Solitude
I am starting the draft of this newsletter in July of 2025. (No idea if/when it will be published.. I am on what has become my annual summer trip to Boulder, Colorado, for an extended stay. When this started four years ago, the purpose of the trip was to (A) spend time with my spiritual teacher, (B) ride my bike in the mountains (C) work on learning to cook. (It has been explained to me that I do not “cook”, but I “heat things”..
But there is another feature of these trips, of great value, that I have come to appreciate. When here I am mostly alone. My wife of 49 years is not interested in joining me for A, B, or watching me do C. I’ve always traveled a lot for my work, and for me to be gone several weeks at a time is nothing unusual or difficult for her to manage. (Some have said, only slightly in jest, that it is easier for her when I am not around!) Nevertheless, when I am here, I have minimal contact with other humans. I have no TV and a few other similar distractions. I am alone with myself. I have solitude.
And it is uncomfortable.
Although I am naturally an introvert and need time by myself, I am still a human being, and humans are social beings. Being here deprives me of enough social interaction that I notice it. It is uncomfortable. For most of the day, the only thing I have to keep me company is my thoughts. I have little to distract me from them. And it seems I do wish to be distracted from them. They tend to be messy. (While here, I also try not to “work”. Work seems to be a way to focus my attention, my thoughts, and without something of that nature to focus on, this mind is not an especially fun companion!)
All that said, I need to remember that I am not my thoughts. Thoughts appear in the mind, but they are not me unless I allow myself to identify with them, which is VERY easy to do. Indeed, judging by my interactions with virtually everyone, it is something all of us do all the time. Not identifying with the noise is easier said than done, especially if you don’t realize that you are not those thoughts and are simply being reactive to everything that appears. Because solitude is uncomfortable, most of us go to great lengths to avoid it. We distract ourselves with TV, alcohol, endless internet surfing, and even “work” to provide us with relief. (There are too many weekends when I am in the office working more as a distraction than out of some pressing need or deadline.)
Being alone and experiencing solitude intentionally gives you a chance to start making the needed distinctions and differentiations. And, there is a payoff. Being or feeling alone can happen in career change, retirement, relocation, divorce, illness, grief, and even with success. Many successful business people feel alone. The saying I’ve heard is that it is “lonely at the top.” So it really can’t be avoided. And my annual experiments with solitude are making a difference. I am noticeably more comfortable with being alone and “doing nothing” than I was when this started four years ago.
But when you are “doing nothing”, exactly what does that look like? Because even if you are doing nothing other than just sitting, that is still something that you are doing. The thing is, you can sit and be still, or you can sit and fidget. You can sit and allow your mind to quiet down, or you can allow it to drive you crazy. Therefore, it is how you approach the non-doing and the solitude that influences how you experience it.
I took the photo that accompanies this article while at a mountain stream outside Boulder, where I went to sit and do nothing. (And the water was cold!) It has me in the middle of nature, both in the mountains and near the water. The noise of the stream is hardly quiet, but it largely fades out of awareness after a while. At home in warmer months, I have discovered that sitting on our front porch is very enriching. Even if my wife is on the other side of the wall, less than 10 feet away, I have solitude. I watch the birds fly to our feeders. I watch the clouds move. I often use the porch as a place to meditate. I have a good friend who likes to sit on a chair at the end of his dock. He is also engaging in solitude. Earlier this year, I went sailing in the BVIs. In the morning, before the boat would come alive with activity, a number of us would go find somewhere to sit and quietly read or just sit. Not sitting together, separately. We were practicing solitude. A ritual on the boat is that at dinner, everyone shares what they consider to be the best part of their day. “Sitting quietly watching the sunrise” was a surprisingly frequent answer. We were being nurtured in solitude. All of these examples are things I suspect many of you can also relate to. The difference I experience in Boulder is that the solitude is for more extended periods.
I wish I could say I’ve mastered solitude. I haven’t. But I’m learning not to run from it. I’m learning to sit, even when it’s uncomfortable. And maybe that’s enough.
So here’s my question: when was the last time you truly allowed yourself to be alone—not lonely, not distracted, but alone? I’m not suggesting weeks in the mountains. I’m suggesting ten minutes with no agenda, no phone, and no plan. Try it. Notice how it feels. That discomfort you feel? That’s a doorway to Waking Up
If you found this issue helpful and want to hear more from Greg, be sure to subscribe to his podcast, Pants Around Ankles Prevention, where each episode delivers a punch of truth to help you wake up, gain perspective, and live with greater clarity and purpose. Listen and subscribe now on Apple Podcasts or YouTube.
This issue was originally published by Greg Hayne on Substack.