Solitary Play: The Paradox of Connection and Solitude
We, Homo sapiens — the so-called “social” animals — are conditioned, often compelled, to participate in the intricate dance of social interactions. From an early age, we are subtly and overtly taught to believe that our well-being is inextricably tied to our ability to maintain these connections, however superfluous they may be. The implicit warning is clear: without these bonds, we risk becoming “abnormally unhealthy,” estranged from the collective — from what evolutionary psychologists refer to as the “pack.”
The truth in this is indeed undeniable: our survival depends on social interaction. Neurochemically and psychologically, the suffering caused by solitary confinement — deliberately used in our “democracies” — is one of the most torturous forms of punishment. We undoubtedly require human connection, in its diverse, complex, and intimate forms, as much as we need water. Even from a purely biological perspective, our happiness, joy– and hence our pain–are born from these connections.
Yet, in a society increasingly shaped by urbanization and digitization, we find ourselves caught in a paradox — a paradox where personalities are shaped by a collective mindset, and self-perception is driven by conformity. Culture has steeped our psyches in an excessive — and often misplaced — emphasis on interpersonal intelligence, the art of navigating others’ emotions and thoughts, often at the expense of self-awareness.
In our zealous, sometimes desperate, pursuit of external connection — frequently used to silence the neglected, clamorous voices within — we have tragically overlooked what thinkers and artists throughout history have so profoundly revered: the raw, unfiltered, and achingly authentic communion with the self.
“Taking a new step, uttering a new word, is what people fear most.” -Dostoevsky, crime and punishment
Isolation is not merely discouraged but often rendered impossible, this oversight becomes even more poignant. While our survival and happiness are undeniably tied to social bonds, a deeper, often overlooked truth persists: Without a genuine connection with ourselves, every other connection is inherently incomplete. For what is a self if it lacks awareness of itself? Are we not mere shadows, parroting the will of the herd, if we have not wrestled with our own existence? Is loving even possible when the external world merely serves only to keep the self busy and unaware? An escape.
“Your visions will become clear only when you can look into your own heart. Who looks outside, dreams; who looks inside, awakes.” — Carl Jung, who was onto something…
From a young age, we are inundated with directives to interact, understand, and love others — commands that, while crucial for our survival, often overshadow an equally vital task: understanding, observing, and loving ourselves. Our education systems, cultural norms, and even our familial teachings have failed to normalize — and moralize — the practice of self-reflection. They have overlooked the importance of cultivating a relationship with our volatile emotions, our inner world, where true understanding begins.
In many cultures, the words “alone” and “loneliness” are carelessly equated with failure, antisocial behavior, and emotional emptiness. Being alone, whether by choice or circumstance, is often seen as a deficiency. Yet this perspective is fundamentally flawed. Developmental psychologists observe that infants frequently engage in “solitary play,” a crucial process where they absorb and explore the vast, stimulating, and often bewildering world around them. This early engagement in solitude is not a sign of deficiency, but rather a vital aspect of growth, allowing the child to develop independence, creativity, and a deeper understanding of themselves, all the while receiving receiving unconditional love for that exploration. It is Embracing solitude can be an empowering experience, fostering a sense of self that is not reliant on constant external validation.
If you choose to forgo a night out with friends to immerse yourself in the writings of Avicenna, play the piano on a Friday night, or explore the profound mysteries of consciousness and our existence in this reality, society is quick to label you as melancholic, a misfit unversed in the pleasures of life. Choosing the quiet company of Dostoevsky or delving into the complexities of mathematics and physics over the social niceties of the crowd may lead to accusations of being aloof or disconnected. Yet, it is within this sacred sanctuary of solitude that the soul truly expands, where wisdom takes root, and understanding flourishes — even if the world, in its blindness, fails to see the nobility of such a path.
“A man can be himself only so long as he is alone; and if he does not love solitude, he will not love freedom; for it is only when he is alone that he is really free.”“ — Arthur Schopenhauer
It wasn’t until figures like Muhammad in the cave of Hira, Buddha under the Bodhi tree, and Moses on Mount Sinai embraced deep solitude that they gleaned the “divine” wisdom that would ripple across the world, shaping entire civilizations. Even as an atheist (an anti-theist even), I can appreciate how these moments of isolation unlocked a force within them that transcends the ordinary, allowing them to channel profound insights that would resonate through history. No wonder so many religions are metaphorical for this journey inward; within the human soul lies the potential for both heaven and hell, a reflection of the boundless depths we can explore through solitude and introspection. The Hindu practice of meditation to connect with the divine self also reflects the idea that within our own minds and hearts lie the keys to both liberation and suffering. Solitude is a metaphor for the profound exploration of the human soul, where the potential for both heaven and hell resides, waiting to be discovered.
Solitude, moreover, has been evolutionarily advantageous, as seen in hunter-gatherer societies where individuals often spent time alone to hunt, gather resources, and reflect on strategies. This necessity for self-reliance and mental clarity gained during solitary moments were crucial for survival, enabling our ancestors to innovate, avoid conflict, and ultimately secure the well-being of their community; without such solitary experiences, their ability to adapt and thrive in challenging environments would have been severely compromised, putting their survival in jeopardy.
Moreover, it is my strong assertion that the prevailing psychological interpretation of social withdrawal — merely as a symptom of depression or a maladaptive reaction to cognitive distress — overlooks a vital aspect of human behavior. Social withdrawal, far from being a simple byproduct of mental illness, is a deeply ingrained evolutionary response, designed to prompt introspection and recalibration during times of psychological strain. This behavior is not merely a sign of distress; it is a mechanism that compels us to retreat, reflect, and reassess our cognitive distortions. Hence the success of therapy, especially psychoanalysis, as it offers a space to connect with one’s true self, uncover hidden layers, and reignite a childlike curiosity, almost as if we are reconnecting with our original essence.
Research in evolutionary psychology supports this perspective, suggesting that withdrawal can serve as a protective strategy, allowing the mind to process complex emotions and reduce the risk of further harm. While traditional therapeutic approaches often advocate reintegration into social groups as a remedy for the mind’s perceived “misleading signals,” a more nuanced approach values equipping individuals with the tools for deep self-examination, enabling a re-engagement with the world marked by a quiet, yet profound, transformation. A metamorphosis.
It is no surprise, then, that Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT), one of the most validated psychotherapeutic treatments, evolved partly from Stoic ideals. The Stoics, particularly Marcus Aurelius in his Meditations, emphasized the importance of introspection and self-mastery. Marcus Aurelius, as a supreme ruler, championed the practice of examining one’s thoughts and emotions to cultivate inner strength and wisdom.
“The soul becomes dyed with the color of its thoughts.” — Marcus Aurelius
Ultimately, there is an inherent danger in engaging deeply into the self, as humanity and existence are, at their core, inherently traumatizing. From the moment of birth, when a baby’s first breath is often a cry — a response to the sudden and overwhelming stimuli of a new world — our journey begins with a confrontation with the unknown. Engaging with the depths of our consciousness is a delicate battle we do amongst our fellow can expose us to the raw and unfiltered realities of existence, which can be overwhelming. And yet, in the shadow of this danger, there lies a hidden promise — one that whispers of a truth not easily grasped, but worth seeking for those willing to walk the finest line between awareness and oblivion.