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Thursday, August 10, 2017
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
OPINION

NISA KHAN

EDITOR IN CHIEF

SARAH KHAN

EDITORIAL PAGE EDITOR

DAYTON HARE

MANAGING EDITOR

420 Maynard St. 

Ann Arbor, MI 48109

 tothedaily@michigandaily.com

Edited and managed by students at 

the University of Michigan since 1890.

Embracing solitude

ANGELA CHEN | COLUMN

MICHAEL 
MORDARSKI

Short-term memory

R

ecently, on an early Monday 
morning, I was sitting in a 
crowded coffee shop sipping a 

large cup of scalding anxiety stimulant 
as I awaited an upcoming interview for 
an internship. I was running on a restful 
three hours of 
sleep due to the 
after effects of 
spending 
my 

Saturday 
night 

enthusiastically 
switching from bar to bar with old friends. 
So, extremely anxious and lacking in sleep, 
my progress of memorizing answers for 
the interview ahead was interrupted by 
some nostalgia.

Because in front of my table, a young 

boy and his mother were waiting to order. 
And just as I looked up, I caught what 
was just a typical and casual moment 
between them. He was being a kid, 
curiously looking into the cooler near the 
counter at the several treats and drinks 
while holding onto the leg of his mother. 
And she, while answering his innocent 
questions, casually reached down and ran 
her hand through his hair. He looked up 
and smiled at her.

And then there I was, the anxious, 

bloodshot-eyed, 21 year old in a suit, 
staring at these two like a madman. 
My mind, triggered from such a typical 
interaction between mother and child, 
had a nostalgia-fueled recollection of the 
countless days I spent literally looking 
up to my mother while enjoying the 
innocence of childhood. And now here 
I was, a young man in his brand new 
suit, anxiously awaiting a prestigious 
interview, nursing a large coffee to combat 
his exhaustion from an exciting weekend 
— only there because of the undying love 
and effort from his two parents.

Because I often delude myself into 

believing I am a partially self-made 
“man.” That my intelligence, work ethic 
and personality have been, and are being, 
further enhanced and crafted by my 
intervention solely. That obviously I am 
extremely thankful for benefitting from 
the massive investments and work my 
parents did for me, such as the private 
school education, excellent health care 
and lessons in morality and manners — 
but I fool myself into the thinking that my 
more recent past, which has been greatly 
controlled by me, has led me into my 
promising future.

And all it takes is a kid who vaguely 

looks like me to smile at his mother to 
trigger the wave of memories I often 
repress of the undying love my parents 
demonstrated toward me. Not just the 
big things, but more so, the thousands and 
thousands of small interactions we had 
that unfortunately I cannot remember. 
These small expressions of love that 
add up instilling a sense of worth and 
character within a child that I as a self-

serving 21 year old cannot even begin to 
grasp how much effort is required to do 
so.

Former President Obama explained 

this instilled love from the efforts of 
parents best in “The Audacity of Hope.” 
Writing about his daughter’s birthday 
party he explained, “I wonder if Sasha 
will remember that moment when she 
is grown. Probably not; it seems as if I 
can retrieve only the barest fragments 
of memory from when I was five. But 
I suspect that the happiness she felt on 
that (day) registers permanently in her; 
that such moments accumulate and 
embed themselves in a child’s character, 
becoming a part of their soul.”

And that is exactly what happened 

with my parents and I. The countless 
moments and expressions of love my 
parents had toward a young me gave me 
that sense of worth and confidence which 
allow me to passionately pursue my 
future. My qualities and work ethic come 
from the fact that there were people in my 
childhood who loved me unconditionally 
and gave me some sense of worth. But 
the enthusiasm I have of the future 
often can blind me of that past. I’m full 
of energy, excited about what lies ahead 
and constantly preoccupied dreaming 
about what could be in a way that only 
an educated, adept and ignorant young 
person can.

And my parents catch the collateral of 

this. The young boy they raised, the one 
who held their hand so tightly, crawled 
into their bed when he had nightmares 
and asked them thousands of innocent 
questions about the world, is now so 
focused on the present to determine his 
future that his focus often blinds him 
from the previous effort and love they put 
into him. My short-term memory hurts 
them.

I’m busy, preoccupied and always 

excited for the next chapter. But now, 
I’m not entering a new chapter, but a 
completely new volume of life. One 
that feels far more independent 
and exciting but has changed the 
relationship between me and my 
parents. I now have adult problems, 
problems like they have. Sometimes, 
I forget how much I cherish those 
thousands of hours that weren’t 
particularly special or important, 
just brief moments with the people 
who loved me and raised me. And I 
can take some comfort in knowing 
that my ever-present nostalgia will 
constantly remind me of that.

I’m sorry I’m getting older, mom and 

dad, I can’t help it. I’m busy thinking I can 
change the world.

— Michael Mordarski can be 

reached at mmordars@umich.edu.

A

s popular culture suggests, 
adolescence is a time that 
social lives are expected of us. 

With the rise of smartphones and social 
media, the daily flood of Snapchat 
stories and Instagram pictures imply 
more than ever that the best of times 
are had in groups — whether it be 
friends, families or even strangers.

The social taboo against being 

alone is understood since an early age. 
Those who are seen alone are labeled 
laughable and perceived as having 
neither friends nor something better to 
do (enter “when all two of your friends 
are busy” meme).

In high school, I was very much 

alone in this sense. As the result of a 
severe case of strict parents, I spent 
90 percent of my free time isolated in 
my bedroom, my social life confined 
entirely to iMessage and Facebook 
messenger.

But in college, things are different. 

As I met more people and made more 
friends throughout my first year, I 
found myself increasingly accustomed 
to being with others in every area 
of my life — whether it be attending 
lecture, eating, studying or doing the 
bare minimum on a Sunday afternoon. 
Essentially, there is nothing stopping 
any of us from spending every waking 
(and non-waking) hour with company. 
We’re surrounded by people of the 
same age, walking in the same shoes 
and carrying the same social burdens. 
There’s really no excuse to be alone.

Thus, the social dynamic of this 

summer came as a shock to me. With 
the whole campus on a hiatus from 
its usual bustling energy and only 
a few select friends remaining on 
campus, there were no more classes 
to study for together, no student 
activities to summon a crowd, no 
dining hall to serve as a convenient 
meetup site. Many days, I had no 

choice but to be alone.

As summer went on, I became 

suddenly very aware of my lack of plans 
after work and on weekends, which 
both discomforted and disheartened 
me. While I was thankful for the time 
to relax from the chaos of the school 
year, I was unaccustomed to excessive 
free time and saw my lack of plans as 
a personal setback. As I lie in bed for 
hours on end watching “Friends” at 
an inconceivably rapid rate, I couldn’t 
help feeling sorry for myself. Every 
Snapchat story seemed to be an implicit 
jab at my own seclusion, the negative 

connotation of solitude manifesting 
itself as if on demand.

Amid it all, I was forgetting that 

solitude itself is harmless. Sick of 
meaningless self-pity, I finally asked 
myself: in a world without social 
expectations and stereotypes, what’s 
wrong with being alone? If there was no 
social media, no way of comparing my 
own life to others, would my solitude 
still seem so strange, so unacceptable?

Absolutely not, I thought. There is 

nothing wrong with being alone.

Of course, this is not to say that 

we should avoid social interaction 
altogether. While it’s always healthy 
to spend time with others, quality time 
alone should never be underrated.

Remember, there are two ways of 

being alone. The first is loneliness; my 
high-school self is a good example. 
I was averse to company, actively 

withdrawing from social situations due 
to personal insecurities and strained 
relationships. 
It 
was 
completely 

unhealthy and a problem I’m happy to 
leave in the past.

The second is solitude, a wholesome 

state of aloneness marked by peacefulness, 
privacy and comfort with oneself. And 
only when I learned to accept solitude was 
I able to recognize its value.

In a sense, solitude requires self-

confidence to enjoy; when notions of 
social incompetence and superficial 
perceptions are abandoned, it is in fact 
an essential component to a healthy 
social life.

Realizing this, I finally crawled out 

of bed and stopped scrolling through 
the endless internet feeds, using my 
time alone to catch up on personal 
activities that I’m unable to do in the 
presence of other people (and no, I do 
not mean Netflix!). As I reconnected 
with my violin skills, sang old songs at 
the top of my lungs, immersed myself 
in adult coloring books and wrote my 
first poetry in months, my free time 
effortlessly flew by. Strangely, I felt 
tangibly in touch with my whole self, 
but I couldn’t have done it had I not 
been alone.

Of course, I will always welcome a 

good day spent with friends and will 
surely continue to make new ones this 
fall. However, I’ve learned to embrace 
solitude, knowing that no plans should 
be made solely to escape being alone 
— to do so would be to escape the only 
person with which I would spend my 
entire life.

From time to time, we all need 

to wind down and appreciate some 
quality time with ourselves. Don’t 
worry, the silence won’t be awkward.

— Angela Chen can be reached 

at angchen@umich.edu.

Unsigned editorials reflect the official position of the Daily’s Summer Editorial Board. 
All other signed articles and illustrations represent solely the views of their authors.

Solitude requires 
self-confidence to 

enjoy

