Feeling Solitude as Restorative

For the first time in many years, I have a living space of my own, all to myself (except for the pups who I’ve invited in). It’s quiet, it’s clean, it’s organized, and it’s peaceful. There is a view of the mountains that feels healing, and which I can take a look at or sit outside to revel in, whenever I want. There is wildlife that’s interesting to observe and to interact with. There are beautiful plants in bloom right now (that also smell good). To me, that’s restorative to a nervous system that has been functioning in overdrive for a long time.

For any of us who identify as introverted, highly sensitive, neurodivergent, or autistic, you know what I mean. Interacting with people, especially in a “social” way, can be enjoyable, but it takes a certain amount of time to recover from that. For introverts, that often entails solitude, time in which our brains can process without interruption. Time to think, to create, to read, even to plan, but mostly to just be. I’ve come to realize that a certain portion of this is likely neurodivergence, which feels validating in a world that mostly doesn’t understand that. I do enjoy the company of others when I feel regulated, but I also enjoy my own company. Interacting with my clients feels different, and not depleting, and I think it’s because the conversations have such depth as to be restorative as well (even when the subject matter gets hard).

I understand that many people need to regulate themselves in the company of others. In this world, that’s much easier to do than if you need solitude. Whatever works best for you is what’s best for you. It would be helpful if people who exist outside of the typical could understand that, and accept that their own ways of coping are valid too, without the external judgment and shame that often accompanies it. How many times have you been accused of “isolating”, as if that were something negative? Sometimes I wish that my system ran on extroversion/human co-regulation, etc. because it would be more convenient, for sure. But then, I look at the pups snoozing, listen to the hum of the dryer going, think about what I will make for dinner, look out the window at the lovely surroundings – and change my mind.