The streets of our minds seethe with endless traffic.
Howard Thurman
To be alone for any length of time is to shed an outer skin.
David Whyte
This post was inspired by women on foot getting coffee.
It is just after 6 am and I am standing on the back porch of our home, gazing up at a large maple. Birds are singing. The tree branches wave hello. I remain in place until the tempting aroma of coffee draws me inside. Comfortable in my favourite chair, cradling a cup of java, I gaze out the window, breathe in deeply, and hope my husband sleeps longer so I can savour the quiet. At this moment there is no where I need to be and nothing I need to do. I am content.
Moments of solitude are something to cherish. Much as I love time with family and friends, I have always needed time on my own, even more so with age. Solitude can be experienced at home, on a walking trail, or gazing out the window of a busy café watching people pass by.
My need for solitude is a longing felt deep in my bones. Its capacity to replenish mind, body, and soul prevents a slide into fatigue and crankiness. Solitude was hard to come by earlier in life, what with work, a busy family life, and the day-to-day stuff that had to get done. The bits and pieces I managed to find were precious. One of my coping strategies was to rise early in the morning before anyone else awoke to start on the to do list; usually I would sit and gaze out the window as the caffeine took blissful effect.
Despite the benefits of social connection, I don’t believe human beings- even the most extroverted of us- are meant to be in constant contact with the world. Many of us are, thanks to that little device called the cell phone. If you live in a busy city as I do, you can experience sound and fury at every turn: city sidewalks, cafes, on transit, in shops, and planned gatherings. Much of it is good- very good in fact, but a perpetual serving of social interactions and noisy surroundings can be exhausting.
I have had to learn to put a brake on demands on my time. Such demands may be completely reasonable and many of my own choosing, but they can easily expand. Part of it is FOMO (fear of missing out on fun stuff to do), but I find myself surprised- astonished actually- at how my calendar fills up with things I agreed to do, only later to feel out of sorts, longing for some white space in the week.
For some people, solitude is not always welcome or enjoyed. Too much of it can stare us down, leaving us at a loss for what to do. Unwanted thoughts begin to surface. After all, if you sit quietly for a time, the chatter in your head becomes a running tape of stuff to do, stuff undone, mistakes made, or longings difficult to fulfill.
Activity- better yet, being busy- is the antidote to keeping intrusive thoughts away. It may even garner admiration and praise from others if we are seen as being productive. It’s an annoying measure of worth that fails to consider the quality of our experiences and favours the number of them.
One can wax eloquently about the benefits of solitude but the reality is that those who love time alone usually have the privilege of deciding to engage in it. Solitude is welcome when it’s a choice. When it’s experienced on our own terms, in our own way. Sometimes that is not always possible.
However we feel about solitude, I believe there’s a case for time alone.
Solitude is a form of social nourishment that needs to be cultivated so our daydreams and moments of wonder are nurtured and can grow. By interrupting the automatic routine of our lives, solitude can be a form of rest to which we are all entitled, an incubator for inspiration, and an opportunity to reacquaint ourselves with who we are if we can shed that outer skin that shields us from bold, unsettling, or distracting thoughts.
If we can find the right balance of purposeful activity and solitude, while pruning joyless tasks, we may begin to see time alone in a different light. So much in our lives that lies dormant may emerge out of the depths and surprise us, taking us down a path that would not, could not happen through the course of a busy day. It can also give us a delightful moment of peace and quiet to savour and nothing more.
There’s something courageous and intriguing about living in a way that challenges the convention to be regularly doing something- anything. Experiencing solitude helps those bold ideas that we all hold deep inside see the light of day. Who knows where we may land? It’s a wild idea to contemplate.
Becoming of Age 