LIVING in these modern times, many of us find that we are connected and interconnected with each other in diverse ways.
We connect via the Internet through Facebook, Myspace and a massive array of other social networking sites and platforms.
We communicate incessantly through email and other forms of instant communication and we call or SMS each other at any time of the day or night, expecting almost immediate responses.
If you want to be alone in our world, you will probably find it increasingly difficult. Furthermore, if perchance you are not on Facebook or do not possess a mobile phone, then more often than not you will be asked why not? What’s wrong? At times the implication of these queries is that being “disconnected” indicates somehow some sort of possible problem.
In her informative and interesting book How to Be Alone, Sara Maitland discusses the virtues and benefits of sometimes being alone and having on occasion some solitude in our lives. Early on in her book, she draws our attention to another book by Philip Koch titled Solitude: A Philosophical Encounter where he simplifies and clarifies the usual criticisms made by critics of solitude.
The criticisms boil down to three general arguments: living in solitude is unnatural, it is pathological and it is or can be possibly dangerous.
When reflecting on these criticisms, I was reminded of a passage from Thomas Merton’s book Thoughts in Solitude: “So the man who wanders into the desert to be himself must take care that he does not go mad and become the servant of the one who dwells there in a sterile paradise of emptiness and rage.”
At times, some of the responses of people to those who seek solitude, who do not want to always be connected or simply refuse to be always available 24/7 is that somehow there is something odd or possibly awry in those who seek such disconnection.
While I take seriously Merton’s observation in regards to those who wander in the metaphorical desert alone with only their anger, bitterness and rage to console and accompany them, I am, nonetheless, far from convinced that our need at times to be alone is always necessarily some kind of bad sign. In fact, my sense is precisely the opposite.
Maitland observes “being alone can be beneficial and is certainly not detrimental to well-being, provided the individuals have freely chosen it.”
She adds: “How have we arrived, in the relatively prosperous developed world, at least, at a cultural moment which values autonomy, personal freedom, fulfilment and human rights, and above all individualism, more highly than they have ever been valued before in human history, but at the same time these autonomous, free, self-fulfilling individuals are terrified of being alone with themselves?”
Our capacity to be alone, to separate ourselves for a while from the hustle and bustle of the world, to disconnect from the incessant chatter and clanging demands of modern communications technology seem to be something that can help nourish our souls, not diminish us.
What is it that we fear in solitude? Why do some others fear our capacity to exercise solitude and separateness?
Maitland writes: “We fret if we do not have 24/7 social connection with others; we go to bizarre lengths to acquire partners (even though we then get rid of them with increasing frequency). I have already said that I believe that fear is at the root of many people’s deep unease about, or even terror of, being alone.”
Maitland points out to us that despite all the promises that a totally connected society offers, we are becoming increasingly aware that something is not quite right. We are losing something deep about ourselves along the way with all our clamour, connectedness and “communication”.
Perhaps by being able to understand and appreciate some of the positive aspects that come from freely exercising a capacity to have some solitude, some time to reflect, we can begin to set things right again.
What then are some of the benefits for us if we are able to exercise at times a right to solitude? What possible benefits can come from being able to choose to have alone time? Maitland points out five possible advantages:
1. A deeper consciousness of oneself.
2. A deeper attunement to nature.
3. A deeper relationship with the transcendent (the numinous, the divine, the spiritual).
4. Increased creativity.
5. An increased sense of freedom.
What freedom do we truly have when we are too scared to enjoy solitude? What possible creativity results when we have no time to think or reflect? How are we to truly know ourselves when we cannot even find time to be alone with ourselves?
Can we enjoy nature when we do not even have time by ourselves to smell the roses?
Ultimately how can we attend to that which is most central: our souls and our hearts without a little solitude and time to be at peace with oneself?