Solitude as a teacher and discipline of silence
There was a time when life began to draw me away from worldly concerns, and i recognised this shift clearly. It was this inner orientation that led me to choose a monastic life. Within the monastery, i was increasingly drawn to lives of practitioners and yogis, and over time, a strong longing arose to enter a long, solitary retreat.
I was grateful for the guidance of my Guru, because without it the spiritual path could easily become a marketplace. Years unfolded in the mountains of Ladakh, held by deep silence, wind, and vast open sky. Solitude served as a form of training; a teacher in its own right. On the path of awakening, solitude is never accidental. Either one enters it willingly through discernment, or life leads one there through breaking the resistance barrier. I entered with trust.
Even when solitude was chosen, the ego did not surrender easily. Silence revealed its restlessness. In the beginning, the mind searched for movement, affirmation, and reassurance. Old habits of seeking meaning through others surfaced repeatedly. The ego craved distraction, conversation, roles, and recognition. In isolation, it staged quiet rebellions: self-pity, doubt, subtle longing for a different life.
Living alone in the mountains, i learned to watch these movements. The absence of social mirrors made it impossible to sustain an identity. Without audience or approval, the ego weakened. The real practice was staying. Staying with long afternoons of stillness, with boredom, fear, and longing as they rose and fell.
Suffering arises when we resist what is present. As resistance softens, silence reveals its gentleness.
Days became simple: meditation, prayer, walking under an endless sky, studying Dharma, and doing nothing at all. Life stripped itself down to breath, awareness, and the changing light on barren mountains.
Solitude is uncompromising. Over time, it stripped away not only worldly identities, but spiritual ones, too. Even the sense of being ‘a practitioner’ loosened. What remained was presence, unadorned, intimate, and alive.
During this phase, i realised: it’s easy to follow a religion or a belief system that many pursue, because it offers safety net and comfort of belonging. Spiritual awakening, however, is the awakening from all belief systems. These structures and concepts naturally fell away, leaving experience itself as the guide. One is alone yet not separate. The mountains, moon and the starry nights taught me to trust the unfolding of life, unravelling mysteries. I bow to those years of solitude. What might appear as isolation revealed itself as grace. Solitude became my most faithful teacher, opening me to what remains when everything else falls away.
The writer is a Buddhist nun in the Tibetan tradition, formerly known as Barkha Madan
(The Times of India- Speaking Tree- 5th May 2026)
