Me time. Self-care. Personal day. All these concepts seem to be having a moment lately, especially as the tense anxiety of Covid unwinds. And yet, they each have a far more historic and rooted origin and, rightly understood, can be traced to the ancient Christian practice of solitude.

What comes to your mind when you think of solitude? Blissful isolation on a beach or mountainside? A quiet park bench with a busy world whirring by? Kneeling in a candle-lit church and praying? 

How do we even do solitude in our current day and culture? And how can Dwell help? 

Practically, the first thing we need is a consistent and predictable time and place, without which we will never receive this precious gift. We see in the Gospels that Jesus had to be alone and get away from the demands of his ministry to the Disciples and the people of Galilee in order to pray. We note, though, that His time away was purposeful. He was not simply going off to catch his breath, but went away to seek the face of God. 

Before going much further, let’s acknowledge what we’re all thinking - solitude might feel selfish. There, we said it. We know that we need solitude, but what about our friends and family? Are we letting them down by saying ‘no’ in order to say ‘yes’ to solitude?  

Solitude is more than just being quiet, alone, or both. The gift of solitude consists in slowing down the pace and turning down the volume of life - including our inner voice(s) and the unceasing noise around us - and giving yourself space to attend. 

What are we attending to in solitude? Ourselves and God, and often in that order. We must attend to ourselves to begin, to make a start towards solitude. For instance, what is your body experiencing? What emotions are associated with slowing down the pace and turning down the volume? What do you smell, taste, and touch? What do you see? As we learn to be attentive to ourselves, it might be that the difficulties of the day lose their power, that our inner being is drawn into stillness in the presence of the God who is everywhere present and filling all things.  

Now that we have attended to ourselves and quieted our inner being, we are ready to turn to the Lord. It might be your breathing has slowed appropriately, and you can sit in stillness, paying attention to the voice of God, listen along to a psalm being read, or repeat quietly the Jesus Prayer. Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner. This prayer, in particular, has been a means to solitude and stillness, or hesychia, in Greek. This stillness isn’t just staying quiet and still like a statue, and to be sure, it’s qualitatively different from the stillness of Eastern religions. It is an inner stillness given as a gift from our Lord Jesus Christ that we’ve perhaps covered up with layer upon layer of worldly passions, lusts, and desires.  

And thus, we discover how the gift of solitude can give us the gift of self-knowledge. 

It’s important to note that this won’t always please us. In fact, we might be quite frightened by what we discover underneath the surface. There may be painful memories, accusing voices, or blatant sin present. But take heart, this is our moment for repentance, for healing, and for seeing exactly why solitude, attentiveness, and stillness are so necessary.  

In solitude, we also quickly discover why our culture and world have us moving at such a fast, loud, and noisy pace, and why we willingly and blindly follow where it leads. It’s much easier to dull the pain inside with the noise and clamor from outside than to deal with it head-on, repent, seek healing, or grieve the losses we’ve experienced. Such is the gift of solitude that can be ours in Christ Jesus.