Aloneness in relationship

My personality has a melancholic edge to it. The type that often lures me away from the crowds, to a quiet place, to ponder life, to ponder meaning and my place in it. At the same time, I find myself often surprised by myself, by my lack of awareness of what really makes me tick, of what things I enjoy for the pure sake of enjoyment. I neglect balance, often focusing on efficiency and values and achievements, rather than creativity and joy and spirituality.

I am however very open about my inner workings, whether to husband, or friend or passerby. I've always been brought up with transparency and honesty as virtues. So the following passage took me a little by surprise, the idea that perhaps a careful cultivation of "inner mystery" is in line.

Henri Nouwen in 'Reaching Out', writes:

"But real openness to each other also means a real closedness, because only he who can hold a secret can safely share his knowledge. When we do not protect with great care our own inner mystery, we will never be able to form community. It is this inner mystery that attracts us to each other and allows us to establish friendship and develop lasting relationships of love. An intimate relationship between people not only asks for mutual openness but also for mutual respectful protection of each other's uniqueness." From 'Reaching Out' (US, Doubleday, 1975, p 31).

Perhaps most challenging are our intimate relationships, where we seek to grow close by sharing everything of ourselves, each confidence traded in the hopes of further intimacy. We're so desperately scared of aloneness, not just physically, but of being alone while in a relationship, of not connecting, not being real.

But upon reflection, this is surely a dangerous gamble, with so many relationships ending with one lover feeling crowded out, disliking the now perceived 'clinginess' of the other. In a popular wedding reading, Kahlil Gibran speaks to this:

"Sing and dance together and be joyous,
but let each one of you be alone.
Even as the strings of a lute are alone
though they quiver with the same music.
Stand together yet not too near together
For the pillars of the temple stand apart,
and the oak tree and the cypress
grow not in each other's shadow."

How well do I "protect with great care [my] inner mystery"? How well do I cultivate my self, apart from my husband? Apart from my family and close friendships? Yes, I take time to be alone, but why, and what is the outcome of this time?

Over the past year or so, I have spent more time than ever with my husband. Traveling has meant we often live in each other's pockets, with little opportunity to be alone. Perhaps the failure to prioritse time alone, away, drains us of our creative ability to come together and give to each other something new. To remain separate, a distinct person with distinct things to bring to the table. Of course this can never be our aim, to cultivate aloneness and uniqueness, for the sake of the another. That surely runs the risk of negating the whole purpose.

To successfully be in close relationship with someone for a lifetime, surely necessitates this cultivation of a self apart from the self that exists in relationship. Not only simply to bring something new to the relationship, but to retain your unique self, as you were meant to be, to ensure it is not lost in the expectations of others or ebb and flow of a relationship.