I've been looking at the Bearblog discover feed more lately and it's interesting how often people reply to each other's posts/ideas on their blogs (this makes sense - most of them don't have comments). One of the things I've noticed is that a lot of people talk about social media and the internet causing loneliness. There have only been a few of these posts (that I've seen) which acknowledge solitude or stillness as a valuable experience in life. Most of them quite simply pit social media vs social time, and don't address all the other stuff that comes with life.

I'm gonna do that here, since none of my Bearblogs are made for this kind of writing.

Here's what I keep reading: The internet is making us lonelier, more isolated, and less connected. In many ways this is true. We scroll a LOT, consume curated lives, and experience FOMO (or JOMO/ROMO to differentiate themselves from folks who wish they could do everything). As I've watched these conversations unfold, a question keeps coming up:

Is the issue solely that your internet usage is isolating you from other people? Or is it also isolating you from yourself?

I've watched the rise of constant digital engagement; I lived through it, for a time. Without claiming any "universality" with this statement: based on my observations and the things I've read, there's an increasing discomfort with stillness, quiet, or simply existing alone. I'm not talking about the "pain of loneliness," but about solitude: an intentional state of being by yourself.

How many of the people discussing this topic practice the art of simply being? When was the last time they sat perfectly fine without an agenda, screen, or person around, just letting their thoughts wander or staying bored? For many, just the concept of "being alone" is unnerving. Do we sometimes mistake the discomfort of quiet for a need to socialize?

There seems to be an unwritten rule these days that you should be social, or at least socially available, at all times. The idea of truly unplugging not just from devices, but also from people, is often framed as "weird." Yet, throughout history solitude has been the lifestyle of many great writers and artists who produce all the stuff you love and which have inspired you to create, discover yourself, and process the world.

Of course we have to acknowledge that solitude has often been a privilege of the few. Many "great thinkers" and "philosophers" we quote on the benefits of isolation were supported by their wives, mothers, or servants, who had meals waiting for them when they came home and did their laundry for them. They could enjoy the luxury of their own minds without distraction.

For many today, the internet is not just a "distraction," but a low-cost survival tool after a hard day. When your life is loud, sitting with your thoughts can feel like a chore. perhaps we're not bad at being alone; maybe we've been stripped of the support necessary to make solitude feel safe.

From another point of view: The internet certainly offers multiple pathways to connection. It crosses oceans, facilitates community, and allows us to share and learn and grow collectively. Perhaps it also offers a very convenient escape from self-reliance and emotional independence. Do we use digital spaces to simulate connection - fill a void that being alone without self-understanding creates? Would we rather observe other people's lives than confront our own?

I don't have any answers, just thoughts and observations. Perhaps the path to feeling more connected isn't just about how often or how we connect online, but also about relearning how to be alone and tolerate the challenges of self-acknowledgement. Beneath all this digital noise, we are each complex individuals with rich lives; do the authors on Bearblog know that about themselves?