Weather in my neck of the woods has gone rather insane of late. Over a foot of snow has fallen on my domain, thus restricting me from my daily commute. School cancellation has further ensured that the screaming of my progeny perforates my eardrums on a regular basis, greatly decreasing my ability to concentrate on the work I am attempting to accomplish. Today, at last, I have returned to my work place and find solace in silence once more. Three days at home is more than enough to instill appreciation for isolation.
In that regard, I find myself wondering if I am at all suited for human companionship. Rather than communicate verbally with others, I prefer seclusion. It is the effort to relate to my wife and children that brings this conception home. The anger, the fighting, weighs heavily on my. I prefer harmony to contention, and those I live with seem to thrive on fury. I find myself reminding those seeking to argue with me that they are continuing their arguments. Rather than confront the issues they are bringing forth, instead I say, “you’re still on the same subject. I will not fight with you.” This requires repetition. If at any point I lose focus and allow myself to discuss the point of their contention, then the flames of their fury are instantly fueled.
Silence. Seclusion. These are gifts I can no longer take for granted. Attempting to draft content from the kitchen table was an exercise in futility. Interruptions occurred continuously. My wife’s frustration with being forced to remain in the house lowered her tolerance for my need to work. I became the sounding board for her ire, and made it known that this was not appreciated.
Now I see that my interaction with others must be limited. It is not simply a matter of focus, it is a visceral need, a requirement for my own mental health. I must be given time to write. I must be given time to create. Without that portal, without that time to focus, I begin to lose coherency. And, once again, I am faced with the thought that I am well suited for extensive deployment to isolated arctic regions of the world, perhaps manning a weather station somewhere far from civilization. Technology permitting, I would happily volunteer for a solo deep space mission to explore the Oort cloud.
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Filed under: Bitching, Daily Tagged: | isolationism, seclusion, snow day
i raised my children. they moved out. i live with a cat and dog. this is not an accident… good luck.
I strive for your condition.
Solitude is grossly underrated…and so peaceful.
It’s like currency, except I wouldn’t spend it.
Peace and solitude are near the top of my list of things needed to survive. I owe my two exes apologies for ever thinking it could be otherwise.
Or they owe them to you.
Cabin fever is a real thing (not the fever but the desperation). When trapped in a building by myself during a hurricane that lasted 4 days, I decided to go for a walk. I was injured. When treated, they asked how it happened. I told them how and they nodded solemnly. It happens!
I was left in charge of a swimming pool out in the middle of nowhere for six months. After several weeks, I began having conversations with the convenience store clerks in town just for social contact. Fortunately, that seemed to do the trick!
I’m sure either the isolated arctic regions of the world or the Oort cloud would be happy to welcome your delightful brand of humour.
Your posts always manage to make me laugh. Thanks
Thank you.
I like talking to people at work … it’s what I get paid to do. I enjoy the interaction.
But when I get home to an empty house at the end of the day … it’s kind of nice … for thinking; although sometimes I think that it would be nice to come home to a few people, but not policemen or anything.
Right. What you want to come home to is someone who appreciates your sense of humor, has nice things to say about you, thinks you’re awesome, and is happily willing to leave you alone when you need time by yourself.
Now that you put it that way. … I just like coming home to an empty house.