"Each of us, for instance, regards the other's privacy as paramount. Neither touches anything the other leaves lying around -- what's his is his, what's mine is mine. He keeps his own money; I keep mine. He does his own laundry; I do mine. We each buy our own groceries. We alternate cooking dinner and each of us does it with our own food."

    Merrill describes her partner's daily routine: "He takes walks, but mostly he spends the time in his den, reading endlessly and writing his poetry -- with no TV, radio or coffee to divert him. He's been able to exist without colleagues or friends, also without recognition or encouragement, without any outward validations of success," she adds with quiet admiration.

    "He does it on his own internal strength. He's never been published but goes on happily writing his poetry for his own sake, getting up to face the world and live his life without any external aids or resources. I think it's remarkable."

    And yet, she says, wistfulness creeping back into her voice, "living with a hermit isn't easy. Being with someone who creates his own world, internally, and has such different values from our society and culture is a challenge. People tend to see their partners as validations of themselves socially, and yet each of us is so highly individual. Also, I was much more isolated when Dick and I first met, and a different dynamic has been created between us. I've changed much more than he has," Merrill goes on.

    "I think his introversion has pushed me in the opposite direction, and I've become more outgoing. He doesn't resent this, for which I'm grateful. Partly due to his nurturing, I've grown a lot stronger in our years together. I've taken on more challenges, become more involved in teaching and various community and art activities. I've also been going to a counselor to help resolve some of my issues. Even though it wasn't couples therapy, I think it's helped our marriage."

    Merrill laughs. "You might say our motto is 'Live and let live.' But our life together affirms that the things two very different people can give each other are more important than the things they can't give," Merrill sums up. "And that's enough."

     It's more than enough, it's essential, says Knocks, even for a hermit. "If there's no close connection to anyone but yourself, there's a deficiency in you. I lived half a life before I realized it was more than a do-it-yourself job."

This article is excerpted from the book, CELEBRATING TIME
ALONE: Stories of Splendid Solitude, by Lionel Fisher,  Beyond Words Publishing, ©2001.


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ABOUT THE AUTHOR Lionel Fisher is the author of Celebrating Time Alone: Stories of Splendid Solitude (Beyond Words Publishing, Spring 2001), which records the emotional and spiritual triumphs of men and women who have found amazing grace alone.  At a time when more of us than ever are living alone, an estimated 40 million Americans at the turn of the century, we continue to seek our happiness and fulfillment, our answers, our very identity in others, points out the author. In the fall of 1996, he embarked on a cross-country journey in search of what he calls the new hermits: modern solitaires who have stretched their aloneness to Waldenesque proportions, achieving great emotional clarity in the process. He also spoke with their urban counterparts who, through necessity or choice, prefer to savor their individuality in smaller servings. In his book, Fisher interweaves their real-life stories with his own insights and experiences to offer counsel, inspiration and affirmation on living well alone.  Celebrating Time Alone affirms that its all right to be alone, to want to be alone, even to be lonely at times because the rewards of solitude can make the deprivations so worthwhile. Fisher, who also writes a column on the art of being alone, invites you to share your thoughts and feelings on magnificent aloneness. Reach him at beachauthor@hotmail.com.