We get desensitized with so many stimuli. Day-in, day-out we are flooded with information on what to look at, listen to, smell, eat, buy, think, choose, say, create, pursue, change – etcetera. We are bombarded even if we are half-listening, half-watching, half-awake. In fact, we are almost always half-awake – because we never really fully sleep anymore. We never fully disconnect anymore. We are always on, always open.
We’re always on the go, that eventually what we do becomes automatic. Until we fail to take a closer look at who we are becoming. Until we stop asking why we’re doing what we’re doing. Until one day we feel a strange pang, or we feel numb, apathetic, purposeless – which are just other manifestations of the same pain.
Choosing to go on another path alone becomes inevitable. Allowing ourselves to be drawn by the forest, into our own cave becomes imperative not just to regroup, but to survive another day.
Solitude can be hostile. Solitude will force us to confront our deepest hunger, wound, and longings. Solitude can cut us from our comforts, can trash our false trophies to the ground, can wreak havoc to the petty foundations we’ve built our whole lives onto.
Solitude can annihilate what we know to be true. Solitude can annihilate us.
On the other hand, Solitude will enable us to heal our senses, including our mind. Depriving ourselves of the overwhelming stimuli we’re so used to allows us to replenish ourselves and get to know our senses again.
It gives us a chance to restart our point of view and see the world in a new light – or to create a new world out of our fresh perspective.
This kind of deprivation makes our senses sharper. Colors become more vivid, subtle sounds are clearer, energies are more vibrant. Food tastes better, music makes us more emotional, personal touch becomes more powerful. We see how things are interconnected again. We find our place in the dance again. We have more clarity, more understanding, more wisdom. We have guidance from beyond our usual resources.
When we’ve been through this kind of deprivation, we get better at identifying what is ours. Are the thoughts we have ours? Is this way of seeing a situation ours? Are we feeling our own feelings?
We also get better at identifying what we truly need and desire, since we are no longer going through life half-experiencing it.
We know what we want because we know who we are and how we want to feel.
Solitude can be a cruel choice. But if it’s a choice made out of awareness, if it’s a choice that we embrace it might just offer us the overhaul that we need, the transformation our soul is aching for.