Solitude - Aug 24 2026

 

Solitude

Aug 24 2026

I’ve learned to enjoy my solitude.

Even the sound of the word.

Mouth it quietly

and see for yourself. 

There’s solitude

with its echo of solace.

The evocative sol, as in soulful,

or the cozy warmth

of a steady sun.

And then the long exhalation of tude …;

a final downbeat

that lingers there

in its still silent space.

To solo,

your first flight at the controls

testing your mastery.

Or, like an ancient prophet

heading off into the wilderness,

where you will live simply

and be alone with your thoughts.

Solitude is self-contained.

The only one you can’t escape

is yourself.

Sometimes, in the silence, you hear a voice

and think of calling out.

But it’s been so long since you spoke

your own startles you

with its dry gravelly croak

and awkward locution. 

So you hunker down and bite your tongue,

your bubble of solitude

mercifully untouched.

There is a lot being written these days about the “loneliness epidemic”. I’m told there are even “loneliness influencers” on social media, attracting socially isolated people who find validation in their example. But in all cases, great effort is made to distinguish being alone — the physical fact — and feeling lonely — the distressing emotional state.

I think solitude is a privileged state of aloneness. It’s intentional. It’s precious. It’s often hard to find in this busy, crowded, and time-stressed world. It requires you to be comfortable in your own skin, able to be alone with your thoughts, and have enough inner serenity that you can do without all the clamour and  distraction of modern life. It’s a time for deep introspection, retrospection, and perspective seeking. 

On the other hand, because when you’re alone you get to be selfish and feel in control, it can become the lazy path of least resistance:  no need to adjust, make room, or compromise. 

I spend a great deal of time alone. Probably too much. But I’ve always been a loner (can one be born that way?), so I don’t find it a source of distress. I enjoy my solitude. (Although without my dogs, perhaps it would soon come to feel oppressive. So does the presence of non-humans violate my claim to solitude?!) ) And as the poem says, even mouthing the word seems to bring with it a consoling sense of peace.