Alone, but not lonely. A dialogue with the self.

It is a comforting thing to find a piece of literature that conforms closely with ones own particular unique take on the experience that is existence. Doubly so when that perspective is fairly skewed from the perceived societal 'norm'. 'Party of one - The Loner' Manifesto,' by Anneli Rufus, is for me one of these self-assuring books.

I am a loner. I feel no shame in declaring this, and nor should I.

The Loners' Manifesto attempts to explain what exactly this means to those who the book refers to as 'non-loners' (an admittedly divisive and ugly term). Split over 17 chapters ranging in topics including 'Friendship', 'Advertising', 'Childhood' and 'Crime' the author describes our non conformational behaviours, why we do them, how they are often misunderstood, and explains how to (where appropriate) perhaps better facilitate them.

But what does being a loner mean to me? The book uses a turn of phrase that I find particularly apropos: 'We need what others dread, we dread what others need.' This adage refers to the dichotomy of solitude versus social interaction. As a loner I prefer to spend the majority of my available free time by myself. In a world filled with socially inclined extroverts this behaviour is often construed as alien, unthinkable. In today's society the value of ones time is compared proportionately to the amount of other people it is spent with. Time spent in solitude is undesirable, worthless - boring. Nothing of significance can be achieved or gained through isolation.

This is of course entirely untrue. We need only look at writers, artists, scientist and composers to see that solitude can nurture genius. Creative pursuits are avenues through which we are able to channel and share the self - a painting, a novel or a symphony; Products of a solitary mind expressing its intangible inner world in a medium appreciable by an external audience.

The opposite an also be said to be true. Negative lonerism confines the individual to their own inner world, their sanctum shut of and removed entirely from the external. Recluses, hermits. The ageing Howard Hughes comes to mind.

While not all loners are creative types, inhabiting the inner world of our own thoughts seems be a common unifier. It is this contentment with out own company, to not require others that separates us from non-loners. To be alone with ones thoughts is to confront the grand cynicism on the self: the reflected mind inevitably questions itself, evaluates itself, finds itself wanting. External validation is one method of taming this void, escapism into the imagination, a desire for learning and self improvement are others.

To eschew social interaction entirely is not the goal (at least in my case), merely I wish to ration my meetings into meaningful episodes. My friends are incredibly valuable to me - sources of discussion, expression and well, fun. Misanthropy does not automatically accompany lonerism.

Next time you find yourself alone, take the time to evaluate your relationship with the self, for it can be your greatest ally, or an inescapable enemy.