The Philosophy of Solitude: Embracing the Power of Alone Time

Hello and welcome back to IntelligentPod—the place where big ideas meet everyday life. I’m your host, Sophie Lane, and I’m so glad you’re here with me today. Whether you’re joining me for your morning walk, a cozy evening at home, or somewhere in between, I’m excited to dive into a topic that I think is both timeless and incredibly relevant: “The Philosophy of Solitude: Finding Value in Being Alone.” Now, when you hear the word “solitude,” what comes to mind? For some, it might conjure images of peaceful mountain retreats, quiet mornings with a cup of coffee, or long, introspective walks. For others, solitude sounds a bit… well, lonely. Maybe even a little scary. In a world that often celebrates connection, networking, and constant communication, choosing—or even just tolerating—being alone can seem at odds with what we’re told is “normal.” But today, I want to unpack this idea a bit. Is being alone really something to avoid? Or—if we look a little deeper—could solitude actually be one of the most valuable experiences we can cultivate? We’ll explore solitude from philosophical, psychological, and cultural perspectives. I’ll share some studies, a real-life story, and, of course, some practical tips for embracing alone time in your own life. So, let’s settle in, take a deep breath, and explore the rich terrain of being alone. Let’s start with the basics: what exactly do we mean by “solitude”? I think it’s important to distinguish between solitude and loneliness. Solitude is the state of being alone—physically by yourself—but not necessarily feeling lonely. In fact, solitude can be a deeply fulfilling, recharging experience. Loneliness, on the other hand, is that aching sense of being disconnected or isolated, even if you’re surrounded by people. Here’s a relatable example: have you ever been to a busy party where you felt like you didn’t quite fit in? Maybe you were surrounded by conversations but felt invisible. That’s loneliness. Contrast that with sitting in a quiet park, reading a book, and just feeling utterly content. That’s solitude. Same aloneness, totally different experience. And get this: according to a 2019 Pew Research Center study, about one in five Americans report feeling lonely or socially isolated. But interestingly, in other countries—think Japan or Finland—spending time alone is often seen as a healthy, even desirable part of life. So, what gives? Why do we sometimes fear solitude, while in other contexts it’s actually cherished? Let’s turn first to the philosophy of solitude. If you look back through history, some of the world’s greatest thinkers, writers, and artists have lauded the benefits of being alone. The philosopher Henry David Thoreau famously retreated to Walden Pond for two years to “live deliberately.” He wrote, “I never found a companion that was so companionable as solitude.” And he isn’t alone—pun intended—in that view. Philosophers from the Stoics of ancient Greece to modern existentialists have argued that spending time alone helps us clarify our thoughts, discover our values, and connect more deeply with ourselves. It’s in solitude, they say, that we find the space to ask life’s big questions without the noise of society’s expectations. Friedrich Nietzsche, for example, wrote, “The great man is he who, in the midst of the crowd, keeps with perfect sweetness the independence of solitude.” There’s a kind of creative and philosophical power that only emerges when we step away from the crowd. But let’s look at the science—because you know I love a good study. Psychologists have found that solitude can actually boost creativity, improve concentration, and increase our sense of autonomy. A 2017 study published in the journal “Personality and Social Psychology Bulletin” found that people who spent regular, intentional time alone reported higher levels of emotional self-regulation and satisfaction with life. The key, researchers say, is that the solitude is chosen, not forced. Here’s a little personal anecdote—when I was in university, I spent a semester studying abroad in a small city in northern Italy. I didn’t know a soul when I arrived. At first, the alone time was uncomfortable. I missed my friends and the familiar rhythms of home. But slowly, I started to relish those quiet afternoons exploring cobblestone streets or sitting in a café with my journal. I learned more about myself in those few months than I had in years of constant company. That experience taught me that solitude isn’t about escaping people, but about meeting yourself more fully. Culturally, the meaning of solitude varies widely. In many Western societies, the extrovert ideal is alive and well—we’re encouraged to be social, outgoing, and always “on.” But in other cultures, solitude is revered. In Japan, the concept of “kū” or emptiness is seen as a place of potential, not lack. Finnish people even have a word—“yksinoloaika”—which literally means “time spent alone,” and it’s considered essential for well-being. Now, I want to share an academic study that I think really brings home the value of solitude, especially in our hyperconnected age. In 2014, researchers at the University of Virginia ran a fascinating experiment. They put participants in a room alone for 6 to 15 minutes with nothing to do—no phones, no books, just their thoughts. Many people found it so uncomfortable that some chose to administer themselves a mild electric shock rather than sit in silence. Isn’t that wild? But here’s the kicker: those who leaned into the experience, rather than fighting it, reported a greater sense of calm and clarity after. The study’s authors concluded that our discomfort with solitude says more about our habits than about the actual experience. So, what’s going on here psychologically? Part of it is that we’re just not used to being alone with our thoughts. Our brains are wired for stimulation and distraction—think about how quickly you reach for your phone when you have a spare minute. But there’s a growing body of research suggesting that learning to be alone is a skill, and like any skill, it gets easier and more rewarding with practice. But let’s be real—solitude isn’t always easy or automatically pleasant. For people dealing with depression or anxiety, alone time can sometimes amplify negative thoughts. That’s why it’s important to approach solitude intentionally, and to check in with yourself honestly about what you need in any given moment. If you’re struggling, don’t hesitate to reach out for support. Solitude should be a choice, not a sentence. Okay, so let’s get practical. How can you start to embrace solitude and find value in being alone, even if it feels a little awkward at first? Here are a few actionable tips: First, schedule small pockets of alone time into your day. This doesn’t have to mean a weekend in the woods—start with 10 or 15 minutes of quiet, uninterrupted time. Leave your phone in another room. You might sit with a cup of tea, take a walk, or just let your mind wander. Second, reframe your thoughts about being alone. Instead of seeing it as a lack—missing out, being left out—try to see solitude as a gift you give yourself. An opportunity to tune in, reset, and recharge. Third, experiment with creative activities that you can do solo. Journaling, drawing, cooking, gardening—these are all ways to enjoy your own company and tap into your inner world. Fourth, use solitude as a time for reflection. Ask yourself questions you don’t usually have time for. What do I value? What brings me joy? What do I want out of the next chapter of my life? Sometimes, the answers surprise us. And finally—remember that everyone’s relationship with solitude is different. Some people thrive on lots of alone time, others need just a little. It’s not about meeting some ideal, but about finding what works for you. As we wrap up today’s episode, I want to leave you with a thought: Solitude isn’t about being apart from the world, but about coming home to yourself. When we make space for our own thoughts, feelings, and dreams, we’re better able to show up in our relationships, our work, and our communities. In other words, solitude doesn’t separate us—it prepares us to connect more deeply. So, next time you find yourself alone, try to embrace it. Listen for the quiet voice inside. You might just find that, in solitude, you’re never truly alone—you’re in very good company. Thank you so much for joining me on IntelligentPod. If you enjoyed today’s episode, I’d love it if you could leave a review—your feedback truly makes a difference and helps others find the show. For show notes and more resources, head over to intelligentpod.com. And if you have thoughts, stories, or questions about solitude—or anything else we talk about here—email me anytime at sophie@intelligentpod.com. I love hearing from listeners. Until next time, I’m Sophie Lane. Take care of yourself—and don’t be afraid to enjoy a little solitude along the way.