In Patanjali’s Yoga Sutras, there is a concept called KAIVALYA translated from the Sanskrit as isolation or aloneness. KAIVALYA is the much sought after state where individual consciousness dissolves into the mystery of sentience. After years of dedicated practice yogis become so attuned to the lifeforce that there is no longer a YOU and ME; only an US. The fundamental longing to be seen and known by other humans is eclipsed by the greater understanding of consciousness as a continuous stream of ever present aliveness. Yogis in this state experience communion and empathy between all living beings.

AL(L)-ONE instead of A-LONE.

When yogis experience these luminous states, they don’t hang out in retreat centers in meditative bliss. Kaivalya is the interface where the mystical and practical meet in real human lives. Yogis at this level of attainment retain the “always alone/never alone” paradox, but function, more or less, as regular people doing their best to be supportive and helpful. I’m guessing that this doesn’t sound much like the yoga any of us have been practicing in the last 10 years. Modern postural yoga does not resemble the yoga of Patanjali much at all. But when the pandemic hit, I found myself confronted with what I refer to as Kaivalya Bootcamp. What might have seemed relieving in another context–weeks of uninterrupted alone time–became distressing when imposed by fear.

Spending so much time by myself allowed me to differentiate my breath, body, and consciousness from my emotions. The difference is subtle–like trying to separate a rose from its scent. The SPACE between the experience of the senses and the feelings evoked by sensory information turns out to be the inner antidote to loneliness. In my nervous system, when perception and interpretation are jumbled together, I start to look toward social cues to recalibrate. If the longing for validation goes unmet, it spills over into loneliness.

If instead, I am able to inhabit the SPACE, I can start to relate to my perceptions as a friend would, with appreciation and tolerance. It was odd to think of myself like this, but now it feels good and is a profound new baseline that I wish I had experienced sooner. I don’t have to rush to interpret what I perceive: I can simply perceive it and trust that I will be ok. Aloneness goes against cultural and evolutionary notions of safety, but I am willing to rewrite that story because I am resilient and courageous.

These discoveries weren’t an obvious or conscious process, but through isolation my mind slowed down enough to observe itself. I started to understand that loneliness wasn’t a punishment, it was a signal that my mental states were ragged and destabilizing. Sometimes I used yoga practices to disrupt those feelings. Other times, walks in nature reminded me of shared sentience. Eventually, the muscle for solitude strengthened and I spent longer and longer stretches, not lonely, but alone. I have in no way achieved Kaivalya, but I have experienced something akin to it.

When I do find companionship, I am grateful. Communing with others feels more like a gift than a need. And while Kavailya Bootcamp is not something I recommend, it helped me find my way.

It’s my hope that less and less of us have to suffer from loneliness in 2022 and that reflections like these can help others break free.