Another observation without a lot of deep insight today. I’ve been alone in my condo for the past 20 days. I don’t have visitors, and I don’t visits other people’s houses. As I’ve said in a few earlier posts, this has led to a mixture of cabin fever, agitation, and just plain loneliness. I have many friends; I must text close to ten people a day, and I speak occasionally to people on the phone or even through video chat, so I am far from isolated. I have books to read and virtually the whole of Netflix and Amazon Prime laid before me. I also get out walking in the neighborhood or on my bike. My situation is no where near as extreme as so many others; however, I find myself thinking how nice it would be to have someone here to talk to, to hear noises in the house and not have to worry about them, to see someone’s real face rather than a digital simulation.
That is until I start talking to my friends who are couples or families. Many of these are facing dissimilar, but just as disorienting, challenges. The constant presence of two or more in limited spaces must feel claustrophobic. The universal stress felt by us all at this time can only serve to accelerate irritation and spur conflict. Even something so basic as the lack of computers or televisions to meet individual needs spurs the ambient tension. A friend of mine remarked this morning that it will be an interesting comparison between how many babies are born out of this time and how many divorces will follow. Or to put it even more succinctly, another friend said, “I would give anything just to be alone for five minutes.”
All of this exists in the greater reality and constant fear of contagion and sickness that we all think about every day. Here as well each configuration carries unique burdens but similar stress. The lone residents wonder about how they will manage illness if it comes to their door. “If I am taken ill, how will I manage?” “What if I have to go to the hospital, how will I get there?”And in our darker moments, “What if I just die alone?” On the other hand, houses of more than one are far more likely to be exposed, as each person brings his or her exposure history into each meeting, and of course if one person gets ill, the likelihood of household contagion is high. So each cohabitant becomes simultaneously a support and a threat. While I can can control a good portion of my I own exposure, those living together need to rely on everyone in the group to do the same, and there is always a weak link.
While this is a classic, “grass is always greener” conundrum, I think it also points to the fact that lockdown and isolation take very workable living arrangements and turn them into the intolerable. Coupling the lack of external stress relievers, granting companionship to the solo or solitude for the coupled, with the general ambiance of uncertainty, fear, and boredom of the time makes for an uncomfortable world where one is far from enough and two are way too many.
Be safe, be strong.
Today’s Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3SVAPOKBL9c9sVMI9BZNp6?si=6-GIMN04SnSdZ6KHmvpjYQ
So many things to consider…but I think that much comes from within…our own attitude toward life, toward our own circumstance. I was born into a big family and have lived with large groups of sisters for most of my life and always enjoyed that.
For the past few years, I’ve lived alone,( but still connected with my community).
I do like living alone; I also have so many connections with friends, families, students etc; however, I can many times choose how much to be involved.Is that selfish???
I’m a “people person” so I do keep involved.
I do enjoy your ruminating, Greg. it always gives me pause to reflect.
Happy Palm Sunday! Sorry I don’t have more emojis