Short Story ◉ Philosophy

Philosophy of Affirming Solitude

Watching Mio who prefers being alone, Haru and Simon reconsider the meaning of solitude.

  • #solitude
  • #independence
  • #self
  • #introspection
  • #existence

"I wonder if Mio gets lonely."

Haru murmured while watching Mio sitting alone by the window.

"Loneliness and solitude are different," Simon answered.

"How are they different?"

"Loneliness is emotion lamenting others' absence. Solitude is the state of being alone. Not necessarily negative."

Mio glanced their way for a moment, then returned to her book.

"But aren't humans social creatures?" Haru asked.

"Perhaps because we're social, solitude is necessary."

"That's paradoxical."

Simon explained. "Aristotle said 'one who lives without friendship is either beast or god.'"

"So solitude is denied?"

"But the same Aristotle also valued contemplative life."

"Contemplative life?"

"Thinking alone. The highest happiness lies in solitary thought."

Haru pondered. "Isn't that contradictory?"

"It is. But humans need both."

Mio stood up and came before them. She showed them her notebook.

"Alone and solitude are different."

Haru read. "Different?"

Mio nodded and wrote again. "Alone is choice, solitude is state."

Simon understood. "Chosen solitude versus imposed solitude."

"Mio is choosing?" Haru asked.

Mio nodded.

"Why?"

Mio thought briefly before writing. "Too much noise."

"Noise?"

"Others' expectations, society's demands, voices that aren't mine."

Simon said quietly. "Heidegger's 'das Man.' The anonymous subject called society."

"Being swept along?"

"Yes. You can't hear your own voice. That's why solitude is needed."

Haru began to understand. "In solitude, you reclaim yourself."

"Dialogue with authentic self," Simon nodded.

Mio wrote again. "Solitude is luxury."

"Luxury?" Haru was surprised.

"In modern society, we're constantly connected. Being alone is difficult."

Simon supplemented. "Smartphones, SNS. Always under others' gaze."

"So solitude becomes a conscious choice."

Mio smiled. A rare occurrence.

Haru asked. "But isn't too much solitude dangerous?"

"There are dangers," Simon acknowledged. "Nietzsche approached madness in his solitude."

"Balance?"

"Yes. Balance between solitude and connection."

Mio wrote again. "Solitude is rest, connection is activity."

"Rhythm?" Haru understood.

Mio nodded.

"Like breathing. Inhale, exhale."

Simon said quietly. "In Zen thought, solitary sitting is valued."

"Solitary sitting?"

"Sitting alone. Letting go of even thoughts, just being."

"For what purpose?"

"No purpose. Just savoring existence itself."

Haru took a deep breath. "Mio practices that."

"Without words, she lives deep philosophy."

Mio stood up and returned to the window. She looked up at the sky.

"What is she thinking now?" Haru murmured.

"She might not be thinking," Simon said.

"Not thinking?"

"Just being. Pascal said, 'All of humanity's problems stem from man's inability to sit quietly in a room alone.'"

"By constantly moving, we escape from ourselves?"

"Yes. Afraid of solitude, we fill it with busyness."

Haru said quietly. "Mio doesn't fear solitude."

"Not only unafraid, she affirms it."

"Philosophy of affirmation."

Simon organized. "Solitude isn't lack but fullness. Not emptiness but richness."

"But does that apply to everyone?"

"It doesn't. Different people need different amounts of solitude."

Mio turned around and waved slightly. Then left the room.

"She left," Haru said somewhat sadly.

"She needs her time," Simon said.

"It's not rejection?"

"No. She just has boundaries."

Haru thought. "Affirming solitude isn't rejecting others."

"Exactly. Rather, it's necessary for healthy relationships."

"Fill yourself first, then connect with others."

"Yes. With an empty self, you can't create real connections."

Haru sat by the window. "I might need some solitude too."

"You should try it," Simon smiled.

"Isn't it scary?"

"Scary at first. But once you get used to it, it's comfortable."

"Like Mio?"

"Everyone has their own form of solitude. Not imitating Mio, but finding your own solitude."

Haru sat quietly. Simon also fell silent.

Silence descended on the room. Not solitude, but quiet togetherness.

"Affirming solitude," Haru murmured. "That's affirming yourself."

Simon nodded. "And respecting others' solitude too."

They sat quietly. Solitude and connection coexisted peacefully.