Solitude

I have the radio turned on as I start to wake up in the mornings, sipping my coffee, waiting for the brain cells to begin functioning. It was at this crucial juncture of the day a few days ago, when I was listening with half an ear to what was being talked about on the radio, that I heard the interviewee state that he spent a couple of days each week in solitude, so that he could be more spiritually effective.

Well there is nothing like hearing a statement which I take exception with, to get the brain cells moving. I believe my first truly conscious thought on that particular morning was something along the lines of, "Well, isn't that special for him." I know this was not his intent, but in that one sentence, I felt as though my life as it is currently playing out... actually anyone who spends their days doing full time care for another person or persons... we totally discounted. If it takes days of solitude in order to be spiritually effective, then I guess that's not going to be me. As you might have guessed, it stuck in my craw a bit.

It is this particular event that was brought to mind when I got to the chapter on solitude in the Wired to Create book that I have been reading. Essentially the whole chapter is about how having times of solitude is pretty much a requirement for being creative. Many examples were given of famous artists and thinkers and inventors who had the habit of spending more or less time in solitude. Some went off to write in lonely huts, others would take hours long walks by themselves, or pretty much kept themselves to themselves in their rooms, a la Emily Dickinson. And once again I find myself thinking that must be nice for them.

It does raise some questions. Can a mother be creative? Can a mother be spiritually effective? Even though the idea of solitude when raising children is pretty non-existent? Does a parent need to wait until the children are grown or at least spending most of the day at school before solitude, and thus productivity, can be realized? These are kind of silly questions, because I'm sure we can all think of various people, who, even though they were raising and caring for children, managed to be both creative and spiritually effective.

This isn't to say that mothers do not need solitude. We do! Think of all the jokes about hiding in the bathroom because it is the only door that has a lock on it that mothers share. Everyone needs quiet moments in their days. We need these moments as much as we need to sleep at night. While everyone makes a good show of being able to work and get things done from morning until night, that doesn't mean that we are doing our best work or that it is the best way to live. It's the idea that unless we can carve out great big huge chunks of solitude in our daily lives that we will only manage to be mediocre that so infuriates me.

What would be more helpful in all the instances is to help others figure out how to carve out solitude when others depend upon them. I don't know how it would look for other people, but I know how I manage to find some quiet in my life. Those moments of doing daily housework are great times. Unless you have a toddler who likes to follow you around everywhere, the chances of older children wanting to hang around while you do dishes or laundry or vacuuming seem slim. There is always that chance that they will be asked to help, and my experience is that they keep away from those activities. Instead of being irritated, I often (not always) try to enjoy the time when others are not calling my name. None of these things takes particular mental engagement, so I am free to let my mind think about other things. Walking the dogs could also be another place to find some solitude, if your children are old enough to not have to go with you.

The need for daily quiet is also why I instituted the idea of quiet time for the house after children had given up their naps. We all need a chance to disengage and pursue our own interests, and it can happen with other people in the house. Solitude does not have to mean alone in the woods. I've even found that if a child is quiet or asking just the occasional question, I don't even mind if they are watching me, if I am making something. I fear we get hung up on the being along-thing, and forget that solitude is really just a time to think or daydream.

If life has been particularly stressful or chaotic, there have been times when I crave just being alone for several hours, or even for a whole day. Recharging our batteries if we have let them slip into a dangerously low mode is vital. We do need to pay attention to how we are functioning, and time apart can help to refresh us.

What is not solitude? Looking at your phone or Facebook or whatever social media platform you prefer. I try really hard not to bring my phone in with me during that hour of quiet I have carved out for myself. It is not restful or peaceful. I would go so far as to say that anything with talk on it is also not solitude... no radio with voices or conversation, no movies or some sort of video on, no recorded books... your brain needs time to think its own thoughts, and not someone else's. Even reading books, unless you are reading and then thinking about what you've read isn't really solitude. It's restful, it's enjoyable, but it's not a way to just think quietly.

We caregivers can enjoy solitude in our lives, but I think it has to look differently from how we often think of the word. It needs to be purposefully carved out of our day, and will often have to happen while we are engaged in doing something else. Our children will have to be a part of it, in that we will need to develop a family system that allows for quiet periods. And we need to have appropriate expectations. Each season of our life will be different. The season with many young children will not lend itself to solitude as much as other seasons will, and we will have to be more creative and purposeful in finding it during them.

And circling back to that original, vaguely annoying comment that started me off on all these musings, it is good to remember that God is everywhere. God is in the messy and loud moments of our lives as much as He is there is the quiet, calm, and peaceful ones. Perhaps the greater spiritual ability is to remember to stop and listen and talk to God in the loud and messy moments. It's easy (or easier) to talk to God when that's all that is in front of you, the real gift is to have a conversation with God in the midst of the crazy.

Comments

Kristin Mueller said…
This is helpful - I'm figuring out why I get so angry when my dear spouse lets the children wander into the kitchen when I'm trying to just take 10 minutes and clean up a little. That's my quiet space! It's definitely not quiet (or an easy task to do) when one is wrapped around your legs and you're trying to load the dishwasher...

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