For a long time, I had been chasing the idea of ‘solitude’. I was trying to understand it, practice it, inhabit it, and yet I could never truly grasp it. Early on, I began writing as a method of inquiry, as a way to pursue questions whose answers I could not find elsewhere. In that process, I became both the disciple asking questions and the master answering them. But the meaning of solitude remained elusive.
I read authors and philosophers who praised solitude and presented it as an essential condition of writing and of all artistic work. But what none of them explained was how to embrace it, or for how long. Was solitude a temporary withdrawal or a lifelong pursuit? Did it mean renouncing all human contact, or only certain forms of it?
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