Gift From The Sea

Solitude, it seems, should be something easy to achieve. As Lindbergh writes, “We are all, in the last analysis, alone” (48); solitude is the basic truth of being and, therefore, something to which people should be naturally drawn. It is also something that can help bring joy and inner contentment when it is properly appreciated. Yet, in practice, it is one of the most difficult things to attain. This is in part owing to a societal bad conscience about solitude. Americans are, suggests Lindbergh, socialized to regard the desire for solitude “like a secret vice” (58), worrying that its pursuit will mark one as “rude, egotistical or strange” (58). Almost any other pursuit, no matter how trivial, is regarded as more legitimate than taking time to be alone. Consequently, people suppress their natural desire for solitude or make time alone their lowest priority. Another difficulty related to practicing solitude is, as Lindbergh says, “parting is inevitably painful, even for a short time” (50). If one is close to another person who brings them happiness, choosing to be apart feels like a strain. The person seeking solitude may feel that they are losing part of themselves by seeking time away or worry that the other person will feel rejected or uncared for. After the initial pain and adjustment, however, solitude awakens one to a renewed sense of self and happiness. Fear of that initial pain, suggests Lindbergh, means people often hesitate to make time alone properly or regularly for themselves.

The appreciation of solitude is difficult because it depends on developing what Lindbergh calls “the stilling of the soul within the activities of the mind and body” (59). This is, as in meditation, the ability to be aware and present in the moment. Critically, it represents the ability to set aside everyday distractions and anxieties and be content and focused on immediate consciousness and feelings. Simply not being in the presence of others or going to an isolated location does not guarantee stillness. This is particularly true for those who have forgotten the smaller habits and “creative springs” (60) that help nurture contemplative stillness. These are often activities that involve the body, such as cooking, chopping wood, or walking. These habits are also threatened by what Lindbergh calls “the curtain of mechanization” (61) that has “come down between the mind and the hand” (61) as people rely on machines to perform more of their daily tasks.

The semi-automation of many human activities alienates people from much of what used to help calm the mind and prepare them for deeper, more sustained solitude. The goal of Gift from the Sea is to prepare people to return to solitude. This is, in part, achieved performatively by the text itself. For example, in Lindbergh’s description of the natural island setting, in which she “watch[es] the gulls at the end of the pier, dip and wheel” (51), she uses poetic imagery and rhythms to create a calming pace that reinforces the importance and serenity of the contemplative life.