What comes to mind when you hear the word solitude?
For many people, solitude is closely associated with loneliness. When they see someone alone, they may feel pity, or even assume that the person must be miserable. The idea that “being alone equals loneliness” is deeply rooted in our society.
Yet there are people who choose solitude for themselves. I am one of them. It is not because I dislike people. That would be too simple, and too negative a reason. I choose solitude because I value the purity of my thinking. When others are constantly around, their emotions and values inevitably enter the space of our minds. Conversations, atmosphere, expectations, reactions—these things influence us in ways we rarely notice. Gradually, they begin to cloud our own thoughts.
When I am alone, silence returns. In that silence, I can turn my attention toward my thoughts, my emotions, and my goals. Free from external noise, I am able to face myself more clearly. Within that quiet dialogue, I begin to see my own questions more honestly, and little by little I develop the ability to find my own answers.
Of course, it is important to learn from others. I simply choose my methods carefully. When I want to broaden my knowledge or perspective, I usually begin with books. Written words tend to carry less emotional noise than direct conversation, allowing me to focus more fully on the ideas themselves. And when there is someone whose thoughts I truly want to hear, I reach out and meet them directly. In other words, I try to take in only the information that is necessary, when it is necessary. This is my way of filtering the world.
In an age overwhelmed by information, the ability to select what truly matters is becoming increasingly important. Have you ever opened social media, only to realize hours have passed? There was a time when I used to check social media immediately after waking up. But I eventually noticed something: beginning the day by scrolling through the lifestyles and complaints of strangers was quietly lowering my productivity. The reason is simple. The moment we do that, our day begins under someone else’s standards of value. If that is the case, beginning the morning with a book that genuinely interests me feels far richer and more intentional.
Choosing solitude also means placing a small distance between ourselves and the expectations, approval, and value systems of others. It means creating space to face ourselves in silence. When we are able to use our time for ourselves, our natural focus begins to return. That time not only increases productivity, but also strengthens our sense of self-efficacy. Personally, I keep all notifications on my phone turned off. My time is something I want to control for myself.
For me, solitude is not loneliness. It is a place free from noise. Quiet, clear, and untouched by the voices of others.
Solitude, for me, is the place closest to heaven.