The Stigma of Being Alone

This afternoon I took a walk around the parking lot of my apartment complex, as I often do. It forms a loop around the complex which is surrounded by fences and tall trees, and while I sometimes grow tired of its sense of arbitrary confinement when walking, it is also comfortable and familiar, and makes for a nice zone to stay in when I don't feel like wandering far.

As I walked, I was listening to some Alan Watts lectures on my ipod, in which he discussed the issues of human beings seeing themselves as separated from the "outside" world. With the sun and wind on my skin and the trees surrounding me, it was a nice environment to listen to this kind of talk.

After walking for a while, I stopped to observe a pool about five feet wide that had formed in the parking lot concrete from rains the day or night before. It was filled with tiny fragments of shredded leaves, and as the wind played upon its surface, the bits of leaf swayed back and forth in the current, like driftwood in the ocean. The sun reflected off the surface of the pool and created beautiful patterns in the ripples when the wind blew especially strong upon the pool.

As I stood here observing this and simultaneously listening to Watts give his talk, I felt quite a bit of joy and a sensation that is hard to get across. I felt that viewing this microcosm of the world, this tiny ocean, drew me closer to an understanding of things as a whole. I spit into the pool and watched my little knot of saliva drift around with the current, my DNA mixing and flowing with the rest of it all.

While I was pondering this small scene, several cars drove by, and this is what I would like to focus upon in this post, because it made me feel strange.

Here I was, just a common resident of these apartments, enjoying a Sunday afternoon in a relaxed and what I feel is fairly "normal" fashion. But as these people drove by in their cars, I could feel their gaze on me. I felt judged. In my mind, I could imagine what was running through theirs. Perhaps it is simply neurotic imagining on my part, but in the past I have experienced the nature of judgment which occurs when a young man is seen to be engaged in lonesome, contemplative activity. It makes people uncomfortable. It makes them look and say "what is THAT guy doing?" with a defensive, nearly offensive mentality.

Once, years ago, I was doing something similar in the parking lot here, sitting on one of the concrete bars which lay at the end of parking spaces, shirtless and wearing my exercise shorts, simply soaking in my quotient of healthy sunlight for the day. A guy and a girl stopped as they walked past me, and the guy inquired as to what I was doing. Was it not obvious? My answer was that I was "getting some sun," and I think this must have been abundantly clear to the guy who asked the question. What he was really asking me was, "why are you sitting here alone?"

Sometimes I wish to be alone, and I know that overall I am more on the introverted side than extroverted, but I also find myself feeling increasingly lonely as the years pass. I do not wish to live by myself, to be an island to the world. I crave the companionship of like-minded individuals, and not in a superficial way. This is what makes this judgment of the lone man seem especially harsh to me. It feels like a double bind. If one wishes to make friends, it's much easier to do so if one has friends already. Starting from scratch is hard, and made even harder by this peculiarity of judgment applied to those who are alone. I know very well that if on that day when the couple crossed my path and the guy asked me a stupid question, it would not have happened if I had been seated with another person. Similarly, if I had company while observing the small pool today, I would have felt no neuroticism at the gaze of passing vehicles. To be with another is, in some way, to be validated. It displays to the world that your activities are consented to by a second party, and that they are shared. It is "social proof."

I think that one reason I feel judged for my activities is that they are, I suppose, rather abnormal. Individual contemplation of a pool is not something celebrated by our society. We put "communing with nature" on a pedastel, but it is not to be done in the context of urban life. You must remove yourself from the city or town to do this in a "sane" manner, unless it is in a public park or a river, or a similar intentionally "natural" place within a populated urbanized zone. Staring at a pool of water collected in concrete is not an acceptable thing to do alone. In a couple, especially a romantic one, this could be seen as acceptable due to the tinge of romanticism involved. "Oh look, those two lovers are enjoying the natural within the realm of the unnatural, how romantic!" I believe that even two men engaged in such an activity would be seen as an oddity and some sort of a vague threat, albiet less so than one man or woman doing it by themselves. This kind of individual reflection is so far off the beaten path of most peoples' lives that it must be in some form mocked or derided, so as to maintain comfort with the ego.

Maybe this ties in to the entire stigma of being alone. Group behavior is always a concession of minds to quiet themselves of other purposes and thoughts, so as to better facilitate the group as a whole. In many ways, I feel like it serves the same purpose as a blanket or a pacifier for an infant. When with the group, you no longer need worry about your actions being judged. The more you go along with the group whim, the less neurotic you need be about your behavior being seen as odd or erratic or somehow dangerous. Many people find it easy to give themselves over to group thinking and patterns of behavior. Our entire society functions because of people watching the same television, listening to the some music, attending the same sporting events, hearing the same news, and sharing thoughts and experiences in every other common way.

Therefore, the lone individual is an anathema. They must be questioned. Are they with the group? WHY are they alone? What are they doing? To a mind absolutely accustomed to group behavior and group trends of thinking, the solitary, reflective, and unharnessed mind is both a reminder of their mental conformity and a subtle threat of possibly undermining their importance, their group status, and their peace of mind.

Having read over this again, I come to the conclusion that I am probably right about the judgments being levied, and that it is not just a paranoid delusion. So what is the answer for me? I certainly will not cease my lone contemplative activity, and I must accept that I will encounter other people while doing it, from time to time. The only answer is that I must greet people with a smile, and live in the moment. Nothing is as disarming as a real smile, or an honest laugh. Sometimes it is hard for me to face the world in this way, and easy for me to fall into victim-minded thinking, but that sort of thing gets me nowhere. If anything else, I should share whatever I gain from contemplation with others. I think that might be the key to being less lonely, in the end.