Being solitary is being alone well: being alone luxuriously immersed in doings of your own choice, aware of the fullness of your won presence rather than of the absence of others. Because solitude is an achievement.—-Alice Koller
I sit alone in a crowded restaurant. On my right, there is a couple, who seem too careful during the meal. Her blond hair behaves even though the wind is blowing. She chews with her mouth closed and she laughs inside herself instead of being too loud because it may reveal too much. The man tries too hard, the sports jacket and khakis don’t make sense in ninety degree weather. My eyes dart to my left, where I see two men, raising their beers, saying cheers, the bottles cling echoes in my ear. A mom sits with her four year old, her pigtails curve up like a smile.
I look down at my table and see only one place setting, a single glass and no one sitting across from me. In my teens or my early twenties, the thought of eating alone in a crowded restaurant caused a rippling anxiety in my stomach. What would other people think? Would they feel sorry for me? How would it look? Too concerned about other people’s judgments, I strayed away from eating alone. Instead, I craved noise and the security of family and friends in my dining experience.
In the last five years, I’ve noticed a shift in my own personality. I enjoy silence. Too much chatter and noise makes me nervous. I like holding on to empty space. In my kitchen, I quarantined a cabinet, deciding that I wasn’t going to fill it up with anything. Sometimes I look to that cabinet space as a reminder to honor the quiet. I’ve talked so much about stillness and my inability to achieve it. And that my restlessness prevents me from pursuing meditation and yoga on a consistent basis.
But as I sat in the restaurant, I realized I’ve made progress. I walked into the restaurant and with confidence asked for a table of one. As I ate my salad, I savored each bite, tasting the texture of the romaine lettuce and the crunch of the croutons. I smiled as people passed me, looking at them in their eyes, not afraid of their reaction.
Another part of me acknowledges that I still have some more to work to do. Eating alone doesn’t mean staying out of touch. Of course, my iphone sat next to me, settling in as my lunch companion. I perused Facebook and texted a few people while I drank a sip of my water. I knew my mind failed to embrace the purity of the solitude.
I suspect I am still afraid of completely dipping myself in the quiet.
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Are you afraid to eat alone? Do you fear what others think of you when you eat alone? Do you have an empty space in your home or elsewhere honoring quiet?
Welcome! I am a lawyer turned freelance writer, essayist, and editor. On staff at Literary Mama and the co-founder and co-editor of the literary journal, The Sunlight Press, my essays and reported work have appeared in The Washington Post, The Lily, Saveur, Civil Eats, Brain, Child, ESPN and elsewhere. I am currently at work on a memoir on grief and culture and how it provides perspective on life’s ordinary graces. I invite you to appreciate the ordinary with me. I hope my daily practice of seeing the magic in the mundane helps you celebrate and find more of these moments in your life too.
“Loved dipping into the quiet” I too crave stillness. A rare thing in our culture where multi-tasking is a priced practice. Thanks for this thoughtful sharing.
I do think that there is more value in doing so many things at once, that I wonder how much are we really doing well. I believe we are more engaged when we concentrate on one thing at a time. Thanks for stopping by.
I think being alone when we are single is very different from being alone when our days (and nights) are about parenting. We crave that quiet – whenever and wherever we can find it.
This issue of needing a certain kind of solitude is something I was just discussing with a friend. I never seem to have enough hours for everything I cram into the day – and never, never sufficient solitary time when I want it. When I think about the time that is required when in a relationship, I wonder how I would ever be able to enforce some measure of “me” time – and “me” time is what I have been desperately missing for nearly 2 decades. I suppose if you want something badly enough – the relationship and the time for yourself so you can be yourself – you find a way. And perhaps that will be easier when the day-in day-out parenting responsibilities have lessened.
As for eating out alone, I’m okay with doing it in New York and in Paris – where I’ve never felt ill at ease. But a woman eating alone in a restaurant, in most locales, remains a cultural no-no. Just one among many.
Great point BLW. With responsibilities to spouses and kids, it is difficult to find time for solitude. I do think that it boils down to what you value. Even if it is 10 minutes out of your day for some me time, do you sacrifice it for something or someone else? You clearly have to figure out what you are willing to live with.
Its funny, I don’t mind going to the movies alone, but wouldn’t go to a play alone. I enjoy a solo walk, but prefer to do yoga in a group. I find great joy in sitting silently to make something, but eating alone is tricky for me, sometimes. It depends on my mood and the circumstances. But, being with little ones, any solitude is majestic.
“I like holding on to empty space” lovely.
Thanks Kate. I think your analogy speaks of the contradictions that we all possess. I also like group exercise classes, but prefer to run solo or in a pair. I think I could go to a movie alone, but not a concert.
“Solitude is an achievement” — I’ve never thought of it that way. I move in and out of circles for work alone often so for me, it’s less of a fear and more of an innate restlessness. If I see a friendly-looking face while I’m alone sitting at a table, I might make small talk. And like you, I would certainly have some kind of tech device within reach. Where I live, it’s not uncommon to see others alone at a table. Interesting how age really does mellow out some of our anxieties.
I do think age does play a big role in how we view ourselves and others. I think we realize that certain things don’t matter as much. It’s liberating.
Rudri,
I feel much like Belinda. Even though I love my quiet time I would make small talk and like you I would be checking my email or texting. I am glad that the rippling anxiety is gone-good for you !
Sometimes I think I’ve redirected that anxiety in other places. But sometimes, you have to relish in the smallest victories.
I love being alone … movies, dinner, running, anything. The first time I went to a movie alone was in high school, and I worried about what people would think a little bit but enjoyed it too much to really care. And that was high school, where what everyone else thinks is the most important thing! My husband thinks I’m a little nuts, but I really, really do like being by myself. And after long social functions or meetings? It’s a necessity.
I completely agree that after long social functions (i.e. kid’s birthday parties) I long for quiet, no chatter, and just basking in solitude. I love that you really like being by yourself. That’s awesome.
I used to only do things with a partner/companion, but I’ve learned to enjoy my own company. I don’t know if it’s complete solitude, though, because I often have the best thoughts/ideas and wind up scribbling furiously in my notebook. It’s like I’m never alone because my mind never quiets.
I will say that it’s easier to be alone at lunch than at dinner, and I do hate seeing a movie alone because there’s no one to look over and smile/cry with.
All writers carry a notebook with them. It’s a part of the process of memorializing our thoughts. I’m not certain I could go to a movie by myself. Movies seem to lend themselves to a shared experience.
I have always liked being alone. I think a bit too much. And now that I have a family? Being alone is even more appealing because it happens SO rarely.
I don’t particularly like eating alone at restaurants, however. I might be okay with it if I have a book or magazine to keep me company though.
Beautifully written! As usual.
I certainly agree with you Ameena. With family responsibilities, being alone is a novelty. I’ll take any moment I can get.
Thanks for the compliment.
I’ve never minded eating alone in a restaurant or going to a movie alone (which I prefer). Sometimes, me + a good book + a yummy meal = pure heaven. (Your writing is so lyrical. I love coming here!)
Oh yes. Good book and good food – perfect combination.
Glad you like coming here. You are always welcome in my neighborhood.
First of all, I wanted to tell you and forgot that I do like your new website design. Very clean. Easy to read. Second of all…I never minded eating alone as a single person, but now as a married person and as I mature I find sometimes the only place I want to be alone is if my husband is at work and I am at home. The quiet of the house is so peaceful devoid of any busyness or chaos. But if I am out and about, I often wish one of my friends would meet me for lunch or coffee or something. Girl talk is so nice.
Thanks Nikole. Glad you like the new web design. Yes, I think being home alone counts as solitude. I also enjoy hanging out with my friends. I think we all try to seek the best balance that we can. Both are equally important.
I love eating alone…as long as I have my trusty phone or a book by my side. 🙂 Baby steps?
Baby steps for me too Kitch. Maybe we will get there someday.
I avoid eating alone in restaurants, too. I kind of feel like dining out is a luxury that should be shared. I feel guilty going out “just for me.” So silly, now that I think about it!
Windy, I never thought about dining out as a luxury once should share. Now, I think because I have a young one always by my side that it is a luxury to eat alone… funny isn’t it?
I’ve never eaten alone…I think if I did I’d have to take a book with me. I don’t think I could just sit there and eat.
Try it one day Tiffany. I think you might surprise yourself :).
I like sitting in my kitchen and eating alone…but in a restaurant, I would prefer being in the company of my husband or sister. Eating, for me, is a social event. But, doing other things alone doesn’t bother me–going to the movies, to a play, or really any other event.
The importance of what you are saying is timeless: How much can we handle solitude? And does this change with age/maturity? Answers I’m still finding out about myself.
Amber,
I think we all are trying to figure out the solitude question. There are times when I really crave alone time and being quiet with my own thoughts. Other times, I am a very social creature, wanting to be in the thick of things. I find the dialogue here interesting. Clearly there is no one answer on how to find solitude.
I have always been willing to eat out alone, go to the movies alone. Heck, I’ve even gone to concerts alone. It’s one of the things I miss as a mother, great big big pockets of time alone, to think and reflect.
Wow Christine! Concerts alone – that I don’t know if I could do. But I do relate to your comment of wanting big pockets of time alone -it is something I crave too.