Why Time Alone Might Be the Most Nourishing Thing You’re Not Giving Yourself

When was the last time you spent time alone — not because you had to, but because you wanted to?

No phone.
No agenda.
No one else to please.

Just you, your breath, your thoughts, and maybe the gentle company of tea, birdsong, or a long stretch of sky.

In a world that praises busy schedules and full calendars, solitude can seem… unnecessary. Even selfish.

But solitude — real, intentional solitude — is something else entirely.

It’s not loneliness.
It’s not avoidance.
It’s a sacred kind of restoration.

There’s a quiet intelligence that only shows up when the world goes quiet.

When you choose to be alone with yourself — without distraction or performance — something subtle but powerful happens. You start to hear yourself. Not the to-do list version. The real version.

Your longings.
Your tired places.
Your unspoken clarity.

Time alone can bring you back to yourself in a way nothing else can.

Psychologist Anthony Storr, in his classic book Solitude: A Return to the Self, suggests that time spent in intentional solitude fosters creativity, resilience, and emotional strength. It’s in these quiet pockets of aloneness that the nervous system recalibrates. That the brain consolidates. That your identity breathes.

Neuroscience calls this the default mode network — a brain state activated during restful introspection. It’s where your most creative, compassionate, and wise self begins to speak.

Solitude doesn’t have to mean silence or stillness (though it often helps).

It might look like:

• Journaling under a tree

• Painting with no outcome in mind

• Taking a slow walk and noticing your surroundings

• Cooking just for yourself — with care

• Reading something that makes your soul feel seen

• Sitting in stillness and letting your thoughts come and go

The point is not the activity — it’s the intention behind it.

This is about creating space where nothing needs to be achieved, fixed, or

validated. A space where you get to show up for yourself — as you are.

Here’s something worth exploring:

“What do I do when I’m alone… that leaves me feeling more whole than before?”

Not numbed.
Not distracted.
But genuinely replenished.

Your answer might surprise you. It might be different than what others find fulfilling.

That’s good.

That’s the point.

Set aside 30 minutes this week for intentional solitude — no scrolling, no multitasking, no noise.

Just you, alone, in your chosen way.

Then ask:

• What did I notice when I slowed down?

• What came up — emotionally or mentally — in the quiet?

• What part of me felt met, seen, or soothed?

• What would it look like to build more of this into my life?

Let this be an experiment, not a performance. No right or wrong. Just curiosity.

You don’t have to escape to a mountain cabin to meet yourself.

Solitude isn’t a luxury for monks and mystics — it’s a life-giving practice, available in everyday moments.

It’s in the way you sit quietly with your coffee before the day begins.

Or take a walk without needing it to count as steps.

Or breathe in silence, just to remember that you’re here.

You are worthy of your own time.

You are allowed to step away.

Not to disconnect from life — but to reconnect to yourself.

Let time alone become a doorway — not to loneliness, but to presence.

Wishing you calm and clarity,

Maartin