The appeal of desolate places is difficult to understand and much harder to articulate. But for people who are drawn to distance—the privacy of insulating space—the allure is strong and incredibly obvious. Part of the attraction involves numbers; the fewer people in close proximity, the better. Up to a point, but not to the point of absolute isolation. Except that absolute isolation is the point from time to time. Yet, for most people who deeply value solitude, camaraderie is as important—camaraderie in the sense of very small numbers of other people who are extremely close. A small group—perhaps as small as one—of others with whom one is comfortable in sharing intimate details of one’s thoughts and emotions. Crowded cities are not conducive to the kind of desolation these people seek. Prairies and private, hidden refuges separate from the frenetic activities of throngs of people are better suited to such people. The world in which we live is geared toward social engagement, though. The privacy of insulating space is increasingly difficult to find; those places are harder to reach. So adjustments are forced on those not-so-social beings. Weekend getaways. Vacations to decidedly unpopular destinations. Retreating into one’s own private domain. Anything that permits escape from the mental and emotional pressure of engagement for a little while. That need for escape does not indicate that a person is anti-social or desires permanent solitude…he or she may thoroughly enjoy limited social interactions. Escape simply provides relief from the constant bombardment of life in an overly-social world. Temporary relief is better than no relief at all. The price of relief can be loneliness, but loneliness often accompanies the swirl of engagement, as well. Solutions can solve one problem and exacerbate another, thanks to the complexity of human emotional needs. Balance, the supposedly ideal solution, is a theory seldom proven.
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Enough of this morning musing. For now.
