loneliness can be a stepping stone to choosing either intimacy or aloneness.*
Choosing aloneness, it seems, is something some of us do consciously, and others unconsciously, anyway. A second memory I have from college is a theory of identity development elucidated by a psychologist named Erik Erikson. According to Erikson, there are eight stages that a person faces in his or her lifetime, each of which presents the person with a stage-specific conflict, or "crisis." The one that mattered to me at the time, and which still does, I suppose, was the sixth stage: Intimacy versus Isolation. A person in this stage must determine whether he or she will form loving relationships or be alone. If the individual was unable to resolve his or her identity crisis in the preceding stage, he or she will find it the harder to form close relationships in this one. In his spirit of healthy identity development, Erikson believed it was important for people to form close relationships with others.
As history and our own life experiences have taught us, though, life is not always progressive. Just as we reexperience those unwanted feelings we thought we'd beaten-- anger and disappointment, for example-- so we can reexperience loneliness, even amid wonderful relationships. This is not always a bad thing, however. Not only do experiences like these remind us that we are human, but they also compel us to change areas of our own or others' lives which would otherwise remain stagnant.
My point here is that while we should not invite loneliness into our lives, it is something which can give us opportunity to develop our character.** We can learn through our loneliness how to be alone, and thus how to be content. I believe, in fact, that moments of loneliness-- like moments of pain in general-- can be learning experiences. It is, then, not something from which we should always run. Rather, in the right mindset, loneliness gives us the chance to move in a meaningful direction.***
*I believe that loneliness can prepare us for healthy relationships-- whether friendships or otherwise-- because healthy intimacy occurs between people who are content in themselves and by themselves, between those who choose relationships rather than those who need relationships.
**At first glance, it may seem like I contradict myself when I speak in one paragraph about life not being progressive, and in the next about a progression of character. Both progress and setback can take place in the life of a person without excluding the possibility of either. They are not mutually exclusive.
***Keep in mind that I am not advocating loneliness as preferable to a life of connectedness to others. Rather, I am saying that when moments of loneliness do come, they present us with opportunities for growth.
Nevermind that the professor's question implied not that these students would remain alone, but only that they would remain unmarried. For all I knew, each hand represented a well-connected, vibrant life whose interest lay in friendships alone (or cohabitation). Still, it wasn't something I understood at the time. I didn't want to be lonely, and I couldn't understand how others could choose it, either.
My context-- and, I believe, my maturity level-- changed with time, however, as did my outlook on what it means to be alone. I've found that there is a distinct difference between loneliness and aloneness, and because I believe that experiencing the former is essential to being content in the latter, it has occurred to me that both are necessary parts of human nature. Loneliness can be a stepping stone to choosing either intimacy or aloneness.*
Choosing aloneness, it seems, is something some of us do consciously, and others unconsciously, anyway. A second memory I have from college is a theory of identity development elucidated by a psychologist named Erik Erikson. According to Erikson, there are eight stages that a person faces in his or her lifetime, each of which presents the person with a stage-specific conflict, or "crisis." The one that mattered to me at the time, and which still does, I suppose, was the sixth stage: Intimacy versus Isolation. A person in this stage must determine whether he or she will form loving relationships or be alone. If the individual was unable to resolve his or her identity crisis in the preceding stage, he or she will find it the harder to form close relationships in this one. In his spirit of healthy identity development, Erikson believed it was important for people to form close relationships with others.
As history and our own life experiences have taught us, though, life is not always progressive. Just as we reexperience those unwanted feelings we thought we'd beaten-- anger and disappointment, for example-- so we can reexperience loneliness, even amid wonderful relationships. This is not always a bad thing, however. Not only do experiences like these remind us that we are human, but they also compel us to change areas of our own or others' lives which would otherwise remain stagnant.
My point here is that while we should not invite loneliness into our lives, it is something which can give us opportunity to develop our character.** We can learn through our loneliness how to be alone, and thus how to be content. I believe, in fact, that moments of loneliness-- like moments of pain in general-- can be learning experiences. It is, then, not something from which we should always run. Rather, in the right mindset, loneliness gives us the chance to move in a meaningful direction.***
*I believe that loneliness can prepare us for healthy relationships-- whether friendships or otherwise-- because healthy intimacy occurs between people who are content in themselves and by themselves, between those who choose relationships rather than those who need relationships.
**At first glance, it may seem like I contradict myself when I speak in one paragraph about life not being progressive, and in the next about a progression of character. Both progress and setback can take place in the life of a person without excluding the possibility of either. They are not mutually exclusive.
***Keep in mind that I am not advocating loneliness as preferable to a life of connectedness to others. Rather, I am saying that when moments of loneliness do come, they present us with opportunities for growth.
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