Leave me alone

Let's imagine ourselves in the following scene.

A close friend or perhaps our spouse says "I need to be alone for awhile."

OK, what's our response?

Puzzlement? Panic? Frustration? This other person is probably hurt, or sad, or angry or depressed, or all of the above. And it's probably our fault; though they probably aren't going to tell us whatever it was we did.

Now, even if we can avoid such a chain of thoughts, when somebody wants to be alone we almost inevitably conclude that something must be wrong. I mean, people just don't normally choose to be alone.

Or do we?

Certainly our society puts a heavy emphasis on togetherness. As a culture we are very group oriented. We may admire the "rugged individualist," but he or she is always depicted as a bit melancholy or troubled. Shane in the 1953 movie of the same name doesn't ride off into the sunset with a smile on his face.

And I must admit that those of us who write about mental health also tend to focus a good deal on themes like closeness and intimacy. There are scores of magazine and newspaper articles and books on how to love, fight fairly, be more effective parents and have better sex.

Yet, despite all our emphasis on being with others, the reality is that being alone is just as important to our individual and, paradoxically, our relational health.

All of us need a certain degree of alone time or distance from other people. It is important that we have regular times in our routine when we can choose to be by ourselves. And this alone time needs to be seen as normal and healthy.

Such time to ourselves is valuable for a number of reasons. It allows us to slow down, to collect our thoughts, to gain a bit of perspective, to think more clearly. Problems appear less threatening; solutions come more easily.

Being alone also allows us to "recharge our batteries." With a bit of distance from the demands of our relationships, we are able to renew the mental, emotional, spiritual and even physical energy it takes to be with other people.

Our distance even helps us to better appreciate our need for closeness. Constant, intense togetherness can actually blind us to how important the significant people in our lives really are. We not only begin to take them for granted, but even sometimes resent their presence. Our time alone reduces this friction, and enables us to recognize the real value of our relationships.

Of course the need for such alone times varies from person to person. Some of us need a great deal of space, others only a little. And, needless to say, this can cause problems in our relationships if we aren't aware of or don't accept these differences. One person can wind up feeling rejected, the other threatened, as we each seek to meet our own needs.

The key, then, is to develop our mutual awareness of each other's needs, and to find a middle ground we both can accept. Even between persons with dramatically differing needs for distance, some sort of satisfying compromise can usually be reached with some work, especially if we both have felt hurt and angry about our past struggles to find such a compromise.

Time to ourselves can sometimes feel uncomfortable or lonely. That suggests to me that there is a problem not in being alone, but in our being. We may be trying to avoid certain thoughts or feelings we find difficult. Or we might equate being alone with rejection. Or perhaps we are struggling with feelings of worthlessness. These and other issues can sometimes lead us to avoid time alone and they need to be addressed.

All in all, a bit of distance now and then seems awfully important.

"I need to be alone for awhile."

"Hey, don't we all?"

• The Rev. Ken Potts is a pastoral counselor and marriage and family therapist with Samaritan Interfaith Counseling Centers, Naperville and Downers Grove. His book, "Take One A Day," can be ordered at local bookstores or online.