The Meaning of Life and Other Vegetables

Hello everyone.

I want to talk a little about Solitude, because it’s such a powerful concept, and it can immensely help so many lost souls – essentially, all of us.

I’ll start with two sayings/cliches:

“You can be lonely in a room full of people”
“You are never alone because you are always with yourself”

I’m not going to talk down on these sayings, because I mostly agree with them. The point is more that they’ve become fridge-magnet tokens, and not many of us invest the time and attention to really ponder their significance. It’s like something someone would utter in any sort of gathering, everyone around would nod in agreement, and then they’d move on to the next, easier, casual topic.

Lonely and alone are not the same thing. Alone is factual – there is no one else around. Lonely, on the other hand, is a mental state, and as the saying above suggests, it’s completely independent of the objective reality around (if there is an objective reality, I must disclaim). To me, the common characteristic of both is that they are a result (could be temporary or lasting); not a core state of self, a driver.

What is Solitude?

Solitude is the mental state in which one is self-sufficient and self-reliant. Where one is in tune, first and foremost, with oneself. Where one doesn’t need nor seek approval or validation from others. One may still interact with others wholeheartedly, listen, consider other views and advice; but there is no leaning or projection on others. Solitude doesn’t mean being solitary, or having no friends; these are two different aspects.

Solitude also doesn’t mean overconfidence or arrogance; on the contrary, real Solitude is humble and ever self-inquiring. When we have (or are in) Solitude, we own 100% of ourselves – including the ugly – and accept that it’s our right to have flaws, even big ones, just as it is to have extraordinary beauty and gifts. We don’t expect anyone else to meet our emotional needs – this is our sole responsibility. Similarly, we don’t feel responsible for anyone else’s emotional wellbeing – it’s not our job to carry anyone through life, as each of us must carry ourselves to the best of our ability. Most important, we realise that everything we see in others (better or worse) is most likely a projection of something in ourselves, conscious or not.

Don’t get me wrong – finding (or achieving) Solitude is not easy. But it’s the greatest gift one can ever get. It can make one invincible, and at the same time lead to profound inner peace. It’s like resting in your power. Not power over others; inner power.

I first became conscious of the Solitude concept not long ago, when I finally read the classic One Hundred Years of Solitude, by Gabriel García Márquez. I highly recommend this book. I have to admit it was a rough start for me, and until about 50 pages in I wasn’t sure I was going to pull through the book; it is a little unusual.

The character in One Hundred Years of Solitude who most explicitly develops and displays solitude is Colonel Aureliano Buendia. He is the literary “textbook” character of Solitude… But other characters in the book, like Amaranta, and even the timeless Ursula, model Solitude and help build an understanding of its significance.

But that’s just half the story for me. That was solitude in the literary sense. I took it in, I related to the characters, I thought I understood it, and then I moved on… My deeper learning about Solitude began while reading Dr. James Hollis‘s Finding Meaning in the Second Half of Life, which I find an extremely enlightening and helpful book. It’s not your typical self-help, pseudo-philosophical bestseller, as you might speculate based on the title… It is a piercing calling to self-accountability, and encouragement to take the difficult path of growing up and REALLY taking a good, honest and compassionate look at yourself, then starting to own your life, your beliefs and values, and your relationships of all kinds.

I won’t try to encompass Hollis’s teachings about Solitude (or anything else) in this post, or in this blog in general, because they are too rich and deep, and it’s actually not necessary; he does a great job in his books, which I warmly recommend (not always an easy read, but nevertheless highly recommended). I might, however, touch on some aspects here and there, and I might even dedicate a post once in a while, if I’d feel I’m up for the task. I am no psychologist or philosopher, just an average person with a curious mind.

Peace to all.