A quiet meal can be quite sumptuous

In the quiet of aloneness, one hears the low hum of one’s own thoughts, the unsaid stories that rise from within. The silence of aloneness nourishes the soul.

In such quiet, one meets those who have gone yet not gone, who return without footsteps, whose voices speak without sound. They remind us that presence does not always need a body, and memory is a door that never fully closes.

A quiet meal can be quite sumptuous. The silence sharpens every sense. One gentle bite not only feeds the body, it gathers the scattered self into one place.

Once in a while, one should enjoy one’s own company.

When you enter a restaurant and see someone, especially a woman, sitting alone, the first reaction often is: “Must be a loner.” She does not need your pity. She is sitting alone because she wishes to be. When the waiter asks, “Is someone joining you?” a simple “No, I’m fine, thanks” is enough.

Temporary isolation can be deeply relaxing. As one therapist says, “We should all be able to spend time in our own company; it’s a concern only when we cannot.” Those who enjoy their own company are not prisoners of self-imposed exile. On weekends, many prefer not to be surrounded by people at all.

There is much one can do alone: watch a film (especially your kind of film), read for hours, listen to music, wander through thoughts.

No one likes being a loner, but many like being alone. Research suggests that sufficient alone time is essential for maintaining healthy relationships.

Loneliness itself comes in many shades. The loneliness of an ordinary person is not the loneliness of a Himalayan explorer; the loneliness of a child is not the loneliness of an old man.

Not every company is the right company. In the wrong company, one becomes lonelier; the right company evaporates loneliness, while the wrong one condenses its vapour. Lack of love from loved ones is one of the deepest sources of loneliness—self-love can fill only part of that gap.

Good food is good company. We love sharing meals with those we love most. Yet food connoisseurs say that eating alone is a fine way to relish one’s own company. When eating alone, there are no compromises, no divided attention. One can indulge in small luxuries—eating slowly, eating freely, eating without performing.

Of course, eating alone requires confidence. In a room where everyone is talking and laughing in pairs or groups, you are with yourself. It can unsettle you at first.

But like any solo pursuit, eating alone demands a delicate blend of comfort, commitment, enthusiasm, and a touch of self-adoration.