It's better to be alone than wish you were

In my experience, people often see loners  as outliers—people who, for some reason, don’t mesh well with the rest. They’re often  seen as having traits or qualities that somehow don’t align with the group’s norms. There  are indeed cases in which this is true; many people who spend most of their time alone  have difficulties mingling with others.

In some cases, these people are hostile toward the world,  which could originate from bad experiences with their fellow human beings. The herd often fears  the so-called ‘lone wolf,’ as this individual is shrouded in mystery, and few know what he’s up to. In many cases, being alone gets a bad rep.

After all, doesn’t much of our happiness and enjoyment  come from spending time with others? While that’s true, other people can also be a source of  significant misery. And if one’s experiences with others have been hurtful and traumatizing  repeatedly, isn’t it to be expected that this individual begins to prefer solitude over company?

This video explores the nature of solitude, what philosophers said about it, and why  it’s better to be alone than wish you were. Imagine waking up alone. You jump out of bed, walk  into the kitchen, and open the fridge.

Everything in there is yours. The same is true for the rest  of your living space, by the way. You’ve arranged everything to your own liking without making  concessions.

In your quarters, you can do whatever you like, whenever you wish, and there’s nobody  you need to take into account. You can do as you please, on your own schedule, without considering  others’ preferences. You’re the absolute ruler of your living space.

And you cherish this unique  and irreplaceable freedom behind closed doors. Solitude is sweet. It’s the enjoyment of not  having to put up with other people: people who, on the one hand, can enrich our lives in various ways  but, on the other hand, can be significant sources of pain.

Let’s face it. In many cases, it’s  not the work that makes workplaces toxic; it’s the people in it. It’s not the school itself that  makes some kids unhappy; it’s the bad teachers and bullies.

We humans have a knack of making each  other miserable. At the same time, we’re also good at bringing each other pleasure, comfort, and  happiness. Hence, human interaction is a tradeoff; the more we interact, the more we deal with  the dark sides of our fellow humans.

The more we retreat from humanity, the less we face human  toxicity and the stress of dealing with “meddling, ungrateful, arrogant, dishonest, jealous, and  surly” people, as Marcus Aurelius described the difficult people he’d encounter daily. It’s not surprising that the sage described in the Taoist book Zhuangzi rejected the position of  ruler of the kingdom and chose a solitary life in a shack near the river, where he’d fish and be at peace. Being alone is delicious.

And when the joy of aloneness grabs us, it could become addictive.  The absence of judging eyes, the peace and quiet, the freedom. “A man can be himself only so long  as he is alone; and if he does not love solitude, he will not love freedom; for it is only when he  is alone that he is really free,” wrote Arthur Schopenhauer.

Solitude provides a space where one  isn’t bound by societal norms or the needs and desires of others; there’s no one around telling  us what to think and do, and there’s no one we need to compromise for. We can run around naked,  voice our opinions without restraint by political correctness, and engage in the weirdest hobbies;  no one will care. Yes, it’s clearly better to be alone, enjoying one’s own company and all the  perks of being outside other people’s gaze, than wish you were while suffering their presence.

Spending time alone has a profound place in several religious traditions, such as Buddhism.  In fact, the Buddha urged people to retreat from social life and regarded solitude as a cornerstone  of spiritual enlightenment. Many philosophers also acknowledged the value of solitude.

One of  them is Jean-Jacques Rousseau, who admitted he was fond of solitude, as it made him retreat  from the animosity of mankind while enjoying the smile of nature. Another is Henry David Thoreau,  who wrote a book about his experiences living alone in the woods. Let’s briefly explore  some philosophical insights on solitude.

The Rhinoceros Sutta, a Buddhist text about a  rhinoceros walking alone, profoundly explores the value of solitude. The Sutta uses the  metaphor of a rhinoceros, an animal known for its solitary nature, to show why solitude  is essential when walking the Buddhist path. It persuades the reader to disentangle from  life’s many attachments and “wander alone, like a rhinoceros.

” The Sutta makes a strong  case for being alone, suggesting that stepping back from a busy social life can help us see  things more clearly and grow as individuals. Some takeaways from this ancient text are  that avoiding attachments will benefit one’s spiritual life, as with companionship come social  expectations, which can be quite a burden. Also, sensual pleasures are nice at first glance but  ultimately lead to suffering.

People can wear us out, and sensual pleasure overall involves a  neverending quest for fulfillment. Having loads of social interaction also keeps us from  things that truly benefit us spiritually, such as meditation, self-reflection, and  contemplating Buddhist teachings. The Rhineceros, in this case, embodies the strong, resilient,  solitary animal enduring life’s hardships with equanimity and detachment.

The Sutta states:  “Having let go of passion, aversion, delusion; having shattered the fetters; undisturbed at the  ending of life, walk alone like a rhinoceros. ” Disentanglement and solitude go hand in hand. When  alone, we can distance ourselves from the world, which is often noisy and marked by  a pressure to conform, while we ask: What is it even to what I’m conforming to?

We  all take all these rules, customs, traditions, rituals, beliefs, ethics, and values for granted,  but why do we even follow them? From a distance, as a spectator of humanity, you may see more  clearly what a joke it has been compared to when you’re part of the joke itself. The Taoist  sages generally disentangled from the world, turning their backs on society and its rigidity. 

They wanted to return to a purer form, the boundless, also known as Tao. Solitude was their  answer, as being alone shielded them from outside influences from which they sought liberation. American philosopher Henry David Thoreau also experienced disentanglement from society while  living alone at Walden Pond as an experiment, which he wrote about in detail in his work Walden. 

He discovered the pleasure of getting closer to nature, simplicity, and self-sufficiency as a  consequence of spending time alone. Think about it. Generally, people constantly distract each  other.

Friends, spouses, and coworkers demand our attention on a daily basis. And if we don’t  interact with them directly, they still exist in our phones. All this human noise hinders us from  connecting with the cradle that gave birth to us and to which we eventually return, namely, the  Great Mother, the force silently at work at an ever-constant pace, never rushing, nourishing all.

The power of disentanglement in solitude also applies to the Nietzschean approach to life.  For Nietzsche, spending time alone wasn’t a matter of spiritual enlightenment or getting  closer to nature. He saw solitude as a means of distancing oneself from a herd contaminated  with what he called ‘slave morality,’ following a value system that disempowered them and basically  turned them into docile sheep, resenting their shepherds.

Nietzsche criticized the shepherd and  their ‘master morality’ as well, as they’re part of the same system of oppression and submission.  So, as far as Nietzsche was concerned, solitude grants us a way to transcend this system, enabling  the creation of new, individual values beyond the conventional framework. In short, solitude allows  us to know ourselves, embrace our individuality, and think about how we want to live our  lives authentically, on our own terms.

So, whether it’s pursuing spiritual enlightenment,  a deeper connection with nature, escaping traditional values and conventional ideas, or  creating a breeding ground for individual meaning, solitude is our companion. Therefore, is it  so surprising that many people long for it? It’s better to be alone than wish you were.

So,  we could ask ourselves: do I crave solitude? Do I, as a participant in social life, have a  lingering wish to be alone for whatever reason? In my experience, social interaction is  always a back-and-forth.

You give some, you get some. But sometimes, you may not want  to give what you give or get what you get. Then, social interaction becomes a burden, which  costs us more than that it benefits.

An intimate relationship can be very beneficial and  an opportunity for personal growth, but it also takes away from the freedom of being single, the  solitude and peace of not having a significant other to consider. A vibrant social life can  be loads of fun, but the more we socialize, the less time we have for things like meditation and  spiritual growth, as described in the rhinoceros sutta. Being part of a group or belief system can  provide us with support, meaning, and a sense of community.

Still, it compromises the authenticity  and individuality that philosophers like Emerson and Nietzsche so much celebrate. Being involved  with humanity generally can be a great thing in many areas. But often, it goes at the expense of  our connection with nature that Taoist sages and the philosopher Henry David Thoreau sought out.

In short, social interaction has a price. And sometimes, that price is just too high. But  solitude also has a price, especially when it’s excessive and unwanted.

Depending on the  individual, being cut off from people for a long time can be harmful. Loneliness and isolation  is a growing problem. Some people long for social interaction but have difficulties obtaining it. 

So, yes, it’s better to be alone than to wish you were, but it’s also better not to be alone  than to wish you weren’t. There’s a balance to be found. And in my experience, this balance  isn’t a static thing.

It depends on who I am, my life situation, and my needs at a particular  moment. It requires daily self-reflection, asking myself the question: what do I want  and need now? I’m not dealing in absolutes.

My desire for solitude changes constantly,  as does my wish for social interaction. This ongoing self-inquiry helps me to balance  aloneness and being with people. And the more I stay true to myself, the healthier my relationship  with solitude and others becomes.

Being lonely isn’t enjoyable. Being around people while  wishing you were alone isn’t great either. Changing one’s situation takes courage.

Regarding  loneliness, it takes courage to admit one’s situation and dissatisfaction and step out of  your comfort zone. When it comes to your wish for solitude, it takes courage to acknowledge  this need and step away from your social life, even if it’s just for a while, or even admit  that the people you are surrounded by cause more harm than good. Especially in cases of  abuse, following the call for solitude (or at least separation from the abuser) may be the  best thing to do.

The question is, of course, whether you are willing and able to walk away. Unfortunately, many people fear being alone. But what’s to fear if basic needs, such as food,  shelter, and safety, are met?

If you learn to be comfortable and content in solitude,  the less likely you cling to other people, the less power they have over you, and  the easier it is to kick those abusers, narcissists, and other toxic folks to the curb. It’s better to be alone than wish you were, for in solitude, we find the strength  we thought we needed from others. Thank you for watching.