The other day an acquaintance of mine, a gregarious and charming man, told me he had found himself unexpectedly alone in New York for an hour or two between appointments. He went to the Whitney and spent the "empty" time looking at things in solitary bliss. For him it proved to be a shock nearly as great as falling in love to discover that he could enjoy himself so much alone.
Loneliness is most acutely felt with other people, for with others, even with a lover sometimes, we suffer from our differences of taste, temperament, mood. Human intercourse often demands that we soften the edge of perception, or withdraw at the very instant of personal truth for fear of hurting, or of being inappropriately present, which is to say naked, in a social situation. Alone we can afford to be wholly whatever we are, and to feel whatever we feel absolutely. That is a great luxury!
For me the most interesting thing about a solitary life, and mine has been that for the last twenty years, is that it becomes increasingly rewarding. When I can wake up and watch the sun rise over the ocean, as I do most days, and know that I have an entire day ahead, uninterrupted, in which to write a few pages, take a walk with my dog, lie down in the afternoon for a long think (why does one think better in a horizontal position?), read and listen to music, I am flooded with happiness.
I am lonely only when I am overtired, when I have worked too long without a break, when for the time being I feel empty and need filling up. And I am lonely sometimes when I come back home after a lecture trip, when I have seen a lot of people and talked a lot, and am full to the brim with experience that needs to be sorted out.
Then for a little while the house feels huge and empty, and I wonder where my self is hiding. It has to be recaptured slowly by watering the plants, perhaps, and looking again at each one as though it were a person, by feeding the two cats, by cooking a meal.
It takes a while, as I watch the surf blowing up in fountains at the end of the field, but the moment comes when the world falls away, and the self emerges again from the deep unconscious, bringing back all I have recently experienced to be explored and slowly understood, when I can converse again with my hidden powers, and so grow, and so be renewed, till death do us part.
Excerpt From Journal of a Solitude
By May Sarton
［参考译文］
独居所感
梅·萨顿
前几天，我的一位善于社交、令人喜爱的朋友告诉我，在纽约没有约会的一两个小时感到莫名的孤单。他“没有活动的”时候就去惠特尼山，欣赏四周的美景，享受上天赐予的独居时光。他发现自己独处也能自得其乐时感到不胜惊讶，其惊讶程度之强烈并不啻于坠入爱河的感觉。
和其他人在一起时也能强烈地感受到孤独，因为和其他人甚至是爱人在一起时，我们有时也会因为双方的品味、秉性以及心情的差异而感到痛苦。人际交往常常需要我们收敛锋芒，坦白地讲，当我们担心在社交场合道出实情会伤害他人或者不合时宜时，应该适时打住。独处时，我们可以尽情地保留本色，尽情地回应自己的感受。这是多么奢侈的事情啊！
我过去20年来，一直过着独居生活，对我来说，这种生活最有趣的一点就是它变得越来越令人受益匪浅。我清晨醒来，看着旭日从海上升起，大多数日子我都是这样过的，知道我接下来的这一整天都不会受到打扰，这段时间里我可以写几页文章，可以牵着小狗散步，可以在午后躺下沉思（为什么人在水平位置更善于思考？），可以阅读，可以听音乐，这时我的内心就会洋溢着幸福。
我只有在疲劳过度，长时间工作、半刻不曾消停，感到一时空虚、需要充实时，我才会感到孤单寂寞。有时当我演讲完回到家，当我见了很多人，说了很多话，需要整理自己丰富的经历的时候，我会感到孤单寂寞。
有那么一会儿，我会感觉房间硕大无比、空荡荡的，我都不知道自己身在何处。我会灌溉植物，也许，像看着真人一样再次看看这些植物，喂养两只猫咪，做一顿美食，这样慢慢地就会捕捉到自我。
我会花点工夫看着田野尽头泉水处波浪起伏。然而，当世界退去，本我会从内心深处的潜意识中再次浮现，重拾最近的体验，慢慢了解；那时我再度与潜藏的力量对话，这样慢慢成长，不断更新自我，直到死亡把我们分开。
［注释］
-acquaintance [əˈkweɪntəns] n. 相识，熟人 a person whom one knows
gregarious [ɡrɪˈɡeərɪəs] add. 社交的，群居的 seeking and enjoying the company of others; sociable
-temperament [ˈtempərəmənt] n. 气质，性情，易激动，急躁 disposition
［作者简介］
梅·萨顿（May Sarton, 1912-1995），生于比利时的沃德尔哥摩。1916年梅·萨顿一家移民美国。1929年梅·萨顿毕业于剑桥中学和拉丁学校，同时开始写诗。17岁时她的系列十四行诗发表在著名的《诗刊》上。尽管梅·萨顿既写诗又创作小说，但最受美国读者欢迎的是她细腻抒情、描写自己生活的日记。其中《独居日记》经久不衰，一直是她最畅销的书之一，为此她在美国享有著名日记体作家的美誉。