Questions of Solitude
Many blog posts ago I mentioned that I would write about some of the people I have met on my Road to Compassion. I have been spending more time alone lately, so I will begin with a woman I met last summer (I will call her Tanya) who told me about how she had once spent February, March, and April alone at her homestead in northern BC. Her aloneness was measured by her 25km snowmobile ride from her homestead in the mountains to the closest neighbours. From there it was about a 15km drive into town. In those 3 months Tanya went to town three times. The rest of the time it was just her, the wildlife, the northern lights, and the mountains of northern BC.
Tanya's house was solar heated so she used mostly candle light once daylight faded (yes the daylight fades early in late winter in the mountains in northern BC, 3:30-4pm). Her isolation was therefore complimented or compounded by darkness and quiet.
Tanya told me that she had chosen to spend this much time alone to see if she could survive on her own in the wilderness. Also, she wanted to see how she would deal with the lack of social interaction, how she would like or react to extreme solitude.
Tanya survived and did not go crazy. She told me that she learned without a trace of doubt that she could survive just fine in extreme solitude for extended periods of time on her own, and she could rely on her skills and rational mind during challenging times. Also, through this experience, she realized that humans are social animals that need interaction with others, at least every so often, to remain well-balanced and healthy-minded. It also taught her to truly appreciate extreme quiet and gave her the opportunity to observe her surroundings without distraction. I was and remain duly impressed and inspired by her courage and fortitude.
A few familiar questions come to mind when I imagine spending that much time alone: How would I celebrate my solitude; How much time would I manage to spend doing the things I truly love to do alone; How much time would I spend distracting myself from loneliness (i.e. how much weight would I gain by looking to food for friendship); How willing would I be to enter into the loneliness with my full being; How much would I be able to meet my needs for companionship and community with Mother Nature and with the Infinite Mystery; How much time would I manage to spend just Being?
These are questions I try to explore as much as I can, even if my solitude is just a few minutes in a day (although I am inspired by the depth of Tanya's exploration). There are endless things to distract me away from solitude, especially in the city, so many that I can forget or even become afraid of solitude (the more I get distracted, the more I fear solitude; the more I enter into solitude, the more I love it). However, for many reasons, solitude is too vital a part of rich life to leave behind: Solitude helps me face myself and move through my fears and desires towards something beyond the ego without some solitude in my life; and solitude helps me keep a larger picture and mind and helps me remember what is most important to me.
I am
currently house-sitting a wonderful home on my own while I take a couple of
months to focus on my well being and fitness. The house is for sale so it is virtually empty and has no phone, internet, or cable. This allows me more opportunity than usual to explore these questions of solitude. And sometimes I just want someone or something else to answer the questions for me.
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