GIFT OF SOLITUDE
“One’s solitude belongs to the world and to God. Are these just words? Solitude has its own special work: a deepening of awareness that the world needs. A struggle against alienation. True solitude is deeply aware of the world’s needs. It does not hold the world at arm’s length”
Solitude is what my wife and I have been enjoying the most during this sabbatical. Due to COVID-19, we have been enjoying an additional level of forced or induced solitude, one might say. From an initial disappointment to frustration to now a cautious optimism of seeing fruit in our awareness, we’ve experienced multiple stages in our sabbatical. One constant theme, whether forced or not, has been solitude. Plentiful and luxurious time to dig deep, see ourselves naked without many oughts, pulls, and distractions, in all the complex proneness of our being, simply to be aware. I am not sure whether I can say there has been “a deepening of awareness of the world’s needs.” What I can say clearly is the crystallization of awareness of ourselves and our needs. I was zooming with a friend who I haven’t connected in a while and basically uttered to him that sabbatical is not for the faint-hearted. Because sabbatical asks some of the life’s most foundational questions: from What have I done? to How I have done what I have done? to Why I have done what I have done? to Who am I? to How then should I live my life?. . . It is amazing how well you get to know yourself in solitude when you are stripped of exterior noises and distractions. Just when I think turning off external noises and input is a significant feat, there awaits a gargantuan task of facing the dark and shifty interior battles. Compared to my complex interiority, exterior challenges seem like a child’s game. Over time, who I think I am or who I think I should be just melts like wax, and I find myself weary of playing the game of falsities and unrealistic expectations both from within and without. Dare I say from the growing awareness of ourselves, we can begin to project awareness of the world’s needs and see the world in pain and in need of mending through our own naked but true selves.
True solitude is an ability to turn off the noises from outside while not rejecting the world. Perhaps a final (or at least a penultimate) destination of true solitude is finding freedom within. Inner freedom then has the capacity to interact, see the freedom outside of us or lack thereof, and appropriately engage the world. In other words, pursuing and finding inner freedom builds capacity for each of us to do our part in breaking chains of bondage on societal levels.
Could it be that true solitude connects the dots between our needs and the world’s needs through rigorous and persistent work of awareness of ourselves? To put it differently, could it be that our inner freedom functions as the key that can unlock certain aspects of the world (based on our unique experiences of freedom) that are still under the bondage?
Don't ask yourself what the world needs.
Ask yourself what makes you come alive, and go do that, because what the world needs is people who have come alive.
-Howard Thurman, an influential civil rights leader, theologian, author, and philosopher
Thurman’s words narrow the field of awareness to aliveness. Nonetheless, he helpfully bridges our aliveness and the world’s needs. Frederick Buechner, a prolific author and theologian, echoes, “The place God calls you to is the place where your deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet.” The business of knowing our deep gladness is a deep and hard soul work of awareness and cannot be gleaned without paying the dues of solitude.
Even if we think we’ve arrived at certain awareness of ourselves, for the most part, our attempt to contribute to the world will be more of misses than hits. Continuing despite the misses and disappointments, and rediscover and gain better clarity of our awareness awaits us all. Then, we begin to see glimpses and hints of our impact to the world, ever encouraging us to take further and deeper steps. There comes a time when we just know when our soul’s deep gladness meets the world’s deep hunger.
Thomas Merton knew that he was called to solitude, an extreme kind even among the monks' standard, let alone average folks like me. He also knew that he possessed the uncanny gift of writing, though he experienced an often testy and roller coast relationship with his writing. The world would not know or would not have received the gift of Merton without his written books, journals, teachings, prayers, and poems. But it wasn’t his gift of writing as incredible as that was that ultimately impacted and satiated the world. His call and unwavering devotion to solitude allowed him to discover himself and discover the world’s needs. His writing was merely a tool in which he contributed to the world.
There is a saying from the Desert Fathers tradition. In Scetis, a brother went to see Abba Moses and begged him for a word. The old man said, "Go and sit in your cell and your cell will teach you everything." The Desert Fathers’ tradition is too ascetic and radical for my taste and liking, but the truth remains as a timeless exhortation. We must “go and sit in our cell” often and long enough to discover ourselves and our contribution to the world. There simply is no other way. Wilderness experiences that many biblical heroes have gone through are forced solitude with nowhere to run or turn. Think of Moses, Joseph, David, Paul, and even Jesus, to name just a few. Moses’ story in particular is poignant. When Moses was a prince, he, not being aware of himself and had not yet found inner freedom, saw the “world’s hunger” and took the matters into his own hands and killed an Egyptian. Got into deep trouble and had to flee for his life. It was after 40 years of tending sheep in the wilderness, he was able to discern and obeyed God’s call to satiate the “world’s hunger.” Henri Nouwen’s exhortation is apt here. He wrote in his book, Reaching Out: The Three Movements of the Spiritual Life, that the first movement is a movement from a desert of loneliness to a garden of solitude. None of us can avoid loneliness. The question is, what do we do with loneliness? Or how do we embrace loneliness as an invitation from God?
We all have gifts, different and unique to us. God wants us to use and steward these gifts for our sake, for the body of Christ, and for the world. However, without solitude, these gifts can become noisy gongs or clanging cymbals. Solitude then serves as a critical process of interior discernment where and how we can utilize our gifts, talents, passions, and skills.
One of our aspirations in the future, going forward, is to protect and nurture solitude beyond the sabbatical. This desire will have practical ramifications. We know we have to count the cost. The rhythm of solitude is not something we want to sacrifice. Having tasted and thus appreciated this incredible gift and duty of solitude, we realize that this is worth stewarding, preciously at this stage of our lives.
How do you or will you guard and steward solitude?