To Keep Company With Oneself

Philosophy student Jennifer Stitt writes a thoughtful essay asking whether we would become lonely in solitude or find new depths? Philosophers have long distinguished between solitude and loneliness. Emerson celebrated the former, in which "nature may speak to the imagination, as she never does in company." Socrates celebrated the soundless dialogue "which the soul holds with herself." And in the 20th century, Hannah Arendt muses, "Thinking, existentially speaking, is a solitary but not a lonely business," reminding us that the self "is the only one from whom you can never get away - except by ceasing to think."

by Ann Stoneson

I don’t know about you, but I have a menu full of ingenious ways I can check out and step away from the desk of my life for a little while.  This can be a valuable tactic when you’re in the middle of a crisis or just really, really busy and need to unplug from life for a bit.  But, sometimes it can backfire.  If we’re not careful, we can get stuck in a life that feels like it’s on autopilot.

So, today I’ll be tackling the radical notion of showing up and keeping yourself company for a change.  It’s a user-friendly form of mindfulness.

Mindful.  What?
Until recently, when I thought of mindful practice, I’d think of devout monks praying, or lengthy meditation sessions before a sacred space.  I didn’t have a good grasp of the practice and its wide-ranging and versatile uses.  So, I’ve been delighted to read lately about the experiences of folks who find that a traditional meditation practice doesn’t suit their personality or their lifestyle.  (What can I say?  I delight in knowing that I’m not the only atypical student out there.)

Sometimes a traditional practice suits me just fine.  On those days when I can afford myself 15 minutes of quiet meditation, I feel very, very lucky.  I notice that I feel calmer.  Things go more smoothly.  I have more patience.

But, rather than adding “15 minutes of meditation” to the task list and watching it get crowded out 5 days of 7, I’ve decided to take a different approach.  I know the pace of my life these days, and I refuse to sign myself up for failure.  So, I try a little compassion on for size (also very mindful!) by crafting this time-honored practice into something that fits me.

What's it look like?
Here’s what I do:  I keep myself company.

This is my language for being present and aware of what it feels like to be in my own skin.   It means a certain kind of quiet attentiveness, the sort of presence I bring into the therapy room.  I get to have a little bit of my very best.  I show up, interested and curious about what I think and feel in that very moment.

It’s nice to receive the gift of my own undivided attention.

I sit and listen to my inclinations and try to notice subtle shifts in my mood.  I ask myself what I’d like to eat for lunch, what I’d like to do.  I try to be playful.  I try to be accepting and gentle of whatever I notice.  These are my best parts, the aspects I love to lavish on others but find few occasions to turn inward.

Here are a few quick pointers for keeping yourself company:

1.)     Do a quick body scan.  Notice if you feel any pain or discomfort.  Do what you can to address that pain—breathing through it, a quick trip to the medicine cabinet, a soothing hand on your stomach… you get the idea.

2.)    Feed and water yourself.  I think just about any form of self-care goes over better with a bit of nourishment.  Don’t forget bathroom breaks, too.

3.)    Tune in.  I take a moment to really listen to the internal chatter in my head.  I try to peel back whatever worries or judgments are there and look underneath them for a feeling.

4.)    Be nice.  Whatever feelings come up, be nice to them.  Judging feelings is a surefire way to make them balloon into something much bigger.

How’s it sound to you—an afternoon in your own company?  If it sounds bad—boring, scary, strange—edit it until it feels right.  If an afternoon’s too long, try just checking in with yourself for a breath or two at a time.