To start off shortly, I live alone in a one bedroom apartment in Miami, and despite my location I actually don't know anyone, so it has been quite a lonely 120 days of quarantine. I had to move from my university when quarantine, so I moved to Miami for the time being as part of a Work-For-Rent deal.

I think I've met up with a friend maybe three times during all of this, and she's currently in California again so I've been by myself for a while.

At first I went crazy. Bonkers doing nothing but online courses and playing videogames. I even caved and bought Netflix.

I picked up several hobbies out of boredom from pole fitness to droning. I even adopted a Bearded Dragon as a pet.

It was hard at first transitioning from constant human interaction at college to nothing. No one but me. It was scary being left with my thoughts but I saw this as an opportunity. A chance to take a long time and think about myself as a person. Recently I've been struggling with my professional identity and cultural identity in this world. I tell people my dreams of being a neurosurgeon, but . . . when I run over the plan to myself it feels lackluster and uninspiring.

So every day I thought about myself. My behavior and emotions. My choices and actions. My mistakes and successes so far. Out of all this time I think I did gain something. One lesson in particular, and that is the sanctity of your own singularity.

Sanctity in Singularity

So what does this really mean? Well first I want to just highlight briefly what I experience day to day being alone.

I wake up, quite early since my pet reptile needs to eat pretty early at around 8am usually. Take care of boring maintenance of my apartment, eat and then do nothing for about 10 hours. Yes I'm unemployed, but I do design commissions online (I just opened a Fiverr!!)

So it's fairly plain and cyclical. But overtime I began to realize something. I began to feel . . . very comfortable. I felt safe. Being in such solitary made me appreciate my own . . . presence more. I was aware of what I was doing, and I enjoyed my own company.

I've struggled with self love severely over my life. I don't think I've ever thought of myself particularly positive, which albeit depressing is just true. However, being alone to my thoughts and not really having the ability to go out and do something due to the state of Miami. So I began to actually enjoy my own company. I liked being alone and not doing anything the entire day and just vibing to music. For days on end. Sure I was bored, but I was bored with myself. I grew a greater appreciation for my own existence.

It became special. My boring lazy routine. It was ritualistic I found. It became important. For the first time I think I myself became important to myself. In almost a personal way as if I was two separate people.

In Death . . .

One powerful thing I've learned over just the course of my life (and experimenting with psychadelics) is the inevitability of our mortality, and the beauty in the self. All we are, are our own consciousness. We are molds of our experience and environment, and the "self" is that product of the mold. The only evidence we have for our own reality is our own reality. This may be difficult to grasp, but essentially the only proof we have for ourself is ourself. You! Your very existence is happening. You are living and processing my own words. Your existence is something sacred, and should be cherished by YOU.

When we die, we are alone. In our heads. Our only comfort into the afterlife, void or whatever you believe in is ourself. We give ourselves the strength to go on.

After all, who knows you better than you?

And therefore, who cares about you more than you?

Cherish your time alone. By yourself with your thoughts. You're your best company after all. Who can relate to you more than you. Who can feel with you more than you? I hope this doesn't sound occult-y LOL but I am serious when I say I found a sanctity in my own self, my singularity.

"We are not human beings having a spiritual experience. We are spiritual beings having a human experience." - Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, S.J.