Being in nature, I have found a beautiful, awe-inspiring sanctuary to sit with my own loneliness-melancholy—a deep, layered feeling that I’ve come to call solisorrow. For much of my life, I ran from the discomfort of this feeling, but in nature, I’ve come to experience the gift of being alone, allowing myself to feel the full depth of solisorrow and hear its quiet messages. Surrounded by the wisdom of the natural world, I can sit with this feeling—this blend of solitude and sorrow—in a way that feels grounding, expansive, and healing.
This has become an unexpected chapter in my life: one where I can hold and even value my solitude with solisorrow in a way that feels transformative. Nature knows exactly what I need, offering a steady presence that lets me embrace being alone without losing myself in loneliness. Surrounded by ancient trees, vast skies, and the rhythm of the ocean, I root into something timeless and find I no longer feel the urge to escape. Instead, I’m learning to welcome and hold space for this unique feeling of solisorrow, allowing it to guide me gently forward.
How does nature know? It’s a mystery that seems woven into its very fabric. Perhaps it’s because nature itself has endured countless cycles of change, stillness, and renewal, mirroring our own inner journeys. In its resilience, there’s a reminder that this feeling, too, is part of a larger, sacred whole. This sanctuary of solitude has given me a way to accept and even cherish solisorrow, connecting me to both my inner self and the natural world around me.
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