One or two?

The endless argument about which is the best lifestyle, living alone or living with someone else, polarises a lot of people. Some reel off all the benefits of being on your own while others say no, no, it's much better to cohabit.

Having spent long periods both on my own and living with someone else, I see the perks and drawbacks of both. But the abstract argument about which is best misses the point, because in reality it's a question of what suits your particular personality. Gregarious types like company, retiring types want solitude.

Personally I much prefer living with someone else. I like the company, the emotional support, the private jokes, the shared experiences, the joint decision-making, the reliance on the other's expertise, the hugs and cuddles. And the bed's a lot warmer!

When I lived alone (for about eight years), I liked the independence, the simplicity of only considering myself, the ability to freely indulge my own tastes, the lack of distractions.

That doesn't amount to much though compared to cohabiting. Being on my own may have been great in some ways, but I was aware there was so much missing. Especially the emotional support, shared experiences and hugs and cuddles.

Living alone is probably okay if you have a big social network - plenty of friends and family to give you the benefits of company - or if you spend a lot of time travelling and you're not at home very much, but if you only have one or two friends, as I had, and you're always inside the same four walls, then it's not such fun.

But I know people living on their own who are perfectly happy and would hate to share their space with anyone else.

Whatever floats your boat....

All too much

It's all too much. All too much.
The world's going to pot.
Britain's going to pot.
The planet's going to pot.
Armies fighting each other.
Religions fighting each other.
Governments fighting each other.
Refugees by the million.
The rich getting richer, the poor getting poorer.
Prejudice of every kind against other human beings.
The British government demolishing every public service in sight.
Oceans full of plastic.
It's depressing and alarming and shocking.
I just want to run away and hide.
Shut it all out.
Live in a little isolated bubble in the middle of nowhere.
With just a cat to keep me company.
And Jenny of course.
We'll tell each other stories
of beautiful, unspoilt places.
We'll sleep and dream and smell the flowers.
We'll watch the sunrises and sunsets.
We'll listen to the birdsong.
No one will know where we are.
No one can bring us news we don't want to hear.
No one can spoil our solitude.
Just imagine that.

All alone am I

It seems there has been a big rise in the number of people feeling lonely. Despite all the media images of happy families and wild parties, many of us often feel cut off and isolated.

In 1982, 76 per cent of those asked said they never felt lonely. But in 2010, only 32 per cent can say that. Is there something drastically wrong with society or are people just less self-sufficient, less able to enjoy their own company?

Maybe it's people in general being less friendly. We're so busy coping with the demands of modern life - with our work, our families, our hobbies - that we pay less attention to others. We don't notice if they're lonely, or even if we do, we don't give them the real affection and appreciation they're looking for.

Or maybe it's a personal failing, an inability to get so engrossed in things that the presence or absence of others is irrelevant. We've lost that knack that children have of utter absorption in what they're doing, to the exclusion of all else. We keep thinking that somehow we'd be enjoying ourselves more if someone else was around.

Or when people say they're lonely, do they really mean they feel bored, or afraid, or confused, and they just want someone to tell them what to do or make them feel better? Not so much loneliness as helplessness.

I don't often feel lonely myself, even though I spend long periods alone. I'm very happy with my own company, and I do find it easy to get totally immersed in something, be it books, music, gardening or just freewheeling ruminations. I'm seldom desperate for a chat.

For me aloneness is not a misfortune. It's something to savour.