Spirit

I am a solitude junkie. I crave silence like a pig craves mud. I need it. I wallow in it. I thrive in it. Solitude makes me squeal with delight. Other than fudge pops, solitude is my favorite 'comfort food.' Solitude has been my most consistent friend and only unconditional lover. I rest easy in the hands of solitude. It's like a warm blanket waiting at the foot of my bed, always prepared to soothe my spirit and warm those empty spaces in my heart. Solitude also helps me define myself. Without solitude I am thick- tongued and off - center - prone to periods of desperation and self - doubt. Solitude is the only way I can flesh out who I am, how I feel, and what I value. It's the way to my core; without it, I am a lost, bumbling idiot. For a long time I thought there must be something wrong with me. "Why is this 'alone time' so necessary?" I wondered. My friends marveled at the hours I could spend alone with my books, perfectly content under some shade tree or at some coffeehouse, reading and scribbling as if on a mission to crack some cryptic code or to decipher some unknown language. For whatever reason, solitude has always been salve for my burning soul.

After years of watching my retreat into daily rituals of solitude a close friend, with mounting curiosity, finally asked, "Mary, why do you like to be alone so much?" Without hesitation I blurted back, "Because being alone helps me be a better person!" I was shocked at my own response. I had never consciously formulated that thought before. It was as if it had come from an unknown source - from someone or someplace else. But it didn't. It passed through my own lips. She asked and I answered. Yet the response felt alien to me.

I twisted in my sheets that night wondering if little green men had set up camp inside my head or if I was somehow more aware than I was aware. Maybe my core knew something that I didn't. Maybe my subconscious was keeping secrets from my conscious again, as it will often do. Without any formal evidence of current psychotic symptoms, I chose the latter explanation. The strange voice that responded to my friend's question was my voice - my inner voice - and that voice was right. Being alone does help me be a better person emotionally, intellectually, and socially. After periods of solitude I'm more articulate and easy - going. My brain functions more efficiently and my interest in others is more genuine. I'm less guarded and more self - assured, more reasonable and less reactionary. In short, I feel more content with myself and with others after daily doses of 'down time.'

What I do during these regular sabbaticals is of little importance - anything from reading a biography to potting hyacinths from my mother's garden works as long as I do it alone and in the bastion of silence. Writing is the best form of solitude for me. When I'm not able to write in silence every morning after my three - mile jog I have to do a little creative time management. Sometimes I'll deliberately arrive at an appointment fifteen or twenty minutes early so I can sit in the secrecy of my car and write. I don't have to stress about being late because I'm already at my destination. It is, in essence, 'found time.' Sometimes it takes a little tweaking to make solitude happen on a daily basis but the time is always available if we're resourceful and committed to the benefits of silence.

Some of the greatest thinkers and leaders in history understood the importance of solitude - Jesus, Buddha, and Thoreau, to name a few - they all relied on periods of intense solitude and contemplation to seek enlightenment. Jesus spent forty days in the wilderness in reflection and prayer; Buddha spent hours on the banks of the Nairanjana River contemplating the human condition; and Thoreau retreated to Walden Pond for two years so he might "learn what it had to teach." However, we don't have to be spiritual gurus or literary masters to practice and inherit the benefits of solitude. If solitude worked for them, it can work for us all.

We don't know exactly why solitude helps us process information and feelings more effectively. But current research does show that we learn better after periods of intense study by letting information gestate during solitude or sleep, and that we maintain contact with our entire inner world of feelings more effectively when we give ourselves the necessary time to do so. If spending time alone makes us more clear - headed, more creatively and intellectually honed, and more emotionally aware, then carving out a little extra time in our schedules seems like a small price to pay for such a mighty return. Time spent in solitude is always time well spent.