Every Friday my brother has what he calls a “Sommaa day”. Depending on his mood this usually involves him sitting on his bed watching shows, playing Nintendo switch, or – if he’s especially motivated— cleaning his room. Nobody is allowed to bug him on this day and any plans that might involve him are cancelled by default. Now, that in itself is not particularly noteworthy, but in a hypersocial society such as Egypt, his choice of aloneness sticks out like a sore thumb.

In the past couple of years many of us have become intimately acquainted with what it means to be “alone”. Whether we wanted it or not the pandemic— and forced quarantines— have left us much more isolated than we had ever previously been. People who had never before encountered the adjective “lonely” were left to fend for themselves. Now I’m not gonna wax poetic about how creative and fulfilling alone time is, because for many of us it goes without saying, I would however like to dive deeper into this topic of solitariness and what it means for us as a species.

We’ve all heard that quote that goes “we are all born alone and we will die alone” (or something to that end), but many of us have yet to encounter what it truly means. Being alone is defined as a state with no one else present, but it goes much deeper than that. Being alone is also a choice. You know that lovely English term “lone wolf”, that’s what I think of when I think of the idea of being alone. To me it manages to capture two essential aspects of being aloneness 1) our existence as a pack or social species and 2) our desire to disengage from said pack (at times). Now I don’t know you or what your take on being alone is, but I would like to differentiate it from being lonely. Alone is solitude, lonely is unhappiness.

In Reaching Out, Henri Nouwen writes:

“No friend or love, no husband or wife, no community or commune will be able to put to rest our deepest cravings for unity and wholeness…Instead of running away from our loneliness and trying to forget or deny it, we have to protect and turn it into fruitful solitude… Loneliness is painful; solitude is peaceful. Loneliness makes us cling to others in desperation; solitude allows us to respect others”

I love the term “fruitful solitude” that he uses. The idea of turning our loneliness around and making it into something productive, completely mesmerizes me. For many of us being alone means turning on a screen and watching a show or reading a good book. While that’s all well and good, I wonder if that’s what Nouwen means by fruitful solitude. Is solitude a step up from “alone”?

I know a girl who – at uni— wouldn’t walk to her classes alone. Whatever her errand was, she would have to find someone to accompany her from one building to the next. This for me is the ultimate parable of social living and the best example of our need for solitude. There is something that happens inside us when we are alone that is hard to describe. Something pivotal. And I find that it is hard to exist as a human and honour the freedom and individuality of other humans if your have never experienced this.

A couple of years ago I lived in New York. I was pursuing an MFA in Creative Writing and living the student life. But unlike what you might imagine when you hear “student life”, it was actually the loneliest period of my life. I spent hours and hours with myself, whether running errands, studying or doing the dishes. Podcasts were always on, just so I could have some background noise and my phone was my closest companion. When you are alone for significant periods of time, something inside you gets altered. It’s like everything that previously went through a societal “is this appropriate for conversation” filter is now up for grabs. All your thoughts become laid out for you to pick and choose from. All of the facets of yourself you didn’t know existed begin to show themselves. You begin to see what is choice and what is programming. Am I really the type of girl who doesn’t put the dishes away after she’s done eating? Did I really just spend 3+ hrs mopping the floor and cleaning it with salt? Did I really just buy a 3^rd matcha today? It is those moments when we are alone that we really begin to meet ourselves as individuals. All of the layers we’ve been carrying shed and we’re left trying to figure out if we like what we see in the mirror. For me, personally, it took a lot of self-care and intense meditation to begin to see past the version of myself I had created to please others. I would cry and then through the tears start to wonder where these feelings were coming from. At the time it felt nothing like solitude. In hindsight, I cherish those moments more than many of my “happy” ones. I once read somewhere that at the bottom of all loneliness there is grief. And— after spending a significant amount of time alone, I can second that. Usually, our loneliness covers other essential emotions that we have not processed. In my case, and in many cases, it is grief.

But what does that mean about our sociability? Is “alone” our primary mode of expression?

I’ve been thinking about this question a lot and I haven’t come up with a very good answer. Many people will argue that man is actually a social animal and that he is not meant to spend long periods of time alone. I mostly agree, but also have also found that aloneness is centering. There is a peace in aloneness that cannot be replicated by surrounding yourself with any number of people. Aloneness is when we get closer to our Truth. Aloneness is when we connect to Source. And if we believe the whole “we are born alone and we die alone” thing, then yes “alone” is actually our primary mode of expression.

Fun fact, there was actually a study conducted on groups of artists that found that single artists are more artistic than artists in a relationship. The study— conducted by the Journal of Family Issues— found that the longer the artist’s romantic relationship the less they experienced artistic creativity. This goes against much of what we have learned about passion fueling art but seems to ascertain my earlier hypothesis that something happens to the brain when we are alone. Something pivotal that allows you to go in and produces “more” from you (that’s not to say that those artists were necessarily happier human beings).

Being alone allows us to experience ourselves uncovered and really get to know things about what makes us tick, what makes us happy and what brings us pleasure. In an age where we are so digitally connected, it is important to look into the benefits of solitude for our wellbeing. If you never have, I would highly recommend implementing some solitude into your day-day routine. Whether it’s 15 min of meditation or taking yourself out to a movie, try and experience what you are like without all of the filters on. I guarantee you will like what you see (or if you don’t, I guarantee you’ll find something to work on).

Lovingly yours,

Girl With One Earring