Solitude and the Space to Love

“Knowing how to be solitary is central to the art of loving. When we can be alone, we can be with others without using them as a means of escape.” ~ Bell Hooks

The image of a cold, winter scene with one silo feels pretty lonely. Solitude isn’t loneliness. Nurturing solitude is not a suggestion to be a silo; to cut yourself off from others. Nor is it a commitment to silo in like-groups. Solitude isn’t the same as independence either because we need each other to grow beyond ourselves.

Solitude can nurture deep and abiding love.

When I was a kid, my family downhill skied most weekends and we usually went away on a bigger ski trip in the spring with other families. I recall a couple who also used to join us on those trips. The man was a good friend of my dad’s and he had grown up in the Alps and had a true passion for skiing. The woman had a very gentle nature, a beautiful laugh, was a gifted artist and she didn’t have any inclination to ski herself. She would get up early and have breakfast with everyone, ride up the gondola to the chalet at the top of the mountain. She’d spend the day wearing cosy clothes by the fire where she’d sketch and read. No one else on those trips took days off or decided not to ski. Accomplished skier or newbie, ideal conditions or not, everyone skied. I recall some of the adults thought her choice made her selfish because her husband loved to ski. There were hushed conversations, “how could she…the poor guy…” What always stood out to me was that he would light up at lunch when he would see her. He was full of his own stories from the slopes and also full of interest and delight in what she’d been up to that morning while he was out skiing. She was the same. They would say ‘goodbye’ after lunch because they truly enjoyed and missed being in each other’s company. They also seemed content to be themselves.

How might acceptance of solitude with the self and for others create space and fertile ground for deep love between and amongst people?

Consider this passage written by Rilke:

“I hold this to be the highest task of a bond between two people: that each should stand guard over the solitude of the other. For, if it lies in the nature of indifference and of the crowd to recognize no solitude, then love and friendship are there for the purpose of continually providing the opportunity for solitude. And only those are the true sharings which rhythmically interrupt periods of deep isolation.”

Imagine giving yourself enough space to really know solitude. Think of solitude as time intentionally spent with yourself, hiding less behind busyness, distraction, addiction and increased sensation. Imagine knowing yourself intimately in a way that your compassion wells up so big that you cannot resist in extending this shelter of solitude to others. Imagine loved ones responding in-kind. How might your whole world be different? Interdependent? Interesting and diverse? If you start with yourself, wouldn’t it then be possible to be with others without using them to keep you busy, distracted, addicted and as a source of increased sensation?

Consider how powerful it is to begin within your own solitude; being in the moment as much as possible in your day and taking the opportunity to see what grips you. What feelings grip your body? What repetitive thoughts grip your mind? How might this solitary experience of space allow you to then give space to your child, your beloved, your friend so they can figure out what they like, ideas they hold true, passions they feel inclined to pursue.

Solitude is a place to begin: knowing yourself, loving yourself, being with yourself. Solitude is not a lonely silo. It is a place to gather the resources to gain entry into the art of truly loving another.