Alone

Dear Reader, 

I’ve been stuck on this issue for months now. My sophomore slump. I knew the topic would be “Alone” before I even finished my last issue. Being that it came to me so easily, I thought it would be a breeze. It’s turned out to be anything but. The more I thought about it, the more I wanted to say. The more I researched it, the more things I found needing further research. I ran around like a dog chasing its tail, never quite finding my way out of the endless, fruitless cycle. Why do I put the pressure on myself to dive into every aspect of what it means to be alone? Why do I assume what I have to say carries such weight that I must put out perfection or nothing? Well - I’m not quite sure. But part of the practice of this newsletter is forcing myself, through a self imposed deadline, to break the cycle and finish something. Whether it’s what I deem to be perfect or not. This is my practice in pushing aside my inner critics and instead valuing consistency and follow through. I’ve already allowed myself the grace of revisiting this topic again in the future. Space to circle back on whatever I missed. Until then, I hope you enjoy “Alone” . 

xoxoxo, 

glo

What do the poets have to say? 

Gathered Notes on Solitude

I came across theologian Henri Nouwen through the writer Bell Hooks. Nouwen spoke of being alone as the time in which we can fully come eye to eye with ourselves. The time we can shed our performance of selfhood. Only through this personal intimacy can we know ourselves well enough to begin “moving from solitude into community” in a way that “heightens our capacity for fellowship with one another. Through [this] fellowship we learn how to serve one another” (Bell Hooks, All About Love). That's the magic of it. The more time we spend with ourselves, the better member of a community we become. But how? Depending on who you ask - the answer will vary. They may say prayer, meditation, journaling, or yoga is the absolute and only way. The only tool against our calloused selfishness is downward dog. True liberation from these earthly anxieties is found 30 minutes before you want to wake up or 30 minutes after a second beer. It's in the sacred morning. It's in the word of God. All I know is, the faster I run away from myself - the more upset I am to find out that everyone else is right. Whether through God or moleskin - I need all the things that solitude can offer. 

So now, who better to turn to other than the man of “Solitude” himself - Mr. Henry David Thoreau. Thoreau famously sequestered himself to a cabin in Walden Woods where he went on to write Walden, which chronicles his time spent there, largely alone, in 1845-1847. He opens the section entitled “Solitude” with serene descriptions of the woods surrounding his cabin. He feels so filled by his surroundings, that it mimics the feeling of companionship. Though he is living on his own, outside of normal society, how can he feel alone when “every little pine needle expanded and swelled with sympathy and befriended” him? 

In the following excerpt, Thoreau summarizes for us where he stands on solitude: 

“Why should I feel lonely? Is not our planet in the Milky Way? This which you put seems to me not to be the most important question. What sort of space is that which separates a man from his fellows and makes him solitary? I have found that no exertion of the legs can bring two minds much nearer to one another…Society is commonly too cheap. We meet at very short intervals, not having had time to acquire any new value for each other.”

Does this feel a bit harsh? Yeah!

Would the aforementioned theologian agree to these sentiments? Probably. 

But do I see some truth in it too? Yes. 

There have been many occasions: dinner parties, nights out, coffee dates, and so on, that I feel as though I have nothing to say. Nothing! And I sit there, wracking my brain, trying to think of something, anything! Anything I can bring to the table to discuss. And I come up short. And then I think - how is that even possible! I'm a thoughtful, curious Gemini sitting with a dear friend, and yet after 30 minutes, I'm all dried up. Now, I think I'll hear Thoreau in my ear. Because perhaps these moments mean I've used up all the commentary I gathered from other people: watching their videos, reading their articles, hearing their podcasts, etc. But I haven't taken the time to sit with any of it, to understand what I think and how I feel. I have nothing to say perhaps because I haven't taken off the “performer self” in weeks. I haven't sat with my own thoughts, so I don't even know what they are. I imagine Thoreau would prescribe a week in the nearest, though most isolated, cabin. WiFi prohibited. Gazing into a glossy pond encouraged. 

The final stop in my search for enlightenment brought me to one of Thoreau’s fellow transcendentalists: Ralph Waldo Emerson. Specifically, his article “Solitude and Society” which was published in The Atlantic in December of 1857. Fun fact, did you know Emerson started The Atlantic?! The article begins with Emerson reflecting on a time in which he was talking to a friend at a large party. The type of friend that is both brilliant and lovely, and also painfully awkward at such an occasion. "God may forgive sins," he said, "but awkwardness has no forgiveness in heaven or earth." True melodrama. But it can feel this way! Being in a room with lots of charming, chatting people while you have nothing to say (but feel immense pressure to say something) is one version of hell on earth. Especially for one who craves community but cannot seem to find it. Out of place in society and overwhelmed by awkwardness. Emerson goes on to say how common it is to feel this, and the benefit such feelings, and those who feel best when in solitude, can have on society. He proposes genius is granted only through consistent solitude. That this practice is needed in order to bring anything substantive to the table. I, for one, have avoided writing this newsletter successfully through social engagement. Damned to socialize, destined for genius. 

All to say, certain work - often impactful work, whether internal or external, begs to be done alone. Collaboration has its place, but as Nouwen, Thoreau, and now Emerson have expressed, we best collaborate once we have sat with ourselves in solitude. I use a busy schedule to hide from myself. Not intentionally. And I am overwhelmingly lucky to have a beautiful community of people to fill my schedule with.  But for too long I've felt absent from the room. And I know now I can best remedy this disconnect through meaningful solitude. To hear my thoughts, feel my feelings, create my art, to be present and opinionated - I need my respite.

Nouwen, Thoreau, and Emerson probably would have enjoyed long chats about this topic. And in sharing their revelations found in isolation, they would each be proving their point. We must know alone. We grow most alone, but we aren't finished until what we find in that time is shared. Solitude and society go hand in hand. Each incomplete without the other. 

Works Cited: 

Bell Hooks - All About Love  

Henry David Thoreau - Walden - “Solitude” 

Ralph Waldo Emerson - The Atlantic  - “Solitude and Society”