The first story I ever wrote – aged eight years – was about a man who lived alone in a cave in the forest and talked to the animals. The short-story is lost but I still have the wooden statue of a monk my parents gave me that same year and which I have always called Saint Bariles.
The call of solitude has always remained very strong with me, though I have yet to become a hermit. However as a writer and when sailing there’s plenty of time alone in which to reflect and to be centred. Solitude is a wonderfully liberating time for me. A weight seems to lift from my shoulders and I settle into a calm, joyful contentment. And this is not just that I can do exactly as I please (not often true on the boat where the weather and waves rule). Even when I’m able to focus on a task, if there’s someone else present (however silent and unobtrusive) I feel a slight strain.
This does not mean I’m anti-social; but however much I enjoy friends and family, after a couple of days being with other people I’m completely exhausted. Solitude restores my energy and contentment. Then I can go out into the world again. Solitude – and especially the deep solitude of hermits – is a subject that deeply fascinates me, so I’ll be posting whatever I can find that seems interesting and relevant.
Please check under SOLITUDE in categories or under TAGS for more posts on:
Hermits
Retreats
Silence
Solitude
Dennison,
I see that this post is old, but it is also timeless. By now you know you are not alone in your ‘nature’ and reaction to ‘society’. The exhaustion is one thing in which I totally understand. As much as I would like to be a hermit, that is impossible as a reality that I have come to live with. Even with my wife & children, who I love dearly and must give myself to, I feel the liberation of some time alone. I just recently discovered you site while searching ‘hermits’ and will enjoy your reseaches and sources.
Thank You for your efforts!