The Sanskrit term for solitude is ekānta. It is the hallmark of a person who has turned inward – their love for solitude. An unmistakable sign of a restless mind is its inability to embrace solitude. For the quiet mind nothing is as profound as solitude and for the restless, nothing is more terrifying.
There are only two types of people who are comfortable in solitude: the lazy and the yogi. The former lacks awareness while the latter radiates with it.
By solitude, I do not mean that you live in a remote place but have access to TV, books, internet and the rest of it. By solitude, I mean that you are just by yourself. You in your own company.
The only person you have to talk to you is you, the only person you have to listen to is you, the only person around is you. The only object of engagement for your mind is you. When you are bored, you go back to yourself and when you are happy, you share it with yourself. During the practice of solitude, you do not even see others, let alone meet them or talk to them. The only person you get to see is you.
Krishna says in Bhagavad Gita,
Ātmanayēvātmanātuṣṭaḥstithprajñastaducaytē 64
The one who dwells within and is contented within is indeed a yogi. The seeker who has turned inward finds greatest bliss in solitude. In such a state, he can uninterruptedly enjoy the bliss within.
If you are in solitude and have engaged your mind in reading, writing or other similar activities, that is still solitude. It is not the finest type though, it is more like pseudo solitude. The ultimate solitude is when you are aware of each passing moment, you are not dull and you are not sleepy, you are awake and alert, and, at that, you do not feel restless; you do not feel the urge to always do “something”. You are at peace within. When you are face-to- face with your own mind, sharply looking at it directly, you are in solitude. A yogi who has mastered the art of living in solitude, without fail, will always be in solitude even amidst the greatest crowd. His quietude remains unaffected by the noise outside. His inner world stays insulated from the outer one.
In solitude, after initial periods of restlessness and stupor, bliss starts to flow through your very being. Everything becomes still. Your mind, senses, body, surroundings, flowing river, waterfalls – absolutely everything becomes still. Anahatnada, unstruck sound and beautiful other sounds start to manifest themselves. However, they can cause a deviation. A good meditator continues to stay disciplined and focused. Living in solitude requires great discipline. With self-discipline, you can achieve just about anything you can imagine. Disciplined living in solitude is tapas, an austerity, in its own right. It is the quickest way of self-cleansing.
Patanjali states in his aphorisms,
Kāyēndriyasid’dhiḥaśud’dhikṣyātatapasaḥ,65
Self-discipline burns away all afflictions and impurities.
This has been my personal experience as well. Solitude teaches you without preaching.
Yogic and tantric texts lay great emphasis on acquiring the ability and stillness to live in solitude. The great Tibetan Yogi Jetsun Milarepa devoted his whole life carrying out the instructions of his guru by meditating in terrifying solitude on forbidden peaks. He was once invited by his female disciples to their village for preaching. Their argument predominantly being that Milarepa’s presence and grace, with his vast store of tapas, would help the humanity, especially if he could be among and around them in cities and villages. Milarepa, however, committed to the practice of meditation, replied, “Practicing meditation in solitude is, in itself, a service to the people. Although my mind no longer changes, it is still a good tradition for a great yogi to remain in solitude.”66
How to Do It Right
The practice of solitude, naturally, incorporates the practice of observing silence as well. You can start your stint of solitude, by opting for short periods first with a minimum stretch of 24 hours. For towners, it is extremely hard to find solitude. To begin with, you can find yourself a quiet room and lock yourself in it for a day or so. Take frugal provisions with you. Your room should ideally have an attached washroom. Please be aware that this is beginner’s level. Gradually and steadily, the intensity of solitude is increased by practising it in truly isolated places and secluded spots. My own experience says that as you progress, Nature arranges everything for you, including the spots for such meditation.
Please see the chart below.
During your practice of solitude, having any company or coming face-to-face with anyone is an instant failure. That nullifies your practice of solitude. You need to start again. The same goes for interactions, watching TV and web surfing. The practice of solitude is even stricter than the practice of observing silence.
The only discount you have is the allowance to read something. Although that too affects your solitude but it is still acceptable.
The goal is to learn to have your mind free of all engagements. A free mind is the only true freedom anyone can ever have.
Tyaga – Letting Go
In a monastery once, a master was preaching forgiveness. A few disciples argued that while letting go was the finest act, it was hard. They wondered what the harm in holding onto certain feelings was, especially if it did not hinder their meditation. The master listened patiently. He asked them to take a handful of potatoes, engrave the initials of the person they could not or did not want to forgive; one potato per person. He further instructed them to put their potatoes in a bag, bring them to the class and take them back to their quarters every day.
The disciples followed the instructions and everyone carried a bag the next day. Some were carrying bags bigger than others. A week went by, the monks felt ludicrous carrying their sacks around. The potatoes started to rot and stink. They asked their master for how long were they supposed to do the exercise. They complained that it was becoming unbearable to put up with the stench and unnecessary weight.
“So, what have you learned?” the master asked.
“Potatoes are our negative emotions. Holding onto them is carrying burden and stench,” they replied.
“Exactly. But, can you carry potatoes without the bag?” the sage spoke. “If potatoes are your negative feelings, what is the bag?”
Pin drop silence ensued. It happens at the dawning of wisdom. They understood the bag was their mind.
It’s incredible how much garbage we keep within us as if we are attached to the stench of our rotten potatoes. No one I know wants to be unhappy. They want to let go and move on but find it extremely difficult to do so. This is where the practice of letting go comes handy. If you consciously train your mind to let go, you can use this skill to drop any emotion.
We all have our attachments and they are the root cause of most of our disappointments. We may like to believe that we remain unaffected or that our love is pure, devoid of attachments to people or things. The truth is, your degree of detachment can only be ascertained once you are removed from the object of your attachment.
There is a specific yogic practice to help you in cultivating the art of letting go.
The word is tyāga in Sanskrit. It means to let go, to give up, to renounce, to detach, to set (yourself) free from the attachment to the object. The practice of tyaga is a powerful one and the effect is profound. It is capable of igniting a radical transformation in you.
Detachment or letting go is not an automatic act. A fair bit of groundwork is required before one can acquire such state of dispassion and abandon where it comes naturally to them. A fitting question here is, “What is that groundwork?” The practice of tyaga is the groundwork.