People who voluntarily left society and lived in complete isolation – who are they? What kind of experience have they gained and what message can they convey to us, accustomed to socialization and close contact with others? The stories of several hermits are shared by cognitive psychologist Matt Johnson.
If for most criminals imprisonment means the terrible prospect of being removed from the mainstream of society, then for Christopher Knight it was exactly the opposite. The man was arrested for burglary on April 4, 2013, his first human contact in 27 years.
He lived most of his life as a hermit. At the age of 20, he left his full-time job as a computer maintainer and, without saying goodbye to anyone, left the human community for almost three decades. All this time he lived without water, electricity and even a fire. Avoiding contact with people, he raided a nearby town at night for food and supplies. On this he was caught at the age of 47 years. Never used the internet and never sent a single email in my life.
“This behavior is atypical,” says cognitive psychologist Matt Johnson. By nature, humans are social beings. Most of us have an innate desire to interact with others, to experience a sense of belonging and camaraderie. Long periods without social contact usually cause detrimental effects on mental and physical health.”
And yet loneliness is not always and not fatal for everyone. People like Knight provide material for rare studies: they could become members of society, but chose the path of seclusion. In their stories about themselves, one can hear something in common: they see prolonged seclusion as a unique opportunity to explore the boundaries of inner experience.
Isolation, loneliness and sense of self
Having no other company than yourself opens up endless potential for introspection. Earlier, something similar was described by the French philosopher Michel de Montaigne, who created the book “Experiments”, isolating himself from society and locking himself in the library for several years.
“Normal conversation here should be between yourself and yourself. We have a soul that can be turned towards itself,” he wrote. “She has the means of attack and defense, the ability to receive and give…”
Five centuries later, Mauro Morandi, who lived alone for more than 30 years on a small island off the coast of Italy, agreed with the French philosopher. In one of the rare interviews, he admitted: “I realized that the most beautiful, dangerous, adventurous and enjoyable journey of all is what you make inside yourself.”
Loneliness can open interesting possibilities for us and be a window to a rare and deep inner experience.
Approximately the same was said by Christopher Knight: “Loneliness gives something valuable … my perception. However, when I directed this heightened perception towards myself, I lost my identity. There was no audience, no one to speak to … I became absolutely free.
Such states are difficult to understand if there has not been such an experience in life. What does it really mean to be absolutely free? How does it feel to find yourself after losing the rest of the world?
The revelations of those who have experienced it can confuse us even more. In the Chinese book of wisdom “Tao Te Ching”, the authorship of which is attributed to Lao Tzu, there are lines: “Those who know do not speak. Those who speak don’t know.” According to Matt Johnson, this exposition of the teachings of the Tao itself could be the product of the author’s philosophical retreat.
Loneliness can open up interesting opportunities for us and be a window into a rare and deep inner experience, the psychologist is sure.
The path is not for everyone
It must be emphasized that living alone is not for everyone. With rare exceptions, we humans are still social beings. We differ from each other in needs and the degree to which we are influenced by others. Those who sought solitude had a certain temperament.
Such people are rare and unique. Montaigne, Thoreau, Knight, and many others have chosen a sort of hermetic life. For us, their stories can be a source of comfort – even a little.
About the author: Matt Johnson is a cognitive psychologist.