“We live, in fact, in an age starved for solitude.” ~C.S. Lewis
I’m wrapping up a book on the importance of cultivating solitude as a way to build and sustain excellence and stamina for the leadership path. I think many of us run in the opposite direction from anything that hints at solitude. We mistake solitude for being alone or loneliness, or view it as bad or something to be avoided at all costs. And so, to avoid solitude, we force connection (or pretended connection), rather than give ourselves a chance to lean into it, listen to it, start to understand the gifts that are abundant in it. A dear friend of mine mentioned recently how being alone and being lonely are two very different things, and I agree with him: I think solitude is the differentiating factor and brings deeper meaning and solace to our souls in a world that is doing its best to convince us time spent solo is deviant, unpleasant, and just plain not worth it.
Equanimity and calm are desirable traits that are cultivated in solitude and reflection. However, we live in a world where hyper-vigilance and reactivity without thinking reign supreme, captured in the minutest of details in our social media feeds for all to see, comment on, and react to in kind. Many leaders today are “triple-booked” for meetings they have no chance in hell of attending in any kind of present and effective way which leaves them in a constant state of reactivity and short-sightedness that works against the progress we desire to make. How can you possibly look a week, a month, a year, or multiple years out when there is constant distraction, constant pressure to deliver on outcomes, but no value placed on the time needed to consider the best way to achieve it?
Many of the historical leaders highlighted in the book I’m reading take their solitude in amounts of time that we’d consider extravagant and impossible. They take hours at a time. It’s often spent walking outside, surrounded by nature. They are most definitely not spending their days in front of a screen, in back-to-back Zoom meetings. What a completely different way of working. It appeals. Inspired by my readings, I tried something new this week: I took a look at my calendar, counted up the number of meetings I had, and decreased that number by five. It felt liberating, like I’d done something substantial for myself and how I want to show up as a leader. And truth be told, I don’t need to be in all the eff’ing meetings. And: if I accept all the invites without thinking through what I can actually do or if I actually need to be there, I end up spinning just like everyone else. I desire to be different. I must be different. And that way must include more intentional time spent in solitude.
So, how do we redefine solitude as a desired state of being, as something to actively seek out in our daily rounds, as an oasis from the constant stimulation that overwhelms us and keeps us on the conventional path because it’s the path of least resistance? Fresh ideas and perspectives are sorely needed today so we don’t keep perpetuating the same cycles and groupthink that holds us back from what is possible, who is possible within ourselves, our organizations, and our communities.
“Solitude is “a subjective state of mind, in which the mind, isolated from input from other minds, works through a problem on its own.”
This is not an easy task. Taking time away is seen as a selfish act, like you’re not being a team player, not productive enough. Why does being a leader mean you can have no boundaries over your time or your availability? That you must sacrifice that which is most precious, in order to bring your distracted and ill-informed perspective to a meeting, further reinforcing conventional thinking and approach because it’s easier and allows for this subpar showing up? Why do we accept that as OK and keep doing it?
As a leader, I’m annoyed by the demands on my time. By how it’s somehow OK to keep heaping things on my plate and couch it in terms of “opportunity” often without any increase in incentives or additional resources to help me achieve “outcomes.” There is pressure as a leader to say “yes,” when you know “no” or “not right now” is the right thing to say for all involved, even if we don’t like it when someone tells us “no.” “No” creates space for an exhale, for an honest and vulnerable conversation to happen, for a moment of sublime quiet where we can just be with each other for a bit. I want to be with people, y’know? People are so fricking amazing and we are missing it because we’re not carving out solitude within which to appreciate the fullest range of their being. Nor of our own. This must change.
“These inputs distract the mind to no end, tying it down to the mere surface of thought, like a thousand Lilliputians. They do the same to the soul, keeping us from drilling down to where reserves of inspiration lie. Serious thinking, inspired thinking, can seldom arise from texts sent while eating lunch or driving a car. Responding to these inputs generates as much thought, and as much inspiration, as swatting so many flies. They deaden both the mind and the soul.”
I feel less effective in my leadership role as the weeks go by because it’s getting harder to get to the deep thinking, the connecting of dots and determining of the best way to do things. I get pulled into meetings that are different flavors of the same thing, so much so that I start to feel like I’m in one giant circular conversation that will never end and can I get off the merry-go-round now, please, because it’s making my head dizzy and I need a snack, to go take a walk…and a hug.
Solitude may be the answer to stemming the tide, to taking a stand, to creating a different way. Here are some questions for us all to consider around solitude:
How would you define solitude? Is it something you lean into or away from and why do you think this is so?
Do you spend time in solitude on a regular basis? If so, what does that time look like for you? If not, why not?
Think of a time when solitude helped you gain insight about something important/impactful to you; what was that insight and how did it affect you?
Do you equate solitude with being alone or loneliness? In what ways can they be different things? Is there an opportunity to bring more solitude into your life? How/where could this be?