When I was young I loved football (soccer). Football matches were the highlight of my week. I also quite enjoyed training in preparation for these matches. Apart from the team’s regular Wednesday night training sessions, I often went to the local park and kicked a ball around on my own. I would kick it with spin against a wall and see what angle it rebounded at. I would juggle the ball and try various tricks. Of course the only reason I enjoyed training was because of the promise of the next game. Had there been no game on the horizon then I wouldn’t have bothered training.
That is how I now feel about time spent alone. When I’m with others we do things or talk about books, sport, pop music, movies and politics and I enjoy myself. When I get home I have something to eat and then read or watch something related to what we have been discussing. I can do this quite happily for long periods but I notice these periods are now beginning to drag on me. If I spend a couple of days alone the desire to read, learn, watch, rehearse my arguments or do anything more than eating and sleeping deserts me. I then feel like I am trapped in a never-ending training session.
Actions, unless intrinsically enjoyable in themselves, need to have a purpose and people need the company of others to enable them to give all their training meaning. The balance between training and playing has to be right, and mine isn’t.