Introverts of the World, Don't Unite

Today I remembered a cute cartoon from some years ago, of a stick-figure young woman going about a happy day on her own. She played with her dog, had her lunch, read books, went for walks and bicycle rides, and tended her garden. It made for a fine counter to those folks who just can't seem to understand how people can be happy living on their own, without a lot of social contact. Introverts, in other words. People who like to be on their own, people who actually become stressed and unhappy if forced to spend too much time in social situations.

I'm an introvert down to my toes, despite my highly social and public profession as a musician, public speaker, and teacher. I spend a lot of time interacting with people. But that's precisely why I have such an intensely guarded and solo private life. My happiest times are always when I'm on my own, living my life as I see fit, without social interaction to speak of save very basic stuff.

My basic introverted nature explains my decision to live a good two hours away from the city where I work. At least three times a week, sometimes more than that, I am obliged to go on a bit of a trek via car and BART to get from Brentwood to San Francisco and back again. A lot of people would conclude that it isn't worth the hassle. To me, it's worth it and then some. And it isn't just for the happiness of owning a nice home that I couldn't conceivably afford in San Francisco. It's also for the distance. When I'm here, I'm most manifestly not there. I can leave work behind if I want, because I'm two hours and a world away.

Thus today: nothing scheduled. I got up rather late for me (7:00 a.m.), had a leisurely breakfast, then spent a while taking care of some school work via grading two assignments from two separate classes, both involving writing some comments. All very pleasant work, all things considered. I have a lot of good students and, if I do say so myself, I'm a whale of a good teacher. They're coming along beautifully, either the first-semester class of freshmen who are in my music theory class, or the senior-level students who are studying Schenkerian analysis with me and learning it quite well.

Then it was out for an hour-long walk along one of Brentwood's lovely public trails. A more perfect day could not be imagined, with a temperature in the high 60s and a bright blue sky with just a hint of breeze. On such days Brentwood goes into 'earthly paradise mode' and I'm not really joking about that label. It's hard to imagine a more pleasant place to live than Brentwood, and on a day like this, the sheer joy of being in such an attractive, safe, and clean small suburban city is a palpable thing. There are no vagrants or panhandlers. No U-shaped junkies strung out on fentanyl. No trash or refuse along the paths. No people to avoid. Just nice suburban folks like me, some walking and some on bicycles, all doing precisely what I'm doing – getting out into the nice fresh air and sunshine and enjoying Brentwood's immaculate parks and trails.

Back home; a bit of time spent on the back yard patio, reading.

Then a home-cooked lunch by way of a ham-and-cheese omelet, one of my favorite midday meals and a cinch to throw together. I'm a good cook and I make a good omelet. Followed by a trek over to Sprouts to pick up my favorite breakfast cereal – I ate the last of it this morning – and a few minor supplies. Back home. And now here, at my desk in my oh-so-comfortable family-room-turned-home-office, writing this.

Contentment. No stress. No worries. No noise. And yes, I'm here alone as I'm just about always here alone. Which means that I'm happy, free, snug as a bug in a rug. Anybody who wonders how people who live alone don't get lonely or bored just doesn’t get the introvert mind. I don't get lonely, period. Nor do I get bored. There's always plenty to do – especially here in this house with its abundance of books and music – and I just don't fret about being here by myself. It's what I like. More to the point, it's what I need.