Solitude doesn’t exactly have the best reputation. Most of the time, just mentioning it is enough for people to assume something bad is happening. And honestly, in many cases, maybe that’s true. There’s a worrying epidemic of loneliness these days, especially with how individualistic people have become and how little empathy exists between human beings now. Still, this time, I decided to do something I once read in a book by Hermann Hesse: “Walk a path near the end of the afternoon completely alone, and by the time you finish, you’ll feel fulfilled and deeply connected with yourself.”
Anyone who has read Hesse knows he was never some generic self help writer full of empty motivational nonsense. In fact, I decided to follow his advice precisely because I felt identified with it. During the past month, I had been trapped between Christmas shopping, exhausting end of year work responsibilities, and my duties as a mother. I started feeling like I was slowly losing myself somewhere in the middle of all that noise. Like I hadn’t had a single second to simply exist for myself. And that feeling can become overwhelming. It’s strange when you realize something inside you feels off, but you can’t fully explain what it is or where exactly the fracture began.
So I decided to take a long walk. From one side of my city to the other, crossing almost the entire extension of San Diego, Venezuela. I wanted to get as far away from home as possible. It felt necessary somehow. I hate monotony, and I’m the kind of person who constantly needs to break patterns before routine starts feeling suffocating. Wednesday afternoon, January 1st, 2025. The city was unusually empty, almost ghostlike after the New Year celebrations. Exactly what I needed. To my surprise, public transportation was working normally, so I started my little journey without any trouble.
I made my way toward an area full of trees, walking paths, and dry autumn leaves scattered across the pavement. The moment I started walking, I noticed how different the atmosphere felt there. Fresh air, slightly cold weather, and a breeze strong enough to constantly remind you it existed. I had thought about making a playlist and listening to music while walking in silence, but for some reason, I abandoned the idea at the last minute. It was just me, my footsteps, and my mind trying to reconnect with itself. I walked for several kilometers. I honestly don’t know how many. I only stopped when I found an abandoned playground.
That place, built for children to laugh and play, had clearly seen better years. Now it looked like the remains of another time entirely. And yet, under the colors of a January sunset, it looked beautifully chaotic. That’s where I stopped walking. I simply couldn’t ignore the way the sunlight filtered through the horizon. The photographs I took don’t even come close to capturing what it actually looked like. I think my walk lasted a little over three hours. I left home around 4 PM and somehow returned close to 7 PM without even realizing it. I never checked my phone. Not once. No notifications, no conversations, no need to connect with anyone. I was simply immersed in my own solitude. That kind of solitude people fear so much, even though sometimes it isn’t negative at all. Sometimes it’s necessary. Sometimes it’s exactly what the mind needs.