In a world that constantly demands our attention, solitude can feel like an uncomfortable interruption to the constant stream of noise and expectation.

Yet I have always found such incredible comfort in its presence. It is something I return to often, not as an escape, but as a necessity.

But solitude is not loneliness.

Loneliness is an ache. It is a sign that someone or something is absent. Solitude, however, is presence. It is finding enjoyment in your own, quiet company, without distraction or the need to perform.

This is why many thinkers have understood solitude not as a detachment from life, but as clarity within it. It is a place where we can step away from the crowd to access our more profound thoughts, unshaped and uncorrupted by conformity and the approval of others.

Indeed, insight, creativity and self-understanding often struggle to flourish in busy environments, where they are never able to realise their full potential. It is only in quiet spaces where there is fertile ground for things to take root. But in contemporary society, quietness of this kind is rare. Quiet moments are quickly assigned productive tasks or busy distractions. Screens replace silence. Stimulation replaces introspection.

But when we never pause, we never reflect, and without reflection, we risk living on the surface, shaped more by reaction than intention.

To choose solitude is to create space for thought, meaning and imagining something different. It is to listen to your mind, rather than the expectations, needs and wants of others. It is to ask yourself the question of “what do I believe” so that you might escape what you have been told.

Solitude also asks something more challenging, and that is, to be honest.

It can reveal discomfort, boredom and fear, but it can also uncover the things we hide in conversation and avoid in company.

As Samuel Johnson warned, “If you are idle, be not solitary; if you are solitary, be not idle.” To benefit from solitude, we must engage with it actively, through reflection, creation, or calm attention.

We are often taught that fulfilment lies in connection, which it can, but connection with others becomes deeper and more sincere when we have first made peace with ourselves.

And this is the point of solitude.

It gives us the dignity of self-knowledge, which extinguishes the need to be seen or validated.

It is not absence, but presence. It is not a retreat from life, but a return to what is most real.

Let us not fear solitude. Let us learn to sit with it, and in doing so, with ourselves.