On Sunday morning the folks who “gathered” with me virtually for church considered the two sides of worship: corporate worship and solitary worship. Among other things, we talked about the opportunity the pandemic gives us to slow down and spend time with Spirit in solitary worship. Last week in Thriving in Exile we also looked at The Answer to Cabin Fever as a way of changing the experience of enforced solitude.
The reality for a lot of us, though, is that in the midst of social isolation we have less solitude than usual. We interact with fewer people, but we no longer have those pockets of alone time most of us experience at least a couple of times a day, because a few other people share our same space 24/7.
I have often referred to my car as my rolling chapel. For 22 of the 28 years I have worked at my college I commuted every day 45 minutes one way to our primary campus. Five or six years ago I moved to one of our smaller campuses only a 15-minute drive away because of my daughter’s (and my wife’s) health. I value not only saving the gasoline but also the five hours of time saved each week.
Still, I miss having that time for solitary thought. Sometimes I listened to podcasts. Other times I prayed or just enjoyed the silence.
Even after moving closer, I find much of my day consisted of solitary work—grading, answering emails, writing. My office door is open to any student who comes by (or it was until the virus shut us down), and I enjoy being able to connect with colleagues on the hallway (miss you guys!), but I could go for hours without interaction, and any time I have needed a few minutes for meditation I could close the office door. The virus changed all that.
I actually value having the time at home, and my family gives me space and time to work, but it isn’t the same. I don’t begrudge responding to family needs, but interruptions come multiple times a day. It’s also not fair to the family, because the boundary between work and home has blurred. It takes me longer to get my work done, partly because of the online thing and partly because of the number of times I have to reset to whatever I was working on. But then they don’t get 100 percent of my attention either, and I don’t get my recharge time.
Ironically, in the time of social isolation, solitude may be harder to come by. As we have established before, you need to connect with other people, and you also need time alone. But I think most people have worried more about overcoming the lack of connection than the lack of solitude.
Give some thought to how you will address both. Here is what I’m trying to do to take care of my own needs for solitude:
Usually I wake up before anyone else does. That provides time to wake up slowly and engage some of the following.
I’m spending a little time with the Bible each day. It’s important to me to spend it on something just for me, not related to whatever I will be doing for church later.
Then I spend a little time in focused prayer.
Later in the day when I need a break, I use the Insight Meditation app as a timer for just five minutes or so of breath meditation or focusing on the Jesus Prayer. At that time of day, if I go for much more than five minutes I fall asleep.
I do most of the kitchen work. When I’m cooking or cleaning I try to be mindful of each step, the textures and fragrances and tastes of the food I’m working with, the rhythm of washing dishes.
Because of having to integrate home stuff with work stuff, coupled with the fact that online teaching takes more time than face-to-face teaching, it often takes me 12 hours to do eight hours of work. I could easily work 24 hours a day between the demands of the house and the demands of my professional work. But I’ve been short of sleep for years, and so I’ve been trying to make sure I get at least eight hours of sleep a day before starting all over again tomorrow.
I don’t keep to this perfectly, and it will all shift again when the semester ends. My poor wife gets way more solitude than she wants because of my work responsibilities. But I think simply having the target makes it more likely that I will get the solitude I need, and my work tends to bring me as much social connection as is possible in the current pandemic.
May you get the community that you need and the solitude that you need. May we all navigate this challenging time with grace and wisdom.
Peace.