The Importance of Knowing the Difference Between Being Alone and Feeling Lonely

.

Crossroads Conversations

When I first started hosting Camino de Santiago walking retreats in rural Gascony, the French Tuscany, I assumed I would be the one doing most of the teaching.

I couldn’t have been more wrong.

Over the years, dozens of people have arrived at my farmhouse carrying backpacks, walking boots, and lives that had gradually become much too heavy. Some were still working. Some had retired. Some were rebuilding after loss, illness or divorce. Others simply couldn’t explain why they felt so restless.

They thought they had come to walk a couple of sections of the Camino.

In the end, they became MY teachers. The CrossRoads Conversations blog post series explores what my guests have taught me over the last twenty-odd years.

One of the questions I’m asked most often is whether my guests feel lonely walking the Camino on their own.

The answer surprises many people.

Almost never.

People often assume that solitude and loneliness are the same thing. They aren’t. In fact, after hosting dozens of Camino de Santiago walking retreats over the years, I’ve become convinced that they are almost opposites.

Loneliness is the painful feeling of being disconnected.

Solitude is the peaceful experience of being connected—to yourself.

Modern life doesn’t always make room for that distinction.

We spend much of our lives surrounded by people. We work in teams, attend meetings, answer messages, join family gatherings and dutifully keep up with social media. Ironically, we can be in constant contact with others while feeling increasingly disconnected from ourselves.

Then, when we’re finally alone, it can feel rather unfamiliar.

A little like discovering you’ve been introduced to someone you should have known all your life.

Yourself.

When guests arrive at my farmhouse in southwest France, some are slightly apprehensive about walking the Camino alone. They wonder whether they’ll become bored, lonely or perhaps a little anxious.

“What if I don’t know what to think about for all those hours?” someone asked me recently.

I smiled.

“I suspect you’ll find something.”

The Camino has been answering that question for centuries.

Please don’t misunderstand me. Human connection matters enormously. Some of the warmest moments of every retreat happen around the dinner table, where stories are shared over good food and in good company, laughter comes easily, and complete strangers somehow end up feeling like old friends. I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve heard someone say, “I feel as though I’ve known you all for years.”

There is something about walking the Camino that strips away the need for small talk. After spending the day walking on your own, you’ll no longer feel the need to impress anyone or keep up appearances. Conversations will become gentler, deeper and, quite often, surprisingly funny. There is something wonderfully liberating about admitting that you’ve spent twenty minutes trying to identify a bird that turned out to be a scarecrow, or that you had an entire conversation with a cow because it was the only soul around for miles. The Camino has a marvellous way of restoring our sense of perspective—and occasionally our sense of humour.

I’ve also noticed that the guests who are most anxious about walking alone are often the very people who embrace it most wholeheartedly. They set off with a little apprehension, wondering whether they’ll become lonely, only to return glowing with the quiet satisfaction that comes from having enjoyed their own company.

Some even tell me, almost apologetically, that they wished the walk had been a little longer.

Not because they wanted to cover more kilometres, but because, somewhere along the path, they had rediscovered something precious. They had remembered that being alone isn’t the same as being lonely.

In fact, once the noise of everyday life begins to fade, solitude can feel unexpectedly nourishing.

Perhaps that is one of the Camino’s quietest gifts. It doesn’t remove loneliness from our lives—few things can—but it reminds us that we already possess the ability to enjoy our own company. That is an important distinction, particularly in a world that seems determined to fill every spare moment with noise, distraction or another glowing screen demanding our attention.

When guests return home, they often tell me that something has definitely changed. They find themselves taking walks without automatically reaching for their phone. They spend a quiet hour in the garden without feeling guilty. They begin to understand that silence isn’t something to be filled; sometimes it is something to be treasured.

I think my guests have taught me this lesson more clearly than anyone else ever could. Loneliness isn’t always the absence of other people. Quite often, it’s the absence of a meaningful relationship with ourselves.

Loneliness the absence of a meaningful relationship with ourselves. Dr Margaretha Montagu

The Camino, walked at an unhurried pace through the vineyards, forests and sleepy villages of southwest France, has a gentle way of helping us rediscover that relationship. And once we’ve found it again, we realise that walking alone can be one of the least lonely experiences in the world.

---

Could you do with a little more solitude and a little less noise?

If the thought of spending a few peaceful days walking the Camino de Santiago through the beautiful countryside of southwest France appeals to you, I’d love to tell you more about my small-group walking retreats.

You might discover that walking alone is one of the least lonely things you’ll ever do.

You can email me at MargarethaMontagu.com.