Solitude and Community: Give Me Some Alone Time!

Part 1 of 2

Sometimes a topic comes up with enough synchronicity in my daily life that I decide to write about it. And this time, the topic is broad enough to warrant two essays: solitude and community. This is part one.

The joys of solitude

I’ve heard it from friends and strangers. I’ve said it myself. My dog has shown me with his behavior that he feels it. It seems like the very leaves on the trees are whispering “I need some alone time!”

What is this call for solitude that seems to be permeating the culture? And why is it so strong now?

My hunch is that there is a combination of factors at play. We are at a time of seasonal transition, which brings with it stress and change. Many of us are finding our local communities to be polarized and loud. In the northern hemisphere, people are beginning to spend more time inside, wedded to school schedules, with summer vacation in the rear-view mirror. In the southern hemisphere, the cabin fever of a long winter has barely broken. No wonder we could all use a bit more space and quiet.

Recently I’ve noticed an uptick in my already strong tendency to seek solitude. As a strong introvert, I typically need a great deal of time alone to process my experiences and recharge my emotional and social batteries. But as a parent, a spouse, a friend, a community member, a psychologist, I’m often participating in social activities that would be a better fit for an extrovert.

Being in community is hard, and sometimes, I just don’t want to do it. I’d rather be a hermit.

Isolation, however, isn’t truly congruent with my values and the roles I’ve chosen to play. Like most people, I draw a fine line between chosen alone time and feeling isolated, lonely, or withdrawn from depression. I want the right amount of alone time, in the forms I choose.

I’ve tried to become more curious about my desire to be alone. After all, solitude isn’t a monolithic concept. What is it that I truly desire from the experience at this point in my life? I’ve noticed that my desire for alone time seems to cluster in four areas, which also seem to be mentioned by the people in my life who are also seeking solitude. Can you relate to any of these desires?


The Desire for Fewer Demands

When I’m feeling burdened by my responsibilities, rushed, or inadequately prepared to meet the demands on me, I guarantee I will be looking for solitude. Some people seek out others in these situations, but I’m like a wounded animal that hides in a remote den. Being alone doesn’t directly  help me. Instead, I use the break from the world to pause taking on anything new and reassess my course of action. I could get the same benefits with other people around if I could make space to acknowledge feeling overwhelmed and need a break from being in a leadership role or having all the answers. Gaining a fresh perspective on how I fit into the grand scheme of things could happen if I’m alone or if I’m with supportive people.


The Desire for Less Stimulation

As a sensitive person, I often find myself on the path toward overstimulation. It’s like the energy of the world is a prickly, too-tight sweater that I can’t take off and can’t ignore. Everything is too loud, too emotionally charged, too bright. In these moments, I crave alone time for the promise of being able to do more to regulate my environment to reduce the stimulation load. That means different things for each of us, but for me, I’ll create as much quiet as possible (no background television or white noise, please). I need to make time and space to hear myself think. I don’t mind certain scents or the feeling of the breeze outside, although for some people, only pristine air or cocooning will do. If I could sufficiently cut down on my stimulus load while people were around me, I might not be craving alone time.


The Desire for Play, Creativity, and Pleasure

Many of the things I do for fun are activities that lend themselves to solo practice, like writing, photography, reading, meditating, and observing nature. If I’ve been cutting myself off from creativity, pleasure, and play, my desire for solitude escalates until I give myself a break from productivity and exercise my freedom and agency for my passions. I know that the more solo time I’m engaging in these activities, the more likely I am to look for opportunities to do them with others, too.


The Desire for Recovery Time

The final time I seek out solitude is when I’m in need rest, self-regulation, and a slower pace. I frequently remind my clients to build recovery time into their schedules: take breaks, leave time to transition between activities, protect unscheduled periods in your daily routine, and get plenty of sleep. I’m guilty of “do as I say, not as I do” far too often, which ups my need for alone time (I love a long nap in an empty house!). Prioritizing recovery time has the paradoxical effect of making me need less time to recover in the long run and less solitude to feel deeply rested and ready for what my day holds.


The Desire for Alone Time is a Blunt Instrument

If you can identify ways that your desire for alone time is a sign of other unfulfilled needs and desires, you are part of the human race. It’s so common! While each of us has undeniable needs for solitude, perhaps we’ve become accustomed to using “alone time” as shorthand that means very little. It’s kind of like saying that “I’m stressed” tells other people very little about the specifics of what you’re experiencing or what might help you shift that experience.

I’m recognizing that my desire for alone time is not a sophisticated signaling system. It’s more like the check engine light in my car, indicating that something is amiss but not pointing to a specific diagnosis or remediation plan. And like the check engine light, if my alone time alarm comes on too frequently, I might start to assume the problem is with the signaling system itself, not an underlying issue. Or I might eventually ignore it entirely.


Being a Loner Isn’t the Only Way to Get Your Needs Met

Whether you’re as much of an introvert as I am or your sensitivity drives you to escape from the world, there are plenty of ways to get your needs met that don’t involve isolating yourself. As much as I’m prone to being a hermit, I know that I also need to be with people for the sake of my overall wellness.

My goal is to stay curious about the context in which my desire for alone time arises. I can then give myself permission to experiment different ways of addressing the underlying desires and needs that aren’t being met in my life. This is the Singularly Sensitive approach in action. And it’s way more effective than retiring to that cabin in the woods I keep eyeing up in my spare time.

In part two, I’ll dive into our need for community, how to meet it, and how to recognize what other needs it might be signaling. In the meantime, let me know what needs you are trying to meet through alone time and if there are other ways you get those needs met.