on spiritual solitude for elevation.

i run away to get away from the noise.

i run to the noise with the same feet that carried me to the desert to pray.

i run back to the noise that was calling me, tempting me.

my name dripped like honey from their lips.

and i ran to it. 

because in the noise and confusion i can’t hear my own voice.

and that will always be comfortable

to someone who doesn’t know what their own soul’s song sounds like.


my spiritual solitude may not quite have the undertones of Hype-Williams-blue from "Belly", but if i had the audacity to put a fraction of god's wisdom on a pedestal and call it Sincere..... well. i just hope i burst into flames to light the way for someone else. 


lately i've been seeing fingerprints on my growth. and they aren't my own. smudge marks conceal a lot of definite truths that i should be swallowing, ingesting, emanating. 

most of my growth has been at the expense of others. there, i said it. yes, i have taken the golden reins of my life and i will continue to do so; however, my growth has been contingent upon the involved hands of others, the tongues of lovers, and the pain that chained me to my past. i have sprouted from the earth because i have been escaping. now i’m ready to grow because i want to ascend towards the sun. i now want to walk on a path led by my own spirit's calling.

it’s been a bittersweet "thanks for stopping by, now that wasn't too bad was it?" candy that’s been resting in the glass jar of god’s waiting room. i’ve unwrapped the wrapper and tasted it. not only because i don’t want to come off ungrateful, but because it’s an offering i can’t refuse if i need to understand the appointments scheduled with the divine. 

over the past few weeks, silence became deafening for me. in between four walls, there was a raging war between the voices in my head and the tape recorder that played of those around me. it’s been constant discord. neurotic tugs of war. indecision. restlessness. a screaming match in every closet of my mind. suffocating confusion. and it’s in the silence - the solitude - that i hear all of this loud and clear. it’s also in the silence that my truth becomes louder. 

i cover myself with a blanket of stillness to silence the outside noises. it comes like an auditory hallucination:



elevation requires separation.

spiritual solitude is a component of growth that is necessary to bloom. usually, it’s voluntary. in my case, i will gladly book a spiritual vacation away from the mariachi band of reality. sometimes i’m too out of tune with the noise of reality. it’s too loud, and it drowns out my own truth. other times, spiritual solitude is divinely forced. i have been a beautiful victim of the strippings that god will do. it comes dressed in love, seduces you into the apartment, and then crashes the place. breaks your dishes. burns your clothes. reveals all of your darkest secrets that you brushed under the rug. hangs your dirty panties over the balcony. and then you’re left - alone - to do the soul work. you’re left to put your own pieces back together. because others’ fingerprints are not supposed to be the glue of your being. 

i’m tired of my heart looking like a performance piece. there are too many hands in my kitchen. too many unknown, foreign ingredients in my pot. the flavor is beginning to poison me. and this is when i understood the neon-lit sign of truth: 

too many people can’t have access to you, darling.

do you think that a flower touched by too many hands doesn’t eventually wither? luckily, i’m a flower with a conscience to defend myself and protect my space. something is tugging at my spirit that is telling me that i need to ascend. it’s time for the next phase in life. and with each level up, requires a newer version of you. i need to know how to navigate new spaces and i can’t do it with old soul tools.

time to hop into tracy chapman's fast car and drive. to a beautiful place called spiritual solitude.

spiritual solitude is the space of activation for the next phase in your life. it sounds like a space in the sky with thick mists of white, hovering over rocks filled with hot springs, beautiful naked men chiseled like gods, champagne glasses runneth-ing over. or a rehab center. 

spiritual solitude is not cute. it's not glitter falling from your tits. it's not a crown of flowers that magically appears like a snapchat filter. spiritual solitude is not easy. it's a time where you dig deep into your soul and get dirt under your fingernails. it's a time when you embrace those dark corners inside your deepest self and light them up. you call the demons out by name. you forgive the predators in your mind. ancestors visit you in your sleep and sage your bed down. (lol, idk about this one but i love the imagery.) spiritual solitude is that place that you visit when you need to recharge and lock fingers again with yourself. it can be beautiful in its ugliest hour, if you remember the purpose of why you're there. it is a space to reconcile with all of the hunger your soul had been thirsting for and could not receive with the fruits of others' trees. 

spiritual solitude:

• requires you to come alone, to take your shoes off before you enter the sacred space. you're here to honor yourself. you are walking into the temple of your own body, mind, heart, and spirit. wash your feet and walk in with respect - for yourself in the present and your future self. 

• asks of you to shrink to fit. your ego is too large. it's a small space, only for you. do not come with the baggage of others. it is meant to be uncomfortably small, snug, and claustrophobic. you are meant to be forced to listen and taste your own breath. i feel as though people are afraid of their own breath and that is why they cannot truly be in tune with the present. our breaths are our rhythm into melting with the present. if you ignore them, you are constantly being suffocated by the constraints of time. 

• is ugly. you will need to look into the mirror. that is a scary place, but that is where you will be able to recognize the scars unseen to the naked eye.

• is beautiful. this is the time where you are taking responsibility to move forward with yourself and your life. follow these petals.

isolating yourself out of fear and detaching yourself from the gripping of others’ influence are not synonymous. i’m enjoying the undoing as my own doing. separation may look like taking intentional hours out of the day to reflect, pause, and be with yourself. it may look like booking a trip alone and learning as you go. it may look like turning your phone off for a full day. it may look like taking months off from a social life, your friends, and outsiders. spiritual solitude may look like letting go of distractions (social media, tv, sex, relationships) and diving heavier into activities that fill you spiritually (taking risks like skydiving, exercising, reading, going to church, meeting friends with common interests, actively healing your body, etc.). 

my spiritual solitude looks like committing to my purpose and my goals, stop looking for outside validation & advice all the time, fighting and silencing the urge to ask for others' opinions, giving up going out more than once a week, exercising more, creating rituals for myself, honoring my body, and journaling everything.

i want to ascend to new heights - both in my spiritual and physical life. i've let too many people in to the point where i have lost myself in pieces i didn't know exist until i realize they are missing. i had to ask myself if i'm okay with being alone for a while, to get where i need to be. if i'm okay with separation. if i'm okay with salt now to be able to taste the sugar more clear later.


my answer is yes. 


if you're interested in an e-course or webinar on spiritual solitude, please click here. 


olivia jade. Comment