The Evolution of Self-Harm IV: The Holy Seclusion
We are, by far, the loudest species—and simultaneously the loneliest. There’s a quiet that we glorify today. It's your localised minimalist desk setups, log-out posts, and the hashtags of “protecting my peace.” It is a kind of monkhood for the modern mind, born not in temples but in studio apartments, bathed not in incense but in the glow of screens turned off. And, truth be told, I know you love it. There’s something liberating—pure, even—in the pullback. The act of withdrawing from the noise, pruning the unnecessary, watching life from the safe edges of detachment. Isolation, when deliberate, feels like power. It’s the silence that holds you together when everything else threatens to split you apart. But it is also the most sophisticated form of self-harm I know. The Seduction of Solitude Somewhere along the path of healing, we started equating solitude with strength. And it is—until it isn’t. We repeat mantras like “I don’t need anyone,” “I’m better off alone,” or “They’ll ...