Dalia Lama
“One cannot even begin to be conscious of oneself as a separate individual without another person with whom to compare oneself. A man in isolation is a collective man, a man without individuality.”
Anthony Storr in “Solitude: A Return to Self”
A ESPN TV commercial in 2007 depicted a woman, on her front lawn, stretching out for a run. Preparing for the run with her was a multitude of characters: her husband, children, pets, neighbors, co-workers, her boss and a host of others. They each begin the journey with her, continually interrupting her exercise and time alone. Her boss asks about some sales figures and a project deadline at work. Her teenage daughter is declaring that she and Victor are ‘ready’ while her younger daughter begs for a puppy. A neighbor lets her know she has been missed at book club. Her doctor is warning her of her blood pressure while her husband is indicating he will need to miss her sister’s shower in lieu of the golf club championship tomorrow. Undaunted, the woman continues to run until all have fallen off the back of the pack or collapsed by the side of the trail in exhaustion. Finally, she is alone. She is “Just Doing It.”
I have felt similar pressures at times, even though I have consciously chosen to lead a simpler life with fewer attachments. While I have always been very fortunate in my life with friends and family, there remained an unexplored part of my self. The quiet cries from that self were difficult to hear at times, but they are always there and always calling me out. The struggles in my life were nowhere near to the struggles of the prisoners that Viktor Frankl tells of in “Man’s Search for Meaning,” yet we shared a common bond, as all humans do, in the desire to have the ability to choose our attitude in any given set of circumstances.
I believe our circles shift over time. A newborn baby will consume your time and leave little room for self or community. Pressures at work or volunteering in the community will have similar ebbs and flows. Struggles in a marriage may push you in opposite directions. The three circles remain, however, and failure to address the critical needs in any one will create anxiety that can ripple through the system, affecting all within its reach.
My hike on the Long Trail was an important exercise in solitude for myself. Anthony Storr elaborates on the benefits of solitude as an agent for individual change; “The capacity to be alone is a valuable resource when changes of a mental attitude are required,” (Storr 1998, p. 29). Following in the footsteps of Jesus in the wilderness and Buddha under the tree, my time alone on the trail led me to find community, family and self as I had not before. In a world where noise and interference is ubiquitous, where family and community are consistently wrestling for my attention, time spent truly alone is precious.
The self though, is only as meaningful as it relates to others, in my case those in my circles of family and community. Storr posits that “a sense of identity depends upon interaction with both the physical world and other people” (Storr, 1998, p. 35). The pursuit of self should not be the end of the journey, but only the beginning of greater understanding of how my circles of self are distinct yet inextricably linked.
For me, the simple act of a solitary retreat into the woods of Vermont was the Everest I chose to climb. That was my “it.” It allowed me time to reflect and renew, to realize that I was capable of summiting that peak, and allowing others to understand why it was important for them too. As a result, it has helped me articulate what is important to me in my life, what is important for my family, and what is important to the friends and neighbors that I pass through this world with. We each have our own Everest to climb, be it the real monolith or the one simple hope that will not expire.
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