That, "Ooh, here it comes," moment.
Some kind folks replied to yesterday’s post about solitude versus loneliness by recounting their own struggles with isolation during this pandemic and inquiring as to how I deal with my own. It makes sense, since literally millions of us now have the time on our hands to explore ourselves, and why being alone is such a difficult thing.
When comedian Louis C.K., just prior to facing assault accusations, was interviewed by Conan O’Brien and talked about his need to constantly check his cellphone while alone, he gave an apt description of how loneliness can affect one’s state of mind. He termed it the “forever empty” and how it’s always present “down there,” deep inside of us. It sneaks up on you he says. “Sometimes when things clear away and you’re not watching … you start going, ‘Ooh, here it comes, that I’m alone, like it starts to visit on you, just this sadness.’ ”
The hectic pace of life in this modern era has ensured that all of us feel this at one time or another and occasionally feel great difficulty in being alone. And, so, we rush to fill the void, to take on some kind of distraction that takes our minds off our insecurities. But in so doing, we rob ourselves of discovering the riches of solitude.
It’s likely that we all know that the ability to deepen ourselves, to growing a more extensive inner life, is something that would be preferable to what we endure, but we find it a difficult thing to develop. Yet for those seeking a more fulsome understanding of themselves and their world, there are numerous channels for exploring one’s soul and emotions.
Many of the ethical leaders we admire were themselves creatures of solitude. We soon enter the month of Ramadan, where Muslims reflect on those days Mohammad took extended periods of solitude to engender his inner resources. We know Jesus did the same, as did Buddha and Confucius. But so did Gandhi, Abraham Lincoln, Canadians Marshall McLuhan and Robertson Davies and the late Gord Downie.
The process of retreating within in order to comprehend and grow comfortable with ourselves is greatly aided by things we likely already love. Let me speak personally. I play the piano everyday – not so much to learn new skills but to immerse my emotions into songs that were meaningful from my past and present. I have been aided in my pursuit by the likes of Canadian author Michael Harris, in his book In Pursuit of a Singular Life in a Crowded World. He has been a more recent discovery, but prior to exploring his thoughts, the works of Lebanese poet Kahlil Gibran, in works like The Prophet, and Czech writer Vaclav Havel’s The Art of the Impossible have sustained me for years. The Bible is in that mix, as are the speeches of Lincoln and the poetry of Wordsworth. And, of course, writing has helped me to gain perspective on this complex world.
You will have favourites of your own, and hobbies like woodworking, music, yoga and painting will continue to call to you to pull away from the world for a time and refresh who you are in your deepest self. The secret of being deepened in solitude is to actually take on such things consistently and not merely in those moments when we suddenly find ourselves with a few minutes free in this hectic life. We must make those moments, and then we must extend them.
These are disciplines, and like all important things they require time and endurance. Unfortunately, much of this “therapy age” is designed around keeping people socially busy. That’s important, but it leaves people with such vulnerabilities frequently ill-equipped when they are alone. We sometimes hang out with people like us and linger in our shared loneliness, without ever really meaning to. The late, and great, actor and comedian Robin Williams reflected on this very thing near the end of his life: “I used to think that the worst thing in life was to end up all alone. It's not. The worst thing in life is ending up with people who make you feel all alone.” We often push people away, or alienate those who seek to pull us out of our smaller world and seek to take us into something greater. It takes a lot of courage to go deeper into ourselves than it does to stay in the shallow end of the pool.
And now, thrust upon us all, are times where we must self-isolate because of something so small that only a microscope can spot it. This leaves us especially vulnerable and we chafe at the extended moments of isolation. But we do have a choice, even if we’re not always successful, of turning those moments, hours and days into an enriching solitude or a lifeless loneliness. It’s never easy, but in a season when being isolated is essential for our outward survival, it's time to discover that it is just as vital to our inner transformation.