In her chapter on Solitude in "At Home In The World: A Rule Of Life For The Rest Of Us," Margaret Guenther distinguishes between healthy solitude and deadening isolation.
It seems the spiritual life requires some element of separation from others, a flight into the metaphorical desert, at least from time to time. We can resist being alone because it makes some of us squirm. We might also feel guilty for taking time "just for ourselves." Perhaps we feel pressured by our culture to spend every waking moment with others, chatting them up and socializing. Many would rather avoid any lengthy time alone.
Then there are the introverts who seem to thrive on solitude as a way to recharge their batteries. Whatever our temperament, we have something to learn from being alone at times.
Even when we are alone, however, the time may feel poorly spent. From my experience I can also distinguish between fruitful solitude and uncomfortable isolation. The difference is whether the way I spend my time alone makes the world seem smaller or bigger.
When I sit at the computer for much longer than I need, reading news articles and researching topics, looking for entertainment and window-shopping, then the world seems to get smaller. I seem to forget everything except what's on the screen, until the whole world seems to fit in a 14" rectangle.
The most liberating moment of my day usually occurs when I turn off the computer. If I pick up a book and start reading, then quickly the world begins to expand again. All of a sudden I am not in a box, but I'm in a room, in a house, in a city, connected to others, embedded in the flow of history, in the presence of God's all-embracing love.
I don't know exactly why turning off the computer and picking up a book makes such a difference for me. Perhaps I use the internet as a way of self-hypnosis to pass the time. Perhaps books feel more earthy and substantial, and thus bring me back to reality.
What makes your time alone feel either suffocating or liberating? And, why do we so often opt for suffocation?
