Splendid Isolation

At my twentieth high school reunion (nineteen years ago!) I spoke to an old high school classmate who was amazed at how many people I’d kept in touch with over the years, as she had lost contact with most of her old colleagues. I told her, “I tend to judge my day based on who I’ve talked to. If I don’t talk to anyone, I feel depressed.” This was a foreign concept to her; she was happy just doing her thing – in her case, athletics – and she valued her day by what she’d accomplished rather than her social interactions.

Of course it wasn’t all social interactions for me: I wrote and recorded songs, tackled significant home improvement projects, practiced various instruments, etc., but it’s true that among my circle of friends, I’ve often been known as the guy who reaches out and plans things. This has mellowed over time, but for years I was a big event organizer.

Yesterday, I hung out with an old friend who said it took him a long time to come to peace with the fact that he’s happiest when he’s on his own and able to listen to music or watch a concert DVD or play the piano. For so long he’d judged his preferences, like there was something wrong with him, but over time he’s learned to accept that he enjoys solitude and doesn’t necessarily care to associate with people on a regular basis.

His realization reminded me of a blog I wrote last year called Pursuing Happiness, in which I described how so often we judge ourselves based on what others are telling us we should enjoy.

We’re told we should see the world, but I don’t particularly like traveling overseas. We’re told to go on cruises, but I didn’t really dig my cruise experience. We’re told to see the latest ginormous concert event, but I don’t want to see a concert at a stadium at all, much less pay a small fortune to see it. We’re told to modernize our homes to match the latest trends, but I like the old, cozy feeling of my 1928 bungalow.

It can take a while to accept who we are and what our preferences are. And I’m not suggesting that our lives should be static and that we shouldn’t stretch ourselves and grow and discover, but it doesn’t have to be what society is telling us. And in most definitely can include spending a Saturday watching concert DVDs.

My buddy found a degree of validation in an old Warren Zevon song called “Splendid Isolation,” a track I hadn’t heard before, but it’s a perfect example of what Zevon was capable of: communicating the truth comedically:

I wanna live all alone in the desert
I wanna be like Georgia O'Keefe
I wanna live on the Upper East Side
And never go down in the street

Splendid isolation
I don't need no one
Splendid isolation

Michael Jackson in Disneyland
Don't have to share it with nobody else
Lock the gates, Goofy, take my hand
And lead me through the world of self

Fun stuff. And look, no one is suggesting that we should live a hermit-like existence. My buddy who likes solitude is also a loving husband and father who has a full-time job that requires constant interaction with others. He’s no J.D. Salinger. And maybe these other responsibilities are what makes alone time so precious to him. Perhaps when he retires he’ll be itching for more communal time.

But whatever. He should do him. I should do me. And you should do you. Yes, I think we all have an obligation to help those around us who are in need. But beyond that, put on that Rush DVD and enjoy!

Pursuing Happiness

The pursuit of happiness. Nice idea, but it’s a phrase that’s fraught with pitfalls, and all the more in our age of advertising and social media.

What exactly is happiness, and should it even be a goal? I spoke with a friend of mine a few months back who questioned whether people’s desire to be “happy” hasn’t blocked the perhaps more important pursuit to live life “meaningfully.” Are we basically trading in difficult, long-range pursuits for short-term pleasures? What about working hard at something? Of struggling? Of accomplishing something you didn’t think you could do? Of being resilient under difficult conditions? For those types of challenges, at any given moment you aren’t likely to say that you’re “happy,” but it may be those types of experiences that lead to the greatest feelings of achievement and satisfaction.

In today’s world of social media and advertising, it’s hard not to fall in the trap of constantly comparing one’s life to others. Case in point: I have numerous friends who travel extensively around the world, and when we get together it’s natural for our discussions to include some details about their experiences. I often leave these conversations questioning why I don’t travel more.

But the answer is, because I don’t really want to. I have other stuff I want to do. So why then do I still have that nagging feeling? It probably has something to do with the way humans are wired. There’s a good reason why The Ten Commandments include the edict: “Thou shall not covet.” This isn’t a new thing.

I read an interview with comedian/writer Samantha Irby in The New York Times a while back, and she said something very affirming for me:

The thing where whatever you aspire to is a thing we all should aspire to — I hate it. That kind of messaging just exists to make people feel bad. When you flatten everything into “be happy,” it’s like, what does that mean? It means a different thing for you than it does for me.

Her message really hit home. We don’t all have to be doing the same thing. And we don’t have to take other people’s experiences as models to subscribe to.

But this can be easier said than done. I’ve had numerous discussions with friends and family members who’ve distanced themselves from social media due to its ability to make users feel inadequate and unhappy, and I think this should be STEP ONE in the FEAR OF MISSING OUT RECOVERY PROGRAM. When you’re not constantly being bombarded with photos of what a wonderful time other people are having, it’s easier to pursue the stuff that you want to do without the nagging sense that you should be doing something else.

(An aside: it’s also important to note that what you see on social media isn’t the full story. No one is taking photos of family quarrels, delayed flights or child tantrums.)

The 1980’s version of social media was advertising. I think of the old Carnival Cruise commercial with Kathie Lee Gifford singing, “If they could see me now.” (Talk about selling FOMO!)

I remember watching this commercial wondering why my family didn’t get to go on cruises. (Answer: because it would have been a disaster!). For decades, advertising kept telling me how amazing cruises were, and several friends said the same thing. Then, one day, I actually went on a cruise. It was okay. It met the needs of my particular circumstances, but I won’t be going on another one.

Sometimes what’s being sold to you isn’t actually what’s best for you. Go figure.

So go do what’s best for you, what’s meaningful to you, and try do so with a sense of confidence.