Earlier last year, I made it a goal for myself to spend more time alone and enjoy doing so. I find that it’s easy for me to get caught up in the persistent hum of life and accidentally leave myself behind. As a result, I end up feeling more disconnected from myself and, ultimately, those around me. So I decided to do something about it.
One of my favourite ways to practice solitude has been taking long walks. No music, no podcast, no friends — just my footsteps and inner monologue to keep me company.
At first, it was uncomfortable to be enveloped in silence. I felt the urge to fill it with meaningless noise, but what I really wanted to do was make my own voice quieter. I had grown so distant from myself that I was afraid of the stranger I had become.
But I kept walking and I kept thinking, and slowly, the stranger I grew into became my dear friend. It was these walks throughout the woods that taught me the importance of slowing down, appreciating the quiet, and connecting with myself.
In my time alone, I also learned the value of taking a break from the constant consumption of new information. It’s undeniably overwhelming to have the entire world in our back pockets. So when I’m spending time alone — true time alone — I leave my phone behind, too.
In doing so, I learned to become more aware and appreciative of my immediate surroundings. The chemical cocktail our phones provide us can make us numb to the beauty and joy that exists all around us. I started to see everything with much more clarity, admiring the tenderness of my environment a little more and worrying a whole lot less.
One of the biggest things I learned to appreciate in solitude has been the absence of someone to perform for. In freedom from another’s gaze, I actually started to figure out who I was and who I wanted to become.
Under the constant perception of others, it can feel challenging to see yourself clearly. There’s this pressure to prove who you are without even really knowing it yourself. I found that when I took a break from constantly presenting my best self, I was able to figure out how to be my best self, and then it all got a little easier.
Solitude has taught me patience with both myself and others. It has taught me that there’s no need to rush through life. There’s no need to constantly chase happiness when there’s peace waiting for you inside yourself.
Today, though I am nowhere near a master at solitude, I am aware of its importance. I’ve come to realize that the only person who is with you your entire life is you. And if you’re going to spend the rest of your life with yourself, you better be able to enjoy it.