[每天读一点英文：那些给我勇气的句子] alone but not lonely

Alone but not lonely 享受独处

要学会如何待人接物，先得学会如何面对自己。

 

 

It scares us more than anything except death.  Being alone.

 

Our fear of aloneness is so ingrained（ [,in'grained || ‚ɪn'greɪnd ] adj.  根深蒂固的; 生染的; 彻头彻尾的） that given the choice of being by ourselves or being with others we opt（ [ɑpt /ɒpt ] v.  选择） for safety in numbers, even at the expense of lingering（ [lin·ger·ing || 'lɪŋgərɪŋ ] adj.  延迟的; 逗留不去的） in painful, boring, or totally unredeeming company.

And yet more of us than ever are alone.

 

While many Americans have their solo lifestyles thrust on them -- people die, people go away -- a huge and growing population is choosing to be alone.

 

In 1995, one in ten U.S. households consisted of one person.  By 1999, the proportion was one in three.  Single men and women accounted for 38.9 million of the nation's 110.5 million households.

 

By 1999, single parents with children under the age of eighteen made up 27.3 percent of the nation's 70.9 million family households.  Meanwhile, many more Americans are divorcing.  In less than three decades, the number of divorced men and women has more than quadrupled（ ['quad·ru·ple || 'kwɑdruːpl /'kwɒd- ] v.  使成四倍; 成为四倍） -- to a total of 18.3 million in 1996, compared to 4.3 million in 1970.  Never before in American history has living alone been the predominant lifestyle.

 

Nonetheless, we persist in the conviction that a solitary（ [sol·i·tar·y || 'sɑlɪtərɪ /'sɒlɪtrɪ ] n.  独居者） existence is the harshest penalty（ [pen·al·ty || 'penltɪ ] n.  刑罚, 报应） life can mete out（申张）.  We loathe（ [ləʊð ]

v.  厌恶; 憎恶） being alone -- anytime, anywhere, for whatever reason.  From childhood we're conditioned to accept that when alone we instinctively（ adv.  本能地; 凭直觉地） ache for company,  that loners are outsiders yearning to （渴望） get in rather than people who are content with their own company.

 

Alone, we squander life by rejecting its full potential and wasting its remaining promises.  Alone, we accept that experiences unshared are barely worthwhile, that sunsets viewed singly are not as spectacular, that time spent apart is fallow（ [ 'fæləu ]   adj. 休耕的，不活跃的） and pointless.

 

And so we grow old believing we are nothing by ourselves, steadfastly（ adv.  踏实地; 不变地） shunning（ [ʃʌn ] v.  避开, 避免） the opportunities for self-discovery and personal growth that solitude could bring us.

 

We've even coined a word for those who prefer to be by themselves: antisocial, as if they were enemies of society.  They are viewed as freindless, suspect in a world that goes around in twos or more and is wary of （警惕） solitary travelers.

 

People who need people are threatened by people who don't.  The idea of seeking

contentment alone is heretical（ [he·ret·i·cal || hɪ'retɪkl ] adj.  异教的; 异端的）, for society steadfastly decrees（颁布; 判决, 裁定） that our completeness lies in others.  Instead, we cling to each other for solace（ [sol·ace || 'sɑləs /'sɒl- ]

n.  安慰, 安慰之物）, comfort, and safety.

 

Ironically, most of us crave（ [kreɪv ] v.  渴望获得; 恳求） more intimacy and companionship than we can bear.  We begrudge（ [be·grudge || bɪ'grʌdʒ ] v.  吝惜; 羡慕; 嫉妒） ourselves, our spouses, and our partners sufficient physical and emotional breathing room, and then bemoan（ [be·moan || bɪ'məʊn ] v.  惋惜, 哀叹, 认为遗憾） the suffocation（ [suf·fo·ca·tion || ‚sʌfə'keɪʃn ] n.  窒息; 压制; 闷死; 窒息状态） of our relationships.

 

To point out these facts is not to suggest we should abandon all our close ties.  Medical surveys show that the majority of elderly people who live alone, yet maintain frequent contact with relatives and freinds, rate their physical and emotional wellbeing as "excellent".  Just as an apple a day kept the doctor away when they were young, an active social calendar appears to serve the same purpose now.

 

But we need to befriend（ [be·friend || bɪ'frend ] v.  待人如友, 帮助） and enjoy ourselves as well.

 

We must relearn to be alone.  Instead of planting our solitude with dream blossoms, we choke the space with continuous music and chartter to which we do not even listen.  It is simply there to fill the vacuum.  We can't stand the silence, because silence includes thinking.  And if we thought, we would have face ourselves.

 

Let us learn, then, from those in search of what they have not been able to find and hold: peace of mind, gentleness of heart, calmness of spirit, daily joy.  Who have come to understand that to know and to love and to be of value to others, they first must know and love and value themselves; that to find their way in the world, they have to start by finding themselves.