have to explain how much – at certain points – we need to be alone. We may try to pass

off our desire as something work-related: people generally understand a need to finish

off a project. But in truth, it's a far less respectable and more profound desire

that is driving us on: unless we are alone, we are at risk of forgetting who we are. We,

the ones who are asphyxiated without periods by ourselves, take other people very seriously

– perhaps more seriously than those in the uncomplicated ranks of the endlessly gregarious.

We listen closely to stories, we give ourselves to others, we respond with emotion and empathy.

But as a result, we cannot keep swimming in company indefinitely. At a certain point,

we have had enough of conversations that take us away from our own thought processes, enough

of external demands that stop us heeding our inner tremors, enough of the pressure for

superficial cheerfulness that denies the legitimacy of our latent inner melancholy – and enough

of robust common-sense that flattens our peculiarities and less well-charted appetites. We need to

be alone because life among other people unfolds too quickly. The pace is relentless: the jokes,

the insights, the excitements. There can sometimes be enough in five minutes of social life to

take up an hour of analysis. It is a quirk of our minds that not every emotion that impacts

us is at once fully acknowledged, understood or even – as it were – truly felt. After

time among others, there are a myriad of sensations that exist in an 'unprocessed' form within

us. Perhaps an idea that someone raised made us anxious, prompting inchoate impulses for

changes in our lives. Perhaps an anecdote sparked off an envious ambition that is worth

decoding and listening to in order to grow. Maybe someone subtly fired an aggressive dart

at us, and we haven't had the chance to realise we are hurt. We need some quiet time

to console ourselves by formulating an explanation of where the nastiness might have come from.

We are more vulnerable and tender-skinned than we're encouraged to imagine. By retreating

into ourselves, it looks as if we are the enemies of others, but our solitary moments

are in reality a homage to the richness of social existence. Unless we've had time

alone, we can't be who we would like to be around our fellow humans. We won't have

original opinions. We won't have lively and authentic perspectives. We'll be – in

the wrong way – a bit like everyone else. We're drawn to solitude not because we despise

humanity but because we are properly responsive to what the company of others entails. Extensive

stretches of being alone may in reality be a precondition for knowing how to be a better

friend and a properly attentive companion. Our Calm prompt cards can help us to find

serenity despite daily anxieties and frustrations, to find out more, click on the link now.