We live in an age in which many of us are deeply affected by loneliness. Many elements of modern life separate us from other people, such as cars, the anonymity of many urban neighbourhoods and the custom of working remotely instead of in a shared workplace. Some aspects of modern technology enable us to connect with each other across great distances; yet that’s not the same as being in the same room with another person or groups of people.
The United Nations has stated that loneliness and isolation pose a greater threat to human health than smoking. Britain’s national government even has a Minister for Loneliness.
Loneliness is a significant issue among Canadian youth. Research indicates that young people, particularly those aged 15 to 24, experience loneliness more often than older age groups. Social media and a lack of real-world social connections are among the reasons given.
It’s hard to convey the ache and pain of loneliness, but Catholic priest Fr. Ron Rolheiser captures its essence in his book, The Loneliness Factor: “We do not feel loneliness. We are loneliness.”
Solitude is a very different experience from loneliness. Yes, it also involves the sense of feeling alone; however, unlike loneliness, solitude is a restorative state. It’s the kind of aloneness in which we feel accompanied by our thoughts, by stillness or by God’s presence.
“I never found the companion that was so companionable as solitude,” Henry David Thoreau wrote during his time immersed in nature at Walden Pond. While Thoreau emphasized the personal joy of solitude, farmer, poet and social critic Wendell Berry suggests that solitude reconnects us with the wider web of life. He suggests that in “the wild places, where one is without human obligation… one’s inner voices become audible. The more coherent one becomes within oneself as a creature, the more fully one enters into the communion of all creatures.”
Solitude is a vital element for a rich spiritual life. Jesus was not afraid to be alone. Scriptural references outline how he made time to be alone with God. He practiced the discipline of solitude daily throughout his life to commune with God, even as others clamored for his attention. For example, after healing many people while on a preaching tour in Galilee, he got up very early the next morning and went to a deserted place to pray (Mark 1:32-39). A more well-known example involves the 40 days Jesus spent in the desert to prepare for his public ministry, engaging in prayer, fasting and spiritual testing. The desert setting provided a space for solitude and reflection, allowing Jesus to deepen his relationship with God and prepare for the challenges ahead.
A physical setting where one is alone with God can help open our souls to the divine presence. I still reflect on the retreats I took decades ago at monasteries in Oka, Quebec and Gethsemane, Kentucky, and how those experiences of profound and holy silence played a pivotal role in my spiritual formation.
Not all of us have access to monasteries or retreat centres, but even a corner of an apartment or home can be a sacred space.
We shouldn’t minimize the deep ache of loneliness. It is a wound that many bear, often invisibly. Solitude does not always erase that ache, but it may offer us a way to befriend it. When chosen with intention, solitude becomes a meeting place where we bring our longing into communion with God and allow even our loneliness to be met with gentleness and grace.
Through solitude, we create space for God’s presence, speaking and listening to God and simply loving him and being loved. We let go of the noise of modern life, with its incessant demands and interruptions. Solitude allows the Spirit of God to interject his thoughts and desires into our souls.
Re-thinking the value of solitude can help us rediscover its deep spiritual value and how it can form part of a response to loneliness. As Mary Alban Bouchard notes in her book Overcoming Loneliness Together: A Christian Response, “loneliness is in fact something with which we may not only become at ease but may actually embrace and turn into a friend.” In doing so, we don’t reject loneliness; we transform our relationship to it. In solitude, we remember that even in our most private hours, we are never truly alone.
Solitude enriches our inner lives
We live in an age in which many of us are deeply affected by loneliness. Many elements of modern life separate us from other people, such as cars, the anonymity of many urban neighbourhoods and the custom of working remotely instead of in a shared workplace. Some aspects of modern technology enable us to connect with each other across great distances; yet that’s not the same as being in the same room with another person or groups of people.
The United Nations has stated that loneliness and isolation pose a greater threat to human health than smoking. Britain’s national government even has a Minister for Loneliness.
Loneliness is a significant issue among Canadian youth. Research indicates that young people, particularly those aged 15 to 24, experience loneliness more often than older age groups. Social media and a lack of real-world social connections are among the reasons given.
It’s hard to convey the ache and pain of loneliness, but Catholic priest Fr. Ron Rolheiser captures its essence in his book, The Loneliness Factor: “We do not feel loneliness. We are loneliness.”
Solitude is a very different experience from loneliness. Yes, it also involves the sense of feeling alone; however, unlike loneliness, solitude is a restorative state. It’s the kind of aloneness in which we feel accompanied by our thoughts, by stillness or by God’s presence.
“I never found the companion that was so companionable as solitude,” Henry David Thoreau wrote during his time immersed in nature at Walden Pond. While Thoreau emphasized the personal joy of solitude, farmer, poet and social critic Wendell Berry suggests that solitude reconnects us with the wider web of life. He suggests that in “the wild places, where one is without human obligation… one’s inner voices become audible. The more coherent one becomes within oneself as a creature, the more fully one enters into the communion of all creatures.”
Solitude is a vital element for a rich spiritual life. Jesus was not afraid to be alone. Scriptural references outline how he made time to be alone with God. He practiced the discipline of solitude daily throughout his life to commune with God, even as others clamored for his attention. For example, after healing many people while on a preaching tour in Galilee, he got up very early the next morning and went to a deserted place to pray (Mark 1:32-39). A more well-known example involves the 40 days Jesus spent in the desert to prepare for his public ministry, engaging in prayer, fasting and spiritual testing. The desert setting provided a space for solitude and reflection, allowing Jesus to deepen his relationship with God and prepare for the challenges ahead.
A physical setting where one is alone with God can help open our souls to the divine presence. I still reflect on the retreats I took decades ago at monasteries in Oka, Quebec and Gethsemane, Kentucky, and how those experiences of profound and holy silence played a pivotal role in my spiritual formation.
Not all of us have access to monasteries or retreat centres, but even a corner of an apartment or home can be a sacred space.
We shouldn’t minimize the deep ache of loneliness. It is a wound that many bear, often invisibly. Solitude does not always erase that ache, but it may offer us a way to befriend it. When chosen with intention, solitude becomes a meeting place where we bring our longing into communion with God and allow even our loneliness to be met with gentleness and grace.
Through solitude, we create space for God’s presence, speaking and listening to God and simply loving him and being loved. We let go of the noise of modern life, with its incessant demands and interruptions. Solitude allows the Spirit of God to interject his thoughts and desires into our souls.
Re-thinking the value of solitude can help us rediscover its deep spiritual value and how it can form part of a response to loneliness. As Mary Alban Bouchard notes in her book Overcoming Loneliness Together: A Christian Response, “loneliness is in fact something with which we may not only become at ease but may actually embrace and turn into a friend.” In doing so, we don’t reject loneliness; we transform our relationship to it. In solitude, we remember that even in our most private hours, we are never truly alone.
Author
Murray MacAdam
Murray MacAdam is a member of All Saints, Peterborough.
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