Say the word "solitude" and it often carries a lonely ring. In an age when connection is made visible through social media, spending time alone tends to be read as a bad sign — as if you have no friends, or don't quite fit in.
But I've always liked being alone. Time spent with others matters, of course, but the quiet time I spend alone — thinking, feeling, simply being — has always felt essential to staying grounded.
A book I read recently, The Brain at Rest by Joseph Jebelli, backs up this feeling with research.
Doing Nothing Puts the Brain to Work
When we drift, doing nothing in particular, a circuit in the brain called the Default Mode Network (DMN) switches on. Activating the DMN is linked to sharper intelligence, greater creativity, and higher productivity.
And the key that turns the DMN on is, of all things, solitude. Yet solitude keeps getting pushed aside. Modern life fixates on the benefits of social connection, and social media has woven itself so deeply into daily routines that alone time now gets treated as worthless — something to avoid rather than seek out.
The Great Thinkers Respected Solitude
Great thinkers, Thoreau among them, held solitude in high regard. Stepping away from society's noise, they found, let them see themselves more clearly. One researcher calls this moment "becoming present" — a sign, in neurological terms, that the DMN has begun to fire.
Writing, playing the piano — creative work like this often goes better alone. In that solitary time, the brain forms new synapses, sharpens skill, and nurtures creativity more effectively than it could in company.
Why I Ride Alone
I love heading out on my motorcycle by myself. I do go touring with friends now and then, but most of the time, I choose to ride solo.
The reason is simple: it's both "time alone" and a chance to fully immerse myself in the act of riding itself.
The sound of the engine, the resistance of the wind, shifting your weight through a curve — riding a bike demands constant attention to this moment, right now. You can ride while talking with someone, but doing so inevitably dilutes that sense of immersion.
It's precisely when I'm riding alone that the noise in my head falls away, leaving only the scenery in front of me and the sensations in my body. That, I suspect, is exactly the kind of brain-rest that solitude — the subject of this whole post — provides. Riding along in a half-daze, my mind ends up sorting itself out, quietly, almost without my noticing.
Touring with friends is fun too. But time spent riding solo is irreplaceable — it's time spent facing myself.
If Being Alone Feels Like a Bad Thing
If being by yourself carries a quiet sting of guilt or loneliness, you're far from alone in that. Many people have absorbed the idea that solitude is something negative.
But it's worth trying to see it differently.
In the Netherlands, there's a relaxation practice called niksen — sitting on a bench and watching people go by, or simply lingering in a café with nothing to do. Building this kind of "doing nothing" into daily life has been used as a way to manage stress and even depression.
There's also "mindful solitude" — sitting somewhere quiet and breathing, setting aside the same time each day to be alone, powering down your devices for that stretch. Small habits like these give the brain rest, and help restore creativity and the capacity to solve problems.
In Closing
Solitude might not be something to avoid at all — it might be an asset worth using wisely. Time spent with no one to compare yourself to, no one to accommodate, just facing yourself. That's not a sign of weakness. If anything, it's what makes you sharper and stronger.
The next time you notice you're alone, try reframing it — not as loneliness, but as the brain recovering, and creativity quietly taking root.
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