Welcome! I’m Dr. Jillian, a physician leader, mom, and coach who is on a mission to help other high achieving professionals and recovering perfectionists live less stressed, more satisfying lives. If the full post doesn’t show up in your e-mail, come over to the webpage or Substack App to see the whole thing. Subscribe here to get future posts straight to your inbox:
Hi there. How is your 2025 going so far?
If you were to ask me the same question, I’d have a hard time answering it. On one hand, I’ve had a lot of time away from work and just got back from a solo retreat to the lakeshore (more on that below).
On the other hand, life still feels like an absolute daze in the aftermath of my dad’s death. I’ve only recently begun to consider dealing with the physical things he left behind, and I imagine it will take a lifetime to navigate the metaphysical hole that has opened up after he left.
But life goes on. And so do I, just as my dad would want.
(In case there was any doubt, multiple copies of the poem below were left in the envelope containing his will. He was nothing if not practical, and he was also someone who hated being the center of attention or people fussing over him.)
As a way of getting a bit of space to reflect amidst the busyness of everyday life, I had planned a solo trip to the lakeshore for a few nights after the holidays. In the wake of my dad’s death, it felt even more important to go and recharge, reflect, and consider the future.
For some of you, you might feel that a trip by yourself sounds terrible. You might think you’d be lonely or bored. But, as an only child who grew up spending a lot of time by myself and who has gone on many solo trips, I’ll tell you that I’ve rarely felt lonely when traveling or eating out alone.
Solitude allows me to be 100% myself, and it gives me space to reflect and recharge in a way that being around other people does not.
Spending time alone is one of the most restorative practices we can offer ourselves.
In solitude, our nervous system can unwind, our minds can declutter, and our creativity can spark. Without external distractions, we have the freedom to process emotions, think deeply, and dream freely.
"Alone had always felt like an actual place to me, as if it weren’t a state of being but rather a room where I could retreat to be who I really was." Cheryl Strayed
Solitude also gives us the chance to know ourselves more fully. In the quiet, we can ask questions like:
What truly matters to me?
What am I avoiding?
How do I want to show up in the world?
What changes might I need to make in my life?
These reflections help us grow, and they’re nearly impossible to achieve amidst the noise of daily interactions.
You might not have the ability to carve out full days for yourself, but it is often possible to set aside smaller pockets of time if you are intentional about it.
In a culture that often equates busyness with worth, solitude can feel indulgent or unproductive. But choosing to step away and be alone is a powerful act of self-care. It’s a way to reclaim our time, energy, and inner peace.
To incorporate more moments of solitude and reflection into your life, try:
Taking a walk without your phone or other technology.
Journaling or meditating in the morning.
Spending 10 minutes alone in silence after a busy day.
This piece from
is a great place to start if you’d like to think more about how solitude could work in your own life.
In the quiet of solitude, we find ourselves. It’s a place where we can heal, dream, and grow—a gift we owe ourselves in this noisy, connected world.
When we prioritize solitude, we can then show up for our relationships more fully. Solitude replenishes the energy we need to connect with others in meaningful ways.
How do you incorporate solitude and reflection into your life? I would love to hear in the comments.
I love solitude and solo travel, and I rarely feel lonely. There’s so much space for thinking, as you say. Looks like we have the same book collection 😆
My number one indicator of how well I’m doing is how much alone time I get. For me, it’s essential. I’ve got to carve it out any chance I get, which isn’t too many with little guys, so I’m always grateful for the few quiet moments.