Re: doing it alone VS doing it with others
The following is an excerpt from a private exchange that I am publishing with permission and without sharing the personal details of my correspondent. The quoted/indented parts are from my correspondent.
Some people say something like: “Learn to be alone, before you can start living with others” or “To improve yourself, you should be able to solve your problems on your own.”
A general remark about this is that even when something is true, it can be turned into its opposite when it is applied uncritically. It is why we need to consider the specifics of the case and appreciate the nuances. This is what separates the smart person from the wise person: the latter understands when to suspend the application of the rules.
In a vacuum, I think there is nothing obviously wrong with those views you quote. There are scenaria where I agree that being able to resolve your problems will help you deal with other people as well (or “other people’s problems”, if you will). For example, if you live alone you learn to manage your finances, keep your place in a habitable state at minimum, and so on. These skills are useful when you live with others as well.
This is a matter of learning by doing. It helps you also develop an appreciation of the difficulties involved. Think, for instance, about trying to cook. Once you check for yourself that it is not easy to be a good cook, you are more likely to respect someone’s efforts on this front and to better appreciate what they do. Another example is with matters that require years of commitment, such as sport. You will see the average football fan who has never played the sport competitively talk big about a player’s performance. But if you actually try to do what you think is easy, then you realise how difficult it really is—at which point you think twice before spewing nonsense.
Those granted, there will always be counterpoints. If we take the notion of “do it first on your own” to its extreme, then we reach an untenable situation where each person must only figure out everything on their own before engaging with others. But none can be on their own at the outset simply because they are raised in a society and culture that already puts them in the midst/influence of others.
The mindful consideration then is all about finding the right balance.
For example, it can be relevant when talking about romantic relationships. One could say that in order to truly love someone and function together well, one has to love oneself and take care of one’s problems first.
Loving your self is a good basis for a relationship. I have first-hand experience with people who did not have that quality at the time, which made them insecure about the most trivial things. That quickly turns into a toxic or abusive environment, which is not healthy for a relationship (and for one’s own wellness by extension).
Still, I think that the “do it on your own first” does not work for relationships, romantic or otherwise. You cannot learn about others in their absence. When you interact with someone, you are not dealing with an abstract human, but with that specific person. You can only know more about that person through direct exposure to them, not theoretical insights about some generic person.
To me this looks more like a case of overthinking it. Suppose you want to learn more about friendship. One approach is to isolate yourself while you read all the literature on friendship. You have all the theory nailed down, but no actual experience of friendship. Another approach is to spend time with people and get to know what friendship is in practice with its nice and not-so-nice aspects. Perhaps knowing both the theory and the practice will provide you with a deeper understanding of the subject matter. The point, though, is that there will have to be action involved: it cannot be a strictly theoretical consideration.
However, it seems that this way of thinking is flawed. Firstly, it’s hard to imagine someone who solved all of his problems, which would render him ‘ready’ for relationships. Secondly, we all know how enriching the presence of others can be. It’s a pity when people don’t ask for help, because they have an idea that they should be able to resolve the situation alone.
I agree. One can never be “ready” about practical matters without doing the practice. Nothing else to add to that point.
Asking for help involves something else though: trust. Sometimes it is not easy to open yourself up to others because you fear the consequences. I learnt this many years ago when I was doing 12-hour shifts and one day I noted how it is not fair to subsist in such a precarious way. Some smartass who was in a privileged position noted that “complaining is for pussies” and that I should, as a “real man”, take responsibility and power through. This remark was not mindful of my particular case, namely the fact that I was already powering through as someone who has been earning his keep since my early teens. He was lecturing me about responsibility as if I was some ne’er-do-well, not knowing that assuming responsibility is what I always do. Also, he was talking without considering the specifics of why I was even there: there was a global financial crisis that hit my country especially badly and I had to do such work while keeping my mouth shut to not lose the sole source of income available. If I were to be the “real man” he imagined, he would not have liked my forceful reaction. Do not question the commitment of a person who is fighting for the basics.
Anyway, the gist is that there are systemic issues at play that cannot be reduced to mere matters of personal responsibility or outlook. People are more likely to seek help when they know they can trust the person they appeal to for assistance. Since I mentioned this much-touted manhood, it serves as a good example for our discussion. I find that it is harder for men to talk about their struggles because (i) those are perceived as a weakness, and (ii) men are conditioned to think of themselves as a failure (as not “real”) when they are not doing what they are supposed to. And it is not just toxic men who belittle other men: women do it too, calling them effeminate, whiny, and whatnot.
Beside these, we have to consider the nature of one’s job, which has a direct impact on their livelihood. If you work in a place where unscrupulous competition is the norm, such as the world of politics where virtually no-one has honour, you realise that anything you say will be used against you. So you shut up and daydream of alternatives.
There is also a dimension of being used to talking about your issues. If you grow up in an environment of persistent hardship, you are more likely to be self-reliant and resilient, which are often good qualities, but also more reluctant to trust others in your midst. So the “good qualities” are only so to an extent, to connect to my original general point.
Trust, then, is subject to social pressures and expectations. It is situational. Of course, the notion of “let me be ready for it first” can play a role. This overthinking may even be a reflection of the underlying deficit in trust, rather that what causes this deficit. It is all about the specifics of the case.
Do you relate your situation to these thoughts? It seems that you’ve learned a lot through ‘lone’ work. Would you develop your character so well if you received more help from others?
I am definitely the lone wolf type, with both “lone” and “wolf” being relevant descriptors. You see me as the calm philosopher, though this is because I have simplified my environment while I have discovered outlets for my seemingly boundless exuberance. If I am confined to small spaces and forced to not express myself, if I do not have this sense of openendedness and adventure, I lose my vitality to the point of depression, just how a wild animal in captivity is no longer potent.
I do not write this with pride. Everything is both good and bad, depending on the specifics. It simply is the reality of my character and situation.
The upside is that I do not get influenced to do stuff I do not really want. For example, all my friends throughout the years, and most relatives, have been smokers, though I did not try to smoke not even once. Because they knew I do not yield to pressure, they never even bothered to ask. Same for not violating my own rules, such as eating sweets, doing casual gambling, and the like. This attitude of mine is expressed as discipline, where I remain committed to my tasks long-term and do not deviate from them on a whimsy. It is stable and for some may even be boring. One instance of this that is public is my website: it has been going on for 14+ years already and I publish more writings frequently (at times on a daily basis). The same goes for everything I enjoy doing: I do not switch from one activity to another without sticking to anything in particular. If I do something, I will most probably keep doing it for a long time.
The downside of this lone wolf disposition is that I am not easy to approach, even though I am friendly and relaxed. For example, I was invited to an Easter table yesterday. “Do you want a beer?” they asked me. I responded negatively because I quit alcohol almost a decade ago. “Here is some cheesecake!” they said. I declined it because I quit eating sweets two decades ago. “Let’s play bingo; 2 euro to participate!”, which I again opted out of because I do not gamble. So I would talk with people there but I clearly was not one with the company. People were fine about it: I have had a good relationship with all of them for a long time already and have attended many such gatherings. It is just that I do not do what everybody else considers normal.
Another downside of this is that I might appear to be judgemental, even though I am not. People may think that I consider, say, eating sweets to be some sort of sin. Whereas I do not care how others choose to live their life: I simply do not want others to tell how I should live my life.
I will not force myself to be somebody else just to fit in. Fitting in is not a priority for me, perhaps because I know I can rely on myself. Or, maybe, I enjoy the challenge of trying to rely on myself and proving that I can do it. It may all be but a game to me and I am finding the pretext to continue playing it each time. Who knows? Hypotheses aside, there may be latent hubris in my lifestyle: the hubris of me seeking challenges that will ultimately undo me. Greek myths must have been inspired by such real stories. But I try to keep things in perspective and recognise my limits.
Back to your question, I cannot answer the counterfactual. I cannot know what kind of person I would have been had I had different experiences. I suspect I would not be the same. Maybe I would not have the same level of self awareness or competence I have now because I would never have the need for it. Or maybe my competence would be expressed as a knack for trusting others and relying on their judgement rather that going my own way. I cannot tell… Again, this is not a matter of “good” versus “bad” in a vacuum: they are all good and bad in different degrees depending on the particularities.
How to, then, reconcile self-improvement and relationships? Should we drop the expectation of being able to handle everything alone?
What I have learnt is that despite our current trajectory we can always try to have a more balanced approach: to be with others without sacrificing our needs in the name of sociability. Like me accepting the invitation to join the table while knowing I would not perfectly blend in. Where the balance is will depend on the person.
The key is to not go to extremes: the extreme of approaching a subject such as this from a purely theoretical perspective; the extreme of not trying to see things from the perspective of another; the extreme of never accommodating the needs of another; the extreme of not making any effort to improve yourself; the extreme of believing you are defective by design; the extreme of always echoing what others say just to fit in with the lads; the extreme of denying your self to get some short-lived validation. It all comes down to understanding the nuances.