Solitude is one of those spiritual disciplines that sounds out-of-place in our world of unlimited connectivity. How can we learn to be alone with ourselves when we measure life by the proliferation of trite social interactions, likes, and emojis? For the Christian, solitude is an opportunity to retreat from noise and listen to the Spirit. The challenge is this: we’re so accustomed to distraction that solitude feels wrong.

Stephen Batchelor recognizes this, quoting Victor Hugo in the preamble:

[T]he entirety of hell is contained in one word: solitude. . . . Solitude is good for great minds but bad for small ones. It troubles the brains that it does not illuminate. (ix)

In solitude, the humanity we repress through distractions is amplified: both fears and joys, yearning and anxiety. You can think of solitude like a form of training in humanity. It is “a way of being that needs to be cultivated” (xii). With practice, we come to be at home within ourselves. Ultimately, we begin to recognize our dependence upon each other in our shared humanity:

Here lies the paradox of solitude. Look long and hard enough at yourself in isolation and suddenly you will see the rest of humanity staring right back. (151)

The Art of Solitude is a curious book. The 32 chapters are brief self-contained meditations. I read one every morning to give myself time to digest the prose. The chapters fall into four categories:

1. Art and Solitude
2. Contemplation
3. Medicine
4. Philosophy

By medicine, Batchelor recounts his experiments with psychedelics like peyote and ayahuasca. By philosophy, Batchelor mines the 16th Century French philosopher, Montaigne. The entire work is infused with a Buddhist perspective, although Batchelor would consider his view to be a secular version of Buddhist practice.

Batchelor’s Art of Solitude is rewarding reading for anyone interested in exploring solitude and mindfulness.

Batchelor, Stephen. The Art of Solitude. Yale UP, 2020.