For most of my life I wasn't a hang-around-the-house kind of person. I convinced myself that I was the extrovert, especially after marrying an extreme introvert and coming to understand his need for solitude. I felt like it was my job, as the outgoing one, to keep our outside lives in balance and act as the social director.
Trying to plan our retirement trip. I was always the one with the calendar covered with sticky notes, doodles, lists, appointments.
Even now there are times that I will join friends for a meal, or an outing, or a game night without him. After all these years we have accepted that we don't need to do everything together. We have learned to give each other space.
But in the past few years, particularly as I have allowed my creative nature to emerge, I have found myself becoming more and more of an introvert. I have learned to value my time alone, and to enjoy the freedom to do things by myself. Even if it's only watching TV alone, or reading a book in absolute quiet, that time is precious.
There is, however, a flip side to that solitude. Even when we value our personal time and space we still need some social interaction. We need to literally see other people, to interact with another human being, even if it's only the checker in the supermarket or the barista in our favorite coffee place.
This guy? He doesn't count as interacting with another human being. Besides, I never even got his name, and we couldn't find a common language. On the upside, this WAS outside my house!
We need, in short, to get out of the house.
There is plenty of data to back up this assertion; I'm not going to search out the studies that support it. If you want the research and the science behind this there are plenty of places online to find scholarly work that backs up the need for humans to have at least occasional interaction with others.
My husband, an experienced introvert, has learned to balance his need for interaction with his need for alone time. He leaves the house almost every day to do the grocery shopping, run errands, and walk, walk, walk. He speaks to the checkers, nods a greeting as he makes a circuit of the mall, or occasionally exchanges small talk with friends he encounters. (In a town this small that happens most every time he goes out.)
On the other hand, I went to work every day in a building with 70 or 80 other people. I worked in a resort hotel where I often interacted with the guests or other visitors, and I had many friends among the other staff members. I always had at least some social interaction with co-workers during the day, and there were always countless brief "How are you?" and "How was your day off?" exchanges.
In our own way, we each got some socializing every day. We each interacted with other humans on at least a superficial level. We greeted friends and strangers and were greeted in return. We achieved our minimum daily social connections.
Granted, his minimum level was apparently lower than mine. I would often stop during the day and talk-even if only for a minute or two-with my co-workers. He would more likely wave hello to someone he knew and keep moving. But either way, we interacted.
This was a beach photo shoot for my job. The pros were taking promo pictures, and I was taking pictures of them taking pictures. Sometimes I got to interact with lots of people during the day!
Now I am retired. I don't go to my office every day. I don't have to leave the house at all if I don't want to. I should go out. I need to exercise, whether that means walking around the neighborhood, running errands, going to the gym or the library-I still need to get out of the house.
And yet.
I have been staying home a lot more than I used to. I don't have a lot of desire to go out, even to do the shopping. The idea of staying in my own house, doing whatever I want to do, is almost overwhelming.
That doesn't mean I haven't gone out. Why, just yesterday I went to have my first cataract surgery. I interacted with several doctors and nurses and receptionists. That counts, doesn't it?
Well, maybe.
But one day in three weeks isn't much, and I need to re-examine my plans. I need to make time in my day to go outside, maybe even get off my own property and see something of the rest of the world.
I was outside the fence, so maybe this was off my own property. But I don't think it really counts. Besides, I wasn't going to get too close to our visitor - they have sharp hooves and didn't seem real friendly!
Honestly, this is a problem I did not expect to encounter. I thought my bigger problem would be the burning desire to go out, to see people, to go places, and to do all those things out in the big, wide world that I hadn't been able to do because I always had to work.
Yet here I am, sitting in my office and quite happy not to put on outside pants and actually walk out the front door of the house. (The back door doesn't count; it is only a few steps from my office door and I'll end up in there if I don't watch out.)
I am not sure what I will do about this, but I do know that I will need to put some form of outing on my schedule. I need activities outside the walls of my home. I need to see someone other than my husband face-to-face.
Right now we are in the middle of a health crisis in this country that is forcing us to stay home, so there are some things I can't do. The gym is closed. Ditto the senior center, local restaurants, movie theaters, the library. Shopping is an act of extreme bravery for people in my husband's and my demographic.
The thing that I find both surprising and scary about this though is that I don't mind. I'm quite content to sit inside, write, read, knit, watch TV, cook, even clean the house. It's kind of a terrifying revelation for me.
Still, the outdoors is not closed for business, and our streets are empty enough that they don't pose a danger. I can wave at people from a distance, see trees and wildlife, walk down to the overlook and stare at the ocean, even take the car to a mostly-empty waterfront parking lot and walk on the beach.
I can get out of the house. And I need to get out of the house. I need to see things outside my own walls.
Get Out of the House is going to be an entry on my schedule at least three or four days a week.
I consider it a moral imperative. (And if you don't know that reference from the movie Real Genius, go find a copy and watch it. You can thank me later!)