A great deal has been written in the past two years about how the pandemic, and especially the isolation it has demanded, has damaged the mental health of so many people. Forced to separate from others for long periods and to suspend many of the social rituals on which we depended previously, many have suffered greatly, not just from loneliness, but from depression and anxiety. Being alone is deeply troubling for many, and enforced solitude for long periods for those unprepared for it has led to sickness.

In the midst of this comes The Art of Solitude by Stephen Batchelor, a book the publisher calls a literary collage. The author, previously unknown to me, is a celebrated scholar of Buddhism and a former monk, someone who has sought the experience of being alone, learned from others who loved solitude, and thought deeply about its value. Batchelor’s book isn’t some dry, impartial thesis on the history of hermits or one of those sickly self-help manuals promoting the benefits of a solitary life. The Art of Solitude is something much more interesting. It’s a short and engaging set of reflections and observations about the experience of being alone and what that experience can teach us about living a good life with ourselves as individuals and with others. For me the most enjoyable part of the book was the weaving together of Batchelor’s personal journey with the wisdom of others who have engaged deeply with solitude. it’s an eclectic and fascinating bunch: Michel de Montaigne, the Buddha, Aldous Huxley, Agnes Martin, Vermeer, and more.

Some parts of Batchelor’s experience might alienate some readers. I’m thinking particularly of his exploration of the use of psychotropic drugs. No matter. He isn’t trying to convince or convert anyone and he’s certainly no crazy evangelist espousing one type of experience over another. The Art of Solitude is a sensitive, balanced, and nuanced account of one man’s personal experience of solitude and mindfulness. I learned a lot and can imagine returning to the book in the future.

It is easy in the world to live after the world’s opinion, it is easy in solitude to live after our own; but the great man/woman is he/she who in the midst of the crowd keeps with perfect sweetness the independence of solitude. (Emerson).