Solitude vs. Loneliness: Lessons from My Awakening

For most of my life, I was terrified of being alone.

No matter what external success I achieved—building cityHUNT into a thriving business, acquiring properties and possessions, maintaining a busy social calendar—the prospect of spending time with just myself filled me with dread.

Being alone meant facing myself, and that was something I actively avoided. My happiness came from making others happy, often at my own expense.

The Invincible Warrior

I built my identity around being the “invincible fun warrior”—always on, always performing, never showing vulnerability. I embraced the “crush it” mentality: no sleep, push through pain, never show weakness.

This fear of solitude shaped almost every aspect of my life. My relationships drifted toward codependency, with my self-worth tied to what I could do for others.

My business reflected this same pattern—I excelled at creating connections between others but hadn’t learned to connect with myself.

The Unexpected Catalyst

Everything changed in 2019. What I now describe as my “awakening” began with a complete misunderstanding.

I thought I was heading to a luxury resort in Costa Rica with a friend for a typical vacation.

Instead, I found myself at a transformative yoga and meditation festival in the jungle with nothing but a swimsuit, a hammock, and no phone.

That weekend of complete disorientation became the catalyst for transformation. Without my usual distractions and comforts, I was forced to be present in a way I’d never experienced.

This unexpected detour pushed me to seek out teachers in India, spend time with indigenous communities in Ecuador, and begin exploring yoga, meditation, and shamanic practices that were completely foreign to my previous life.

Then COVID-19 hit, and like many people, I found myself in isolation. My situation was particularly challenging—I was going through a divorce, and suddenly it was just me and my dog on a farm outside Atlanta.

I was separated from my children and faced with the very thing I had always feared: extended time alone with myself.

Learning to Be With Myself

During those months of isolation, I leaned into the practices I’d begun exploring after my awakening in Costa Rica.

I deepened my meditation practice, tackled Kundalini yoga challenges, and spent hours walking the 2,000 acres surrounding my home in the Serenbe community.

Gradually, something remarkable happened. I began to discover a fundamental distinction that had eluded me my entire life: the difference between loneliness and solitude.

Loneliness, I came to understand, is a painful state of feeling disconnected or isolated, even when physically surrounded by others.

It’s characterized by a sense of lacking, of something missing. I had experienced plenty of loneliness throughout my life, often in the midst of crowded rooms or even within relationships.

Solitude, by contrast, is something entirely different. It’s a chosen state of being alone where you’re connected with yourself rather than feeling isolated.

In solitude, there’s a sense of completeness, of being sufficient unto yourself. There’s peace in the quiet moments, joy in simply being rather than constantly doing.

In my previous life, I never allowed myself to experience solitude because I was so terrified of loneliness. I filled every moment with activity, people, noise—anything to avoid facing myself.

But during those months of COVID isolation, I had no choice but to sit with myself, to be quiet, to experience true solitude, perhaps for the first time.

Practices That Transformed My Relationship with Being Alone

Several key practices helped me transform my fear of being alone into an appreciation for solitude:

Deep Meditation: Unlike my previous experience with performance-based meditation (the kind focused on manifesting wealth or success), I began practicing meditation simply as a way of being present with myself.

I learned to observe my thoughts without judgment and find peace in the spaces between them. This wasn’t about achieving anything; it was about being fully present with whatever arose.

Nature Immersion: Living on 2,000 acres at Serenbe gave me ample opportunity to connect with the natural world. I began taking all my calls while walking in the woods, feeling the earth beneath my feet, hearing birdsong, watching seasonal changes unfold.

Nature became both teacher and companion, showing me that I was part of something larger than my individual concerns.

Men’s Work: I became involved with men’s groups, both as a participant and eventually as a facilitator. These groups provided a safe space for emotional vulnerability—something completely foreign to my previous “crush it” mentality.

I learned that showing vulnerability isn’t weakness; it’s courage and authenticity. These connections helped me develop a new relationship with my emotions and with other men.

Physical Practices: Yoga, particularly Kundalini yoga, helped me reconnect with my body after years of neglect. I lost 50 pounds not through dieting, but through a complete shift in how I related to my body.

My eating habits changed naturally as I became more present and attuned to my physical needs.

The Paradox of Connection Through Solitude

As I embraced these practices, something remarkable happened: the loneliness I had feared my entire life began to transform.

I still experienced moments of feeling lonely, especially being separated from my children during COVID-19, but those feelings no longer defined me or drove my actions.

I discovered that authentic connection with others begins with being connected to oneself. When I was running from myself, my relationships were based on performance and need—what I could do for others, what they could do for me.

As I learned to be comfortable in my own presence, my connections with others became more genuine, more satisfying, and paradoxically, more intimate.

This led to a profound insight: you can feel deeply connected and at peace even when physically alone. Conversely, you can feel desperately lonely in a crowd or relationship if you’re disconnected from yourself.

True connection isn’t about proximity or even shared experiences; it’s about presence—being fully available to yourself and others.

Bringing Solitude into Business

This understanding of solitude versus loneliness hasn’t just changed my personal life; it’s transformed how I approach business.

For years, I built cityHUNT on creating connections between people—and that remains important. But now I understand that meaningful connections between people start with each person’s connection to themselves.

Today, as cityHUNT partners with Highland Yoga to launch a corporate wellness program, we’re incorporating practices that help people connect with themselves first: breath work, journaling prompts, and yoga.

These inner practices provide the foundation for the team-building activities that follow. The result is deeper, more authentic engagement among participants.

I’ve also committed to making these practices accessible to everyone through The Warrior Sanctuary, a nonprofit I helped found that creates sliding-scale and donation-based opportunities for yoga, meditation, sound baths, and other ancient wisdom practices.

We’re democratizing access to the very tools that helped me transform my own relationship with solitude.

Solitude in a Hyper-Connected World

This message about the value of solitude feels particularly important in our current moment. We live in a culture that often equates being alone with being lonely and values constant connection through technology.

Social media platforms are designed to keep us externally focused and perpetually engaged, rarely encouraging the inner connection that true solitude offers.

For many people, the pandemic forced an uncomfortable confrontation with solitude.

Without the usual distractions of social gatherings, travel, and workplace interactions, many found themselves alone with their thoughts for the first time—and it was terrifying.

I understand that terror intimately; it defined much of my life.

But I’ve also discovered the treasure on the other side of that fear.

Learning to be comfortable in your own presence isn’t just about surviving alone time; it’s about discovering an inexhaustible source of peace and fulfillment that doesn’t depend on external circumstances or other people’s approval.

An Ongoing Practice

Becoming comfortable with solitude isn’t a destination I’ve reached once and for all. It’s an ongoing practice, a skill I continue to develop.

There are still days when old patterns emerge—when I seek external validation or avoid quiet moments. The difference now is that I recognize these patterns and have tools for returning to center.

I’ve learned that solitude should be cultivated and cherished, not feared and avoided. In the quiet moments of being alone with myself, I find clarity, creativity, and a deep sense of peace I never knew was possible.

From this grounded place, I can engage with others not from need or habit, but from fullness and choice.

Conclusion

The “Scavenger Hunt for the Soul”, as I call it in my upcoming book, always leads back to this essential truth: the secret isn’t out there in achievement, accumulation, or external validation.

The secret lies inside, waiting to be discovered through practices that have sustained humans for thousands of years. And from that place of inner connection, we’re never truly alone.