21 nourishing ways to spend time solo

For aloneness, inner friendship and solitude as a creative act.

Dec 04, 2024

Each one of us is alone in the world. It takes great courage to meet the full force of your aloneness. Most of the activity in society is subconsciously designed to quell the voice crying in the wilderness within you.
— John O’Donohue

I have been rocking up to things by myself since before it was invented.

I do my restore and repair alone.

Sometimes I have the most perfect day when it is just me.

I do not deny that other humans make things FUN. I love people. We need each other.

One of the best things in the world has got to be natural, easy friendship. A great untold joy of adult life (apart from starting and finishing a book on the same day) is, as Nora Ephron wrote in her list of things she will miss before she dies, ‘Dinner with friends in cities where none of us lives’. I second that.

We can feel infinite in the company of others.

However, you should have this kind of inner richness with yourself too. Read that twice. That’s where solitude comes in.

We are rarely encouraged to be alone and happy.

And we are not taught how to feel contented by ourselves.

Aloneness is a positive state where you feel whole in your own company.

Loneliness is the opposite, you feel a lack and the absence of the other — a friend, a beloved, a parent, a community. A feeling that something is missing.

I know what it feels like to be punched in the stomach by loneliness. And my longings do not remain unspoken.

However, when you begin to experience beautiful aloneness (a way of being I’ve written about previously), this immense fullness comes to meet you. I call it ‘inner friendship’ and you feel that life is overflowing in your presence.

Ordinarily, I go to the woods alone,
with not a single friend, for they are all smilers and talkers
and therefore unsuitable.

I don’t really want to be witnessed talking to the catbirds
or hugging the old black oak tree.
I have my way of praying, as you no doubt have yours.

Besides, when I am alone I can become invisible.
I can sit on the top of a dune as motionless as an uprise of weeds,
until the foxes run by unconcerned.
I can hear the almost unhearable sound of the roses singing.

If you have ever gone to the woods with me,
I must love you very much.

— Mary Oliver

Solitude is one of my food groups — it gives me nourishment.

When I’m busy and exhausted, I feel important but deflated.

I fantasise about time alone. I look ahead on my calendar and try to carve out time with no one around.

Recently, I took a Thursday off and had a day of cosmic rest.

I slept in with no alarm, took my tea practice outdoors to a woodland park, had a ceremony by a fallen Outlander-esque tree and a sensuous nap in the sun, and then rode my bike to an arthouse cinema for my favourite thing ever — an afternoon film. For me, this is PURE DECADENCE. I also didn’t use my laptop or go on a single app the whole day which I think is what sealed the deal for the best day ever.

As you rest in the house of your own heart,
doors and windows begin to open outwards to the world.

— John O’Donohue

I honestly felt like my whole being had been recharged by the simple act of being with myself all day. However, I know this is not easy for everyone.

We must ease into our aloneness.

As David Whyte writes, ‘Being alone is a difficult discipline’. Ultimately, we all belong to ourselves. It can take some practice to get there.

Whether you’re in a new city, a new relationship status, or are new to being by yourself — I will show you how.

Here are 21 nourishing ways to spend time solo:

Matinee movie — You can trust me on this one. Going to the cinema by yourself in the daytime and on a weekday is LIVING. I recently watched a melancholy-drenched Scottish love story called Falling Into Place (highly recommend), scored a whole row to myself and smuggled in vegan hibiscus and blackberry jam ice cream with my flask of fresh peppermint tea. It’s so lovely to treat yourself to exactly what you want.
Music gigs — I’ve been going to live music shows alone for years. Either because I am travelling or don’t have the energy to ask around. As it gets closer I think, “Should I have invited someone?” and then when I go and everything works out amazing (front row seat for one at Fink, thank you), I am just prouder of myself. Chill, acoustic gigs are probably the best for entry-level solo gig-goers.
A class or workshop that none of your friends want to do — I’ve been wanting to learn to camp alone forever and that plan has not progressed. So I booked myself into a survivalist / rewilding course and it was one of the most satisfying days I’ve had in recent times. I learnt survival skills like starting a fire by friction, water purification and how to identify edible weeds, as well as bushcraft like making cordage (rope) from native reeds. Remarkably, I’m a natural at using a knife and saw to make tent poles. I am terrible at knots.

Fire by friction handmade tools and feet in dirt.

Solo holiday — Being a “solo traveller” is not as scary as it sounds. This magic thing happens when you travel alone and it’s called the Slipstream. It started for me one day in West Cork. I rented a car because I wanted to go to the Bantry Farmers Market and Gougane Barra National Park (for peak Irish moss) and there were zero buses. I ended up meeting two guys at an olive stand and they invited me to live with them and work on a permaculture farm in Clonakilty on the Wild Atlantic Way. Which later, I did. I also had one of the most ecosexual experiences of my life in the national park. After I told my friend Orlagh back in Cork City what had happened that day she said, “You’re in the Slipstream.” Term coined. The world has much to offer you and incredible kindness comes to those who travel alone.
Read without rushing — An ultimate indulgence is reading uninterrupted. Spending time with a really good book makes the hours feel less lonely. Try the library, a favourite cafe, a pillow under a shady tree, or your front porch. I love a cozy corner at a local pub, preferably a couch near a fireplace, where I can read a whole book which I did this winter with Rick Rubin’s The Creative Act.
Stay in a fancy place — Look, sometimes being away by yourself can suck, especially when accommodation (and prices) are geared towards romantic couples. I spent a month in Japan, feeling the most alone and the most alive I’ve been. To treat myself, I stayed at a Japanese ryokan in Nara. When I checked in, they couldn’t understand that I had booked alone. Apparently, no one else had done that before. Did I still want two breakfasts delivered to my room? (YES!). The staff still sent me postcards seven years on. In Western Australia, I did a solo ‘Think Week’ at an Unyoked off-grid cabin on the South West coast. I read under the stars, listened to a Tracy Chapman cassette tape on repeat, and cooked on an outdoor fire (pizza for the win) where I had the realisation: I don’t want to die tired. Modern life is exhausting, being alone is how we can fill up.
Self-pleasure — I’ve been doing a course called EMBODY with sexologist Juliet Allen and she said, “Your sensuality does not require a partner”. Very true. I was involved in a women’s circle for years learning about tantra and self-pleasure is a practice I’ve taken with me. It’s a way to have intimacy and connection with yourself regardless of your relationship status. It gives life force energy and grounds you into your body. Juliet is offering A Guide to Self-Pleasure (it’s free) and some great resources to get started plus Ronan on Dipsea is fire emoji ablaze — YOU ARE WELCOME.
Romance yourself — “Date yourself” advice is tiring. I already have to cook myself three meals a day and make sure I have clean towels and an income, I don’t want to date myself as well. However, I still romance myself. A favourite solitude ritual is to get dressed up, pack my basket with a good book and journal, and go on a solo dinner date. I always feel a joyful slowness when I’m eating alone. I sit at the bar (a table facing a window or the street is also good) and order oysters, then frites and grilled sardines and this incredible honey and thyme butter lettuce salad that I always try to recreate at home. I go for an early sitting when the staff are extra nice. Sometimes there’s live jazz playing. There is nothing tragic about eating alone. It’s mysterious and freeing.
Visit a sacred site — A stone circle, a holy well, a river, a graveyard. Bring an offering. Read the final words from other people. You will notice that no matter what anyone tries to do in their waking life, we all leave alone. It’s something we have to make peace with while we’re alive.

Tobernalt Holy Well in County Sligo and a very happy me.

Nature soaking — My answer for everything is ‘go to nature’. I think a huge part of loneliness is a lack of awe and wonder. Nature is the definition of beauty and reverence and peace. If in doubt, abandon your plans and go have a soak in nature. A hike, an ocean dip, or just lying on a rock in the sun.
Sit in a sauna — A great way to feel surrounded by people without having to socialise is to book into a silent sauna. Bodies sweating, dipping in the ocean in between, and back again. I always feel so good during and after this one.
Take a day and keep it to yourself — Life wants to be lived. If you’re exhausted it’s really hard to do life. Take a day off, and the secret is — don’t tell anyone. Keep it to yourself. If anyone asks, you are working or busy or get back to them the day after. It’s like buying time.
Commune with a plant — Plants are beings and simply sitting with them is how we get to know their medicine. I started a love affair with hawthorn in Ireland. I would visit a tree daily just to be with it. I learnt from an Irish shaman how to harvest for healing purposes and serve hawthorn in a heart opening ceremony. Being away from hawthorn now honestly feels like I’ve lost one of my best friends. I also started communing with mugwort over winter, and have a kinship with oak, gorse, elder and calendula at the moment. This has been life-changing.
Writing out quotes in a cafe — My favourite relaxation technique is as simple as it sounds. I go to a cafe that has good almond chai and write out quotes into my “quote journal” for a whole morning. It nourishes my soul and the quotes become a part of my psyche.

Witness the moon or a sunset or sunrise — A nice way to softly land into your solitude is to be with others (say at the beach) while being with yourself. I have an evening ritual of watching the sunset when I can, and it doesn’t have to take more than 20 minutes there and back. Just a quiet moment with myself, and I am especially drawn to do it on the dark and full moon. You can also always look out for the moon at home — just pop outside to have a few minutes by yourself staring up at the sky.
No phone walks — It seems ordinarily simple to do — go for a walk without your phone — but so hard in application. People didn’t have personal portable tracking devices as little as 20 years ago, and for all of human history before that, and most things turned out fine. Going for a walk alone and without a phone is one of the most powerful things you can do to protect your solitude from beeps, buzzes and interruptions. Also if you haven’t turned off all the sounds on your phone by now, this is your invitation.
Trad music session — A “trad music sesh” (i.e Irish traditional music session) is peak joy for me, and also given the pubs in Ireland are tiny, you feel squished in with humanity, all ears on a circle of musicians playing goosebump-inducing melodies, connected to the very thrum of why we are alive. On my first night in Dublin, I went searching for a trad music night and ended up being initiated into the Great Irish Pub Conversation. It’s been one of my favourite things to do alone ever since. I miss them terribly.
Storytelling night — I’ve developed a ritual of going to Seanchoíche (an Irish storytelling event that happens all over the world) in Fremantle solo and honestly, have the time of my life. Barefaced Stories is also another brilliant one in Perth that I go to with friends. Rocking up to events alone can be nerve-wracking. Sometimes just as I am about to walk in I think, “What the hell am I doing?!?” Then I tell myself: I am being brave. And I walk in. Bravery is always rewarded.
Farmers’ market — A friend called me the other day and said: “I saw you coming out of the Christmas market and you looked so happy!” And I was. I have a big LOVE for markets (I am Markets environment in Human Design coincidentally) and prefer to go to them alone for the most part as I can take my sweet time and talk to a seller for an hour if I want. Markets are one of the oldest meeting places in the world for the exchange of goods and services, and a lot of surprising connections happen there for me. Head to a farmers’ market near you to experience your solitude amidst a crowd and the possibility of new discoveries.
Practice something — I watched this guy practice casting his fly fishing rod in a park with no water. I was inspired. Writing is inherently a solo activity and the more I do it, the more I finesse my craft, so I have to practice writing. You will have your thing. Pickling, painting, competitive duck herding, a musical instrument. Our hobbies are for us. Practice them!
Lay on the ground — Lie down on the Earth, the floor, or your bed for 10 to 15 minutes and do nothing. To be a body that is allowed to just be a body. I always feel like my inner battery recharges when I am simply lying on solid ground. I’ve started focusing on the fractals in the leaves in the tree tops and it replenishes me at a soul level. I get up a new person.

To riff on Rick, solitude is a creative act.

To know what you need and give it to yourself is an act of self-love.

To relish and soak in your own company.

I wish that for you.

“Tell me of your solitude?” is a beautiful question to ask a friend.

When I lived in New York in my mid-twenties, I was lost and surrounded by people — and yet the loneliest I’ve ever been.

At the lowest low, I’d just had my heart broken by an Italian man (we met on a train from California to Colorado, peak Before Sunrise) that I had fallen in love with and had a one-way ticket to see in Florence. Name the block, yoga studio or park in East Village, I’ve probably cried there. One morning while on a sad girl walk, I saw two friends having a coffee in a cozy booth seat through a window. The sadness almost killed me. I so desperately just wanted a friend. I think that was the pivotal moment when I decided that I would be my most treasured friend for life. And I have been ever since.

Loneliness is still time spent with the world.

— Ocean Vuong

There is a confidence and perspective that you can only have by going through something — a threshold, a transformation, a breakdown — by yourself. It brings a whole new kind of self-knowing to your life.

Often in my solitude, I sense the perfection of the universe.

As John O’Donohue writes:

When you face your aloneness, something begins to happen. Gradually, the sense of bleakness changes into a sense of true belonging. No longer on the run from your aloneness, your connections with others become real and creative. You no longer need to covertly scrape affirmation from others or from projects outside yourself. This is slow work; it takes years to bring your mind home.

And when you do:

“Solitude can be a homecoming to your own deepest belonging.”

Welcome home.

Your soul is your ultimate belonging. Know that you can rest there.

It takes curiosity and perceptiveness to get to know yourself as you would a lover.

Make a list of solitudes that help you regulate your nervous system — water, writing, baths, meditation, gardening — and ones that make you feel alive.

There are times to not be alone and you are always worthy of help. Ask a friend to come over and sit with you, or call someone who will listen or workshop ideas or give you consolation. Human connection is paramount.

Your solitude is a home that you can always return to. And a place you can also invite others in.

Even when I am in a relationship, I will continue to do things alone and I will continue to have the best time.

May you be nourished by your inner friendship and always belong to your wild self.

I hope there is some gold in here for you.

My goal is to write more and more — you can support my quest! Add your name to get future letters, forward to a friend, or send a chai with honey my way.