Hope comes not from words;
it’s in our walks, and coffees,
and silences, dear.
-
The Promises of Solitude
I am not sure how qualified I am to write about solitude, because I’ve been surrounded by people almost all my life. Whether it be the presence of friends or family, I’ve never had a time where I was truly left on my own; I am quite convinced that I’ve never experienced real solitude in the first 18 years of my life. As a result, I feel like I’ve been unwittingly looking for it everywhere I go, looking for ways to fill the void that comes from not spending quality time with myself.
When I think of solitude, the image that usually comes to mind is that of a middle-aged person living all alone in an empty house in the middle of somewhere remote, away from all the din of the city. This would be someone everyone knew about but did not approach. Self-sufficient, this person always keeps society at arm’s length, guarding their treasured solitude, venturing out only once in a while to meet their loved ones or close friends.
This kind of solitude is something I’ve always wanted to explore. To be away from society and its insipid expectations and people with their gossip and overbearing opinions. Every time I feel like doing something adventurous, my social environment finds ways to discourage me, to bore holes into my head and fill it with anxiety and fear. And I don’t speak of random acquaintances or distant relatives, though they play a part in all of this too. I’m mostly talking about family and the friends I like to think of as close; it is their words usually hurt the most. I know it is still possible to go against the great flow of culture, tradition, and family, but I don’t want to have to do that all the time. I feel like we’re all going against the grain already, trying to combat generational cycles of trauma and toxicity. But I don’t want to have to fight to do what I like or be who I am. It gets tiring.
So, do I just give up? It’s not likely that my current social environment will change to accommodate me. But what I can do is maybe try and surround myself with like-minded people, as well as those who might care enough about my growth and happiness to support me and my endeavours. It is difficult to find such people, but it is not impossible. I suppose this step starts with some self-love, whether that looks like setting boundaries or taking some time to figure things out. This move out of our comfort zone allows us to eventually seek the spaces in which we might belong. I like to think it is only a matter of time after this before we find our people, but really, it is also a combination of luck, resources, and patience. So if you haven’t found your people or your spaces, don’t give up. I myself have only recently begun to think about these things, but I can tell you that even the journey, though difficult, has been interesting.
Seeking solitude in itself has been a step outside my comfort zone. I’ve always been reserved, but looking for spaces to accommodate the kind of solitude I am looking for has always been difficult. That’s why travel has always been so close to my heart. Travelling, whether it be a short walk or a long journey, allows one to enter new spaces; it is something that opens one up to the subtleties of life and allows the mind to wander as far as one can dream. The search for solitude often reveals the gift of travel, and travel in turn helps us find solitude in some of its spaces. When I say solitude, I don’t mean the debilitating kind of loneliness that most of us wish to escape. I mean that secure space that only you occupy, a room of your own so to speak, where you are allowed to rest or play or create as you like. It is in this safe space that most of us find our footing, where we learn to rely on ourselves, and more importantly, where we figure out a little bit about who we are as individuals.
Now, could anyone blame me for running away sometimes in search of solitude? I know that running away from problems or people isn’t always the best solution. But sometimes, we all just need a break to catch our breath, to restabilize, to find our balance. Solitude can offer a neutral, safe environment that feels familiar and even encouraging, if we choose to cultivate it this way. It is a place where I know won’t be attacked, a place that will not offer me unsolicited advice. It is a space that can give me room to rejuvenate, reflect, and eventually respond to my external world.
Though I’ve already said so much in favour of finding solitude, one of the best things solitude always promises me is the joy of being amongst the people you love after taking that much-needed break. I always feel gratitude and a renewed sense of kindness and love for those who accept me when I come back from my little pockets of solitude. I understand when some get a little angry or upset when I step away, but I cherish every time somebody decides to love and support me anyway. So really, there’s so much to gain from solitude, both while we’re enjoying it as well as afterwards.
I’ve spoken so much about solitude that all I can think about now is travel. I hope we all find our own spaces and people, and of course, the all-too-important thing that is solitude.