I admit it. One of my attractions to solitude is the free pass it provides – a free pass from should. When you live in solitude, no one cares if you’re naked or nocturnal – as long as you’re self-supporting (sometimes tough in solitude) and not bothering anyone (extremely easy in solitude). Why would anyone care – or even know?
Of course, it’s a good idea to have enough social moxie to get dressed and be civil when you make that run for groceries, collect the mail, or transact whatever business is necessary to maintain yourself and your independence. A standard presentation of conformity at the right times keeps the SHOULD ADDICTS from getting curious or feeling obliged to come take a look – to rescue you or your soul.
It is hazardous to get so comfortable in your solitude that you forget about the should addicts. Difference is quite scary to should addicts. Mostly, they’ll think you should be more social; because if you’re more social, they’ll know what you’re up to. And it’s their fear of the unknown that will send them after you – for whatever reason. So take a shower, wear clean clothes and a pair of shoes when you go to town. Don’t growl at the clerks and bureaucrats (too much). Small prices to pay to maintain the illusion that you understand what you should be doing – whether you’re doing it routinely or not.
If you’re lucky, your friends and relatives (especially adult children) will come to accept your hermitic idiosyncrasy. Maintaining at least some level of ongoing dialog nurtures this acceptance. Presume when they voice their concerns about your situation (alone off in the woods or wherever) it is an expression of love not just curiosity about how you’re using their inheritance. Check in now and then so they know you’re okay and that you still care about them. Eventually they’ll accept you as that rarely-seen character of family lore.
But there is one SHOULD of solitude which I consider a rather important courtesy. Do some emergency back-up planning. Let some trusted other know where to find the keys, passwords, important personal paperwork and mechanical instructions for the property. Avoid burdening your kids or friends with an unexpected, long-distance rescue if something happens. At least try to grease the skids a little in case you exit the scene unexpectedly – whether temporarily or permanently.
It helps to strive for simplicity around the hermitage; but even if you can’t do that, at least finish up that “estate planning” paperwork you’ve been putting off and make sure whoever needs to find it, can find it.
Live the way you want, but try not to leave a big mess. It’s just rude.
*smile*
So true. I’m a writer, also a widow who discovered the sheer bliss of living alone when husband died. We had a good marriage, but no children by choice; however, I have always had loner traits, sometimes felt a drag on my outgoing husband. I’ve lived alone almost 4 years now, and let my “inner hermit” rule.
That said, I truly agree with everything you wrote in this particular post. We must make certain adjustments, if for nothing else except to appease the family and/or protect our privacy. Keeping up a certain demeanor in public (when being in public is necessary) is to our advantage.
Enjoy your blog, just found it the other day along with several other ‘hermit’ blogs.