Splendid Isolation
At my twentieth high school reunion (nineteen years ago!) I spoke to an old high school classmate who was amazed at how many people I’d kept in touch with over the years, as she had lost contact with most of her old colleagues. I told her, “I tend to judge my day based on who I’ve talked to. If I don’t talk to anyone, I feel depressed.” This was a foreign concept to her; she was happy just doing her thing – in her case, athletics – and she valued her day by what she’d accomplished rather than her social interactions.
Of course it wasn’t all social interactions for me: I wrote and recorded songs, tackled significant home improvement projects, practiced various instruments, etc., but it’s true that among my circle of friends, I’ve often been known as the guy who reaches out and plans things. This has mellowed over time, but for years I was a big event organizer.
Yesterday, I hung out with an old friend who said it took him a long time to come to peace with the fact that he’s happiest when he’s on his own and able to listen to music or watch a concert DVD or play the piano. For so long he’d judged his preferences, like there was something wrong with him, but over time he’s learned to accept that he enjoys solitude and doesn’t necessarily care to associate with people on a regular basis.
His realization reminded me of a blog I wrote last year called Pursuing Happiness, in which I described how so often we judge ourselves based on what others are telling us we should enjoy.
We’re told we should see the world, but I don’t particularly like traveling overseas. We’re told to go on cruises, but I didn’t really dig my cruise experience. We’re told to see the latest ginormous concert event, but I don’t want to see a concert at a stadium at all, much less pay a small fortune to see it. We’re told to modernize our homes to match the latest trends, but I like the old, cozy feeling of my 1928 bungalow.
It can take a while to accept who we are and what our preferences are. And I’m not suggesting that our lives should be static and that we shouldn’t stretch ourselves and grow and discover, but it doesn’t have to be what society is telling us. And in most definitely can include spending a Saturday watching concert DVDs.
My buddy found a degree of validation in an old Warren Zevon song called “Splendid Isolation,” a track I hadn’t heard before, but it’s a perfect example of what Zevon was capable of: communicating the truth comedically:
I wanna live all alone in the desert
I wanna be like Georgia O'Keefe
I wanna live on the Upper East Side
And never go down in the street
Splendid isolation
I don't need no one
Splendid isolation
Michael Jackson in Disneyland
Don't have to share it with nobody else
Lock the gates, Goofy, take my hand
And lead me through the world of self
Fun stuff. And look, no one is suggesting that we should live a hermit-like existence. My buddy who likes solitude is also a loving husband and father who has a full-time job that requires constant interaction with others. He’s no J.D. Salinger. And maybe these other responsibilities are what makes alone time so precious to him. Perhaps when he retires he’ll be itching for more communal time.
But whatever. He should do him. I should do me. And you should do you. Yes, I think we all have an obligation to help those around us who are in need. But beyond that, put on that Rush DVD and enjoy!