The Quiet Place – An Addiction to Solitude

I have a deep love for the peaceful quiet that only solitude can create. When the dogs are sleeping, and the only sounds I hear are birds chirping, my introspective mind comes alive.

The blank in between the interactions, where I can find my true self, uncluttered by the sounds and feelings of others. This is my chapel, my holy place, where I speak with my soul.

It is the place I go for yoga and meditation, the place I go when I need to think. At first, I started in my home but, as I grow, I am learning to take it with me everywhere.

I build quite meditation and rest times into my day. Prescheduled breaks give me something to look forward to if I’m not excited about a project in front of me.

I’m a huge believer in positive reinforcement (although taking things away from me worked well for my mother when I was growing up). She called it The Taming of Shrew. For a while, I wondered why she was comparing me to a rodent.

My mother would set a clear expectation of what she wanted from me and what would be taken away if I did not comply. Rewards for good deeds also helped as motivators.

Now, as an adult rodent, I am in charge of motivating myself. I use lists and rewards, many of which are times of quiet reflection or writing breaks. Retreating back into myself, diving deeply, settling in my quiet space.

The atmosphere in my world is pleasant because I control most of the elements. It’s intoxicating and blissful. Why would I ever want to leave?

Careful not to get too comfortable.

This place, where art is born, songs come to life, and birds sing is too perfect, to the point of addiction. It would be easy to settle into a monk-like solitude, giving up speaking, but that is taking the easy way out.

Not speaking is easier. Being alone is often easier. I don’t want to settle for what is easy.

This comfort zone I’m standing in, it’s something I need to push. Walking out of it slowly, step by step, learning new things every single day.

18 thoughts on “The Quiet Place – An Addiction to Solitude

  1. You are unique. Solitude and not speaking are terrifying to most people. That they are easy for you makes me wonder if they are not gifts given to you’ for a very good reason.

  2. Since I’m on the autism spectrum, I have to fight against going silent. Learning to use to meditate is difficult because my mind is like grand central station. i’m having one of those days today. However, some little birds are setting up a concert in my backyard, so I will take your advice. Bird song and cat purrs can bring peace even to my noisy mind.I needed the reminder, your timing is excellent.

  3. I too have a love of silence and my own company (plus my plants, which answer back in their own unique, gentle way by growing and doing their thing). I too meditate, probably in a very similar way as I was taught to meditate by a Christian friend who learned from John Main, who was a Christian monk who learned how to meditate in the Buddhist East. Mindfulness stops the world from sucking me into depression. I have been married 38 years to Sue who writes her own blog at and understands that I need time out alone to survive so I am allowed to be alone but never lonely.
    Thank you for reminding me I am not alone in being alone!

  4. I can relate. I struggle a bit with the urge to become a hermit. A good day for me is one I have spent alone, usually in my pyjamas, not having to speak to anyone. But I recognise this is not healthy, long-term. Except for the pjs…they are always a good idea 🙂

  5. I relate so much with your words! I love how you are the one deciding to “not settle for what is easy”. It happens too often that introvert people are pushed out of their comfort zone. I don’t feel ready to step out of silence and solitude yet, but your words inspire me a lot 🙂 thanks for sharing!

  6. Thank you for this very open post and blog. I can fully relate to your stories and life. It is a pleasure to meet you here. Thanks O.

  7. After the most traumatic stages of my illness quiet became extremely necessary to curb my anxiety. I have to confess, though, that I have become more isolated than I should be. Not just that I’m pushed into it a bit by my disability, but that I cling to it for safety.

    I also easily experience sensory overload, which you sort of wrote about more recently. The phone ringing, too much talk, car alarms going off, and that type of noise is very painful for me to bear. I do enjoy the sounds of birds and rain. I also like the sound of my husband’s voice, and my own voice as I write. Writing is a very relaxing and rewarding habit and pleasure for me.

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