On the value of seeking solitude

It seems lately as if our current at-home lifestyles have highlighted the 'extroverts' and 'introverts' among us --- those waiting by the door for any chance of socialization possible, versus others who are basking in the cocoon of homebody comforts.

But as much as we sometimes love to categorize others and ourselves as one extreme, extroverted or introverted, the vast majority of us fall somewhere on the spectrum in between. I absolutely rely on my interactions and relationships with others as a source of energy and connection, but anyone who knows me also knows that I need plenty of time alone for exactly the same reasons: to reenergize and reconnect.

I’ve long had the sense that it is only when I am by myself that I feel fully connected to my life. I also always thought this characteristic to be strange and isolating until – in the true beauty of reading – I read the words of someone else penning the exact same experience.

That someone was May Sarton, who writes in her journal: “That is what is strange – that friends, even passionate love, are not my real life unless there is time alone in which to explore and to discover what is happening or has happened. Without the interruptions, nourishing and maddening, this life would become arid. Yet I taste it fully only when I am alone.”

Eugene Delacroix wrote similarly: “The things we experience for ourselves when we are alone are much stronger and much fresher. However pleasant it may be to communicate one’s emotions to a friend there are too many fine shades of feeling to be explained, and although each probably perceives them, he does so in his own way and thus the impression is weakened for both.”

Though his take is a bit harsh (conveying experiences with each other is much more than “pleasant”), I find truth in it too. Without discounting the power of communicating our emotions – a necessary practice of connection and empathy --- it's true that it is impossible for another person to know the colours and nuances of your experiences in the same way as you. Solitude invites us to bask in those colours of being, which is why it can be so revitalizing when we fully engage with it.

But in our world of constant busyness and distraction, we rarely do. For a generation that exalts the individual person more than ever before, we are still raised in a society that doesn’t put much value on time spent completely alone. Sara Maitland put it perfectly when she wrote: “Being alone in our present society raises an important question about identity and well-being… How have we arrived, in the relatively prosperous developed world, at least, at a cultural comment which values autonomy, personal freedom, fulfillment and human rights, and above all individualism, more highly than they have ever been valued before in human history, but at the same time these autonomous, free, self-fulfilling individuals are terrified of being alone with themselves?... We are supposed now to seek our own fulfillment, to act on our feelings, to achieve authenticity and personal happiness – but mysteriously not to do it on our own.”

Don’t get me wrong, this is not a modern struggle. Four hundred years ago Blaise Pascal was writing about how “all of humanity’s problems stem from man’s inability to sit quietly in a room alone.” I just think that this inability stands out more starkly in modern times, as the growth of wealth and comfort has allowed more leisure time to spend alone in reflection. Now that survival often isn’t the only concern – at least not in the same way that it was in the days of feudalism – we have the luxury of time to sit with our thoughts.

And yet we often choose not to. How many times have I avoided moments of isolated silence, afraid of the angst they might bring?

When Russian filmmaker Andrei Tarkovsky was asked for advice to the young, he responded: “This desire to be together in order to not feel alone is an unfortunate symptom, in my opinion. Every person needs to learn from childhood how to spend time with oneself. That doesn’t mean he should be lonely, but that he shouldn’t grow bored with himself.” Tarkovsky's advice is not an easy feat, but turning loneliness into a rich and full aloneness is one of the most important and impactful things we can do.

After all, not only is solitude necessary for our own growth and understanding of self, it also helps us to connect more deeply with others. As the poet Wendell Berry beautifully wrote, it's in solitude that “one’s inner voices become audible. One feels the attraction of one’s most intimate sources. In consequence, one responds more clearly to other lives. The more coherent one becomes within oneself as a creature, the more fully one enters into the communion of all creatures.”

The writer Maria Popova echoes the same idea: “Curiously, and importantly, mastering the art of solitude doesn’t make us more antisocial but, to the contrary, better able to connect. Being intimate with our own inner life frees us to reach greater, more dimensional intimacy with others.”

In their own ways, all of these thinkers (and so many more) point us in the same direction: to embrace silence and to engage with stillness. The good news is that we have ample time to do so these days --- probably the only perk of lockdown living. It’s hard not to be sucked into the perpetual wheel of distraction and productivity that we're taught to run on, but it can feel liberating as hell to break the momentum of motion.

So here’s to trying.