Solitude vs. Isolation: Where is the Healthy Place to Land?
I have this lovely friend. She's been through a lot in her life, a lot that could make her bitter, introspective, and a touch soul-destroyed. But she's more than a survivor. Her's is a life that is now devoted to supporting other people who have survived horrendous damage - be it psychological, spiritual, physical, or sexual abuse - and to finding her own way to thrive again. She never claims to be perfect. She's upfront about the ways in which she's not. But she is getting on with life and helping other people while she helps herself. Because "perfection" is not a prerequisite of "contribution." I love that.
Side note, before I get to the main topic: how come there isn't a cosmic quota for how much hardship a person can go through in their life before its all lottery wins and lucky breaks? Because I think that would be an amazing idea.
Anyway. She sent me a picture of Jim Carrey captioned with a quote of his. It said "Solitude is dangerous. It's very addictive. It becomes a habit after you realise how peaceful and calm it is. It's like you don't want to deal with people anymore because they drain your energy." Apparently old Jim -- AKA the mask, Ace Ventura pet detective, the guy with the stretchy, plasticky, comedic face - has undergone a spiritual awakening of sorts and is now all deep-thinking and wise. He just returned from weeks of solitude in the bush or something like that (I'm not sure here. Don't quote me).
My friend asked me my thoughts on the quote. I have to say, its an interesting one. I like that Jim is so out there with his reinvention, and I'm not sure whether he was being poetic, or sarcastic. But here's what I think about solitude:
There's a difference between solitude and isolation. Loving solitude is a beautiful, healthy, regenerative thing. Needing isolation can be dangerous.
There was a time where I couldn't do solitude. I didn't feel safe alone with my thoughts. I hid in plain sight - busy running a business, writing a book, being at every event, working crazy hours, maintaining a nuts kind of a social life, and so on. What would happen if I stopped? What would happen if one of the juggling balls dropped? Would I drop them all? Would I be completely out of control? Then I confronted the things I was afraid of. One by one, I took them down out of the "too hard" cloud that was hanging over my head. It was terrifying. It was empowering. It was painful.
It was beautiful.
Life has been reinvented somewhat. It looks barely anything like it did three years ago. Jobs, social circles, expressions of faith, hobbies, houses, daily routines, approaches to wellness - so much has changed. I thought about the things that were too hard to think about. I discarded the things that weren't healthy, even if those unhealthy things had become a crutch for me and it scared me to do so. I grew. I changed.
On the other side of the reinvention, I love solitude. Taking time away from the grind of daily life to sit on my back deck and watch my kids play without checking my phone or working. I love sitting outside and listening to the sounds of breeze and birdsong. I love sitting by the crackling fire with a glass of wine and nothing big on my mind. I've released myself from the evangelical tendency to think there are eternal consequences for my every action or inaction (Because like, God is pretty big. I don't have to be). I'm not trying to solve the worlds problems or think my way through complex big ideas. There's time for that, but not during my wine and crackling fire time. Coz a girl has to recharge!
Solitude is not something I could ever do before. But now I love it.
The thing is, its very different from isolation. If solitude is regenerative, isolation is the very opposite.
Even in my raging workaholic days, I could do isolation. You can be isolated in a pile of work, too busy to connect with people who care about you. You can be too busy to be alone with your thoughts. You can pull away from the world and hope no one notices. That is isolation. It's a form of hiding. Where solitude says "I'm here. I'm me. I don't need to be anything else," isolation says "Don't come near me. Leave me alone. I don't want to be around anyone.. I can't be around anyone."
Isolation doesn't mean you are spending time with yourself and you are happy about it. Isolation can be damaging. Because isolation, to me, is fruit of fear, or of poor mental health. That can make you judge yourself far too harshly. It can make it very hard to rejoin society when you feel better, because that choice makes you confront the fear what people thought of you during your absence, or what they will think of you when you rejoin. (Side note: I've also found that most people don't think about you nearly as much as you think about yourself!)
Getting out of an isolation loop can be tricky. There are so many reasons you got to that point. Getting back isn't always as easy as just turning up to an event and announcing your return to the land of the living. Isolation doesn't improve silence. It compounds it. The silence of isolation isn't comfortable. Its heavy with all sorts of bad.
Knowing your own personality type, your comfort zone, and your type of "healthy" is an important skill in maintaining the balance between solitude and isolation.
My friend pointed out that abusive people will often shame you for needing solitude, recharge time or ever saying "no." Their demands take precedence over your own health. It's taken her a while to reclaim her need for solitude.
Now - a need for solitude is different from isolation. If you are an introvert, then quiet time matters. So don't feel pressured to fill every diary spot. A person who knows you and cares about you will either know the difference, or they'll listen when you say "this is what I need."
If it crosses over into isolation, then the friend stays important. They may gently challenge you and say "Hey I don't think this kind of isolation is healthy." An abuser will say the same thing, about solitude or isolation, but they make it all about them-self or their expectations. If someone comes and presses on your self-protection bubble, then ask yourself which one it is. If its the caring friend, let them in even if you are feeling pretty crappy about life. Their love and care will make it easier to come out of the isolation bubble, even if the conversations that requires aren't easy. If it is the demanding, selfish person who is making it all about them, then you are free to choose solitude, and you should - for the sake of your health.
Because Jim Carrey is right about one thing. Sometimes people drain your energy. Solitude can be a little addictive like that. These days I have an "emotional coinage" budget. I don't spend more than I've got in the bank. Some people will take all you've got. Other's will help you recharge. Sometimes you give when there will be no return on investment, because you love that emotional vampire. Sometimes, the person you've got to spend your emotional coinage on is yourself. Know yourself. Know your needs. Know the difference. Sure, challenge yourself in certain areas. That is healthy. But a healthy person sets their own terms, and recognises their limits.
So there you go! My thoughts on Jim Carrey's quote.
Solitude can be great. Isolation, not so much. Know the difference and revel in the healthy one!
Happy Friday ya'll
Kit K
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“Just Choose Joy!” Um. No.
This post might be a bit of a rant. I'm okay with that. It might have very few scriptures to back up the stream of consciousness. I'm also okay with that. After all, I'm not a pastor or a theologian. I'm a Christian who is exploring faith, turning it over, turning it inside out, and examining all the different ways the light can refract.
I have an issue that I want to throw a little light on myself. This week I listened to a new song by a band I just love. And it well and truly pissed me off. The song was titled "Joy." Its catchy. Its not untrue. But it sends a message I think can be a little harmful, because it is so often repeated in churches across the globe and it can create unhealthy pressure.
The opening scene in the video clip showed two news anchors covering a mega-storm that was devastating the nation. One anchor was presenting the negative side of the story. The other was frustrated that she couldn't find the upside. Spoiler alert: the one who was trying to find the brighter note was the 'right' one. Because he was choosing joy.
Fair point. Learning to choose joy is a good thing. Learning to have faith in God when the situation seems dire is wonderful as it can take the lid off the pressure cooker of life. If you can choose joy, then you should. Good for you.
But for heavens sake (pun not intended), if there's a mega-storm coming at you, threatening to level everything around you, you don't have to be happy about it. If you are happy about it, I'm really worried. Or suspicious that you have a dishonestly inflated insurance policy and you're getting a windfall out of hurricane whatever.
Negative emotions are ok. They are fine. God made them. They shouldn't be what we build our lives on, but they are an essential part of the process of life. If we can't embrace the full spectrum of human emotion, if we only allow ourselves to express "Christian" emotions of peace and joy, then we almost guarantee the other God-designed emotions will become bottled, fermented, and explosive. I remember when I was young, my mum used to make non-alcoholic ginger beer. It was relatively uneventful until one batch fermented too far and blew up. You should have seen the mess. Wow. It covered everything in the shed.
It's a decent picture of what can happen when we deny ourselves the honesty of sadness, anger, grief etc. you know, when we just choose joy. Those other emotions become all-encompassing. They then have the potential to derail things.
If you are going through a mega-storm in your life, don't feel pressured to feel joy.
Grieve, if you have faced loss. God made grief. He turned His head away when His son was crucified. He couldn't look. I think He felt grief then.
Be angry, if you have been wronged. Didn't God invent anger too? Didn't Jesus express anger in the temple? Didn't God tell us "be angry but sin not?" The emotion is not the sin, friends. Keying your ex-boyfriends car, or rage-spending on a credit card that doesn't belong to you is the sin. (Insert a million other possible examples)
Be sad, if you are facing sadness. Didn't the Bible give us enough examples of God feeling sadness when he looked at the human race? Why do we lump these emotions in a basket marked "Bad?" They're human. And given the fact that God is no stranger to these emotions, I'd even say they're divine.
I refuse to use the term "negative emotion" any more. Emotions are necessary for us to process life. But if you want a key to peace, and indeed joy, then the trick is to let God in the troughs with you. Don't force yourself to always appear is if you are on the peak. He sees all your grief/anger/sadness already. Why not let Him share it?
I kinda blame the faith movement for this maladaptive approach to human emotion. There were a lot of good things about the faith movement, but this one stinks. You don't have to be up all the time. Gosh! Even God isn't.
I've been a little curious looking around churches and seeing a lot of depressed and anxious people. I don't know what the statistics are for the church globally, but I suspect that in some cases, our statistics on depression and anxiety could actually be worse than the unchurched world. Why?
I have a theory (Okay... a few). One of them is that we think Christianity demands perfection of us, and perfection means faultless emotional "upness". But my goodness that is so inauthentic.
In the last couple of years, I've given up faultless emotional upness. I'm happier than I ever was. I used to think, like a lot of Christians think, that we need to let our light shine constantly so a dark world can see and be drawn to our faith.
But newsflash. Candles flicker. Stars twinkle...in that things get in the way of their light so they are momentarily more dull. Clouds get in the way of the sun. The only light sources that are constant and unwavering are artificial.
Lets not be artificial. It hurts us. It makes us inauthentic. It makes others wary of what we are hiding.
You don't have to choose joy all the time. Sometimes you need to choose a good cry, a session with the punching bag, or a journaling session when you pour out your broken heart. Do this, and joy will be easier the next day, or the day after that. Do whatever helps you process the hurt and then you'll be able to find the sunny side again in time.
Just saying.
I hope joy is always easy for you. If it isn't, you are in good company, friend. Jesus, most of the world, and me are right there with you.
Cheers
Kit K