Solitude
I just finished reading Scott Turow's Limitations.
In it, Judge Mason ponders one of his clerks: "John has slid into an increasingly reclusive and eccentric middle-aged bachelorhood.... It is routine to see him by himself in the courthouse cafeteria at lunch .... John never mentions any social engagements, and the common assumption seems to that he's gay. George ... still tends to doubt it. Aren't there genuine bachelors, unable to accommodate themselves to intimacy with anyone, who sink into the embrace of their own peculiarities?"
I often wonder if I have sunk into the embrace of my own peculiarities.
In it, Judge Mason ponders one of his clerks: "John has slid into an increasingly reclusive and eccentric middle-aged bachelorhood.... It is routine to see him by himself in the courthouse cafeteria at lunch .... John never mentions any social engagements, and the common assumption seems to that he's gay. George ... still tends to doubt it. Aren't there genuine bachelors, unable to accommodate themselves to intimacy with anyone, who sink into the embrace of their own peculiarities?"
I often wonder if I have sunk into the embrace of my own peculiarities.
posted by Lisa Fox at 8/18/2011 11:39:00 PM
15 Comments:
Some of us, no matter what our orientation, are simply called to be single. Some not forever, some yes. The day I made peace with that possibility was one of the best days of my life. It doesn't mean it will last the rest of my life, but once I accepted that this was, indeed, a calling, I became way, way more okay with it. I now have a peace I never had before. Just a thought.
I've made peace with my singleness, Maria. But I loved Turow's line: "sinking into the embrace of our peculiarities."
The longer I live alone, the more I recognize that truth.
It makes my heart glad to see your blog pop up in my reader Lisa. So your return to blogging is welcomed by me. I have become so scattershot and unfocused about blogging. As to good writing, you have many gifts. (These are really comments for the *other* post, but put here!) Maria, who is so eloquent and writes so often and many others are living out their particular gifts! For those of us who are less present, so be it!
I am a little reluctant to comment here, but I shall try. I loved living alone and not unlike Maria, and you - I really made peace with my singleness. In fact, I had a hard time imagining living with another!
That said, I think that Turow's line has a lot of truth and we do "sink" into that embrace. I like the way that is put. Now I ended up married, a condition that I initially imagined might be lived out in two homes in two cities, as many do. We are under one (small) roof together and with a teenager no less now!
In any event, that embrace is an important one and there is so much truth to it.
It makes me wonder about my peculiarities that may have gone hiding now... but I'm pretty sure they are still there, in full array. Which, if I had married earlier, might not be the case.
Does any of this make any sense? Pre coffee commenting is always a risk.
Glad to see you post!
I can see how I was in that description--still am to some extent. It's why BP describes the beginning of our relationship as "pulling me out from under the rock."
To be alone, not lonely, is a gift. To be embraced by one's peculiarities can be a luxury. One just needs to be aware that one can emerge therefrom!
Also with Fran, glad to see you back blogging, Lisa.
The only part I would disagree with Turow is to "sink" into them. I think it's the other way around. Once we embrace them, we literally glow from them. To me, it's how the Light of Christ shines brightly from and around us...
Fran, I’m honored to see your comment here. While I haven’t been writing, I have been reading, and you are an awesome blogger!
I take great joy in the fact that you and Doxy found deep friendship … which eventually led to marriage. Your stories give me great joy, though I have given up myself.
I will confess that I love living alone. I can’t imagine anyone putting up with my idiosyncrasies at this point. I think only my cats would tolerate them.
I didn’t realize you expected to live “together, but apart.” I am glad you have found yourselves under one roof.
Truth be told, I really cannot imagine giving up my peculiarities for the sake of a partnership/marriage. I am in awe of those who do. It would be lovely if I found a soulmate for whom I would do that. I just don’t see it happening.
Grateful for this dialogue with you.
You make me smile, IT, and I give thanks that BP was able to "pull you out from under the rock."
I'm content in my solitude. It's when I forecast forward that I get a bit anxious. Ugh Who will pull the plug on me when the time comes?
Thanks for the blogging encouragement. I'll try to do better and not psych myself out.
KirkE, I think you may have misread Turow's (and my) understanding of "sinking." It's not a decline. For me, it's more like "sinking into the arms of God" -- a relaxation. Not a diminution.
Interesting quote and description. I have been withdrawn from a social life all this year...wounded animal syndrome I think on the one hand, on the other, well, hard to describe...it is not peace, it is not solitude...it is inward social withdrawal that I cannot explain; I don't like it but there it is...working on it. This is a good discussion/comments.
Your post has made me think all day, Lisa (imagine that!).
I want to find/be with "That Special Someone" . . . but I don't need to (say, in the same way I NEED quality solitude!).
I don't think that makes me (especially!) "peculiar"---just that I know myself (Please no "Biblically?" jokes, about which the less said, the better! ;-p)
Perhaps --yes, sometimes I slip into the embrace of my peculiarities... Perhaps it is just part of the human condition, single or not.
I think maybe I understand, Catherine. I'm in that weird place, too.
Turnabout, JCF, for you often give me much to ponder.
But, my friend, I'm not even sure I want to find "a special someone" anymore. I fear I am too set in my ways.
NO! I don't think you're peculiar at all!
Turnabout, JCF, for you often give me much to ponder.
But, my friend, I'm not even sure I want to find "a special someone" anymore. I fear I am too set in my ways.
NO! I don't think you're peculiar at all!
Dear Margaret, I think you have found a partner who can embrace your peculiarities. I envy that ... in a very good way!
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