Time alone: putting a bit of solitude into your life is essential to your health and happiness - Inspirations

Loners have long had a bad rap. We characterize them as outcasts and undesirables--old maids at best; at worst, potential Unabombers. But experts are now suggesting that it's not spending time alone that can make you sick--or at the very least stressed-out and unhappy.

Depriving yourself of solitude "is the cause of many manifestations of psychological and physiological distress" states psychiatrist T. Byram Karasu, M.D., in The Art of Serenity. "Being with other people for long periods of time, no matter how loving, wonderful and interesting they may be, interferes with one's biopsychological rhythm."

According to Karasu, this rhythm is a combination of the body's circadian cycle and the hormones and neurotransmitters that affect factors such as mood and sleep patterns. Each of us creates our own inner pulse to help us synchronize with the solar, lunar and other cycles of the outside world. The constant presence of others can literally throw our rhythm out of sync.

As a person with a great natural leaning toward solitariness, I have felt this interference all my life. But I never knew it had a name or an explanation. Eager to find out more, I called psychologist Ester Schaler Buchholz, Ph.D., who in her book, The Call of Solitude, introduced the concept of alonetime, describing it as "a basic need," as essential and universal as the need to bond with others. Buchholz comes to this belief through a series of infant studies and analysis of historical and anthropological data, as well as studies on how meditation, rest and relaxation bolster the immune system. When we don't get enough solitude, she says, "we get very out of touch with ourselves; we get forgetful; we get sloppy." Depending on our personalities, we can get angry, anxious and depressed as well. Modern life, filled with cell phones and pagers, with e-mail and express mail, with televisions that offer 300 channels, is far more tumultuous than in the past.

Perhaps because solitude today is less available and yet more necessary than ever, defending it has become something of a trend. In the online magazine To-Do List, Sasha Cagen coined the term quirkyalone to describe someone who is "deeply single" and would "prefer to be alone with [his or her] own thoughts than with a less than perfect fit." The term, with its geeky-cool positiveness, became an instant electronic hit, and Cagen went on to establish the first International Quirkyalone Day this past Valentine's Day.

Anneli Rufus has chosen to take the negative connotations of aloneness and turn them into points of pride instead. Her book, Party of One: The Loners' Manifesto, is an unabashed celebration of people like herself, "who know how to entertain ourselves ... how to contemplate and how to create ... who have a knack for invention, originality [and] visions." But Buchholz, who prefers the term soloist to loner, believes that it's not just artists or inventors who need solitude, it's all of us. She prescribes alonetime--defined as periods away from others, preferably unplugged and unstructured--to everyone, even those to whom it does not come naturally.

'harmony to the mind'

When I enter an empty room alone, the door closes behind me with a sweet chime of relief. Every neuron relaxes, and my mind and body feel free, finally, of all constraints and pretensions, of all pressures to please and impress and entertain other people. I may sit down to read and write; I may play music on the stereo or on the guitar; I may wander in circles from corner to corner, watering plants, sorting through paperwork, looking at the colors of the walls. But somehow the whole world seems less urgent, more manageable. Though in social situations I am often the life of the party, it is only when I am alone that I feel fully myself. In the presence of others, I never quite see or taste or understand things all the way. Others may get anxious with the closing of the door, but I get a sense of peace. I feel most comfortable, though not necessarily happiest, being by myself.

Not everyone finds such comfort in solitude. Through a combination of genetics, upbringing, and social stigmas, some people enter solitude with fear, dread or distaste. The door to the empty room shuts with a gloomy thud and they reach immediately for the phone. My friend Rachel is one of those people (so unlike me) who simply think and feel better when people are around. Solitude is not enjoyable for her, though she admits, "I know I should have more of it than I do"

Even a "people person" like Rachel probably requires, and generally constructs, some measure of solitude, whether she's aware of it or not. "It's the idea of alonetime that scares people," Buchholz says. But the reality is that most of us fit it into our lives, in chunks large or small. When we pray or meditate, practice the clarinet, take a nap, or just step into a quiet elevator, we are addressing our need to break away from the world, if only for a moment.

From a very young age, declares Buchholz, we have both the desire and the capacity for solitude; babies stare into space when they need to disengage, and toddlers and teenagers say, "I can do it myself" or "Leave me alone." This time apart helps us to develop confidence, competence and resilience. It also allows us to exercise our imaginations and creativity, resources that all of us, not just professional artists, need in order to solve problems and navigate through life.