For most of my life, my circle of acquaintances was very wide, and my tree of friends grew with the passing days. I was easygoing, shy, and obliging; therefore, I would respond to most of the invitations I received from acquaintances and friends.

Anyone who had an occasion would invite me to attend, and anyone wishing to travel abroad or go on a domestic trip would invite me to join them. People would invite me to their periodic meetings in rental rest houses or regular gatherings in their homes, and I would respond to all these invitations.

Years passed by in this manner, and I remained in that state, scattered and distracted, with no time of my own except for the time allocated for sleep and work—which was essentially lost time.

I did not realize this loss until I was retired. Strangely, I felt no sense of comfort or happiness, nor any material or moral benefit that would justify maintaining those marginal relationships and meetings. I gained nothing from them but loss and distraction—save for one benefit: knowing people for who they truly are through their actions, behavioral patterns, and ways of interacting.

Every person I accompanied was like a book I had read; friends are like open books with varied contents. They include the good and the bad, the generous and the stingy, the wise and the foolish, the educated and the ignorant, the arrogant and the humble, the cunning and the naive, the smart and the stupid, the loving and the hateful, the sincere and the hypocritical, and so on through these various dualities and contradictions.

After my retirement, my field of vision broadened, and my space for reflecting on myself and my social situation expanded. I discovered that the losses far outweighed the gains in the arena of wide-reaching social relationships.

Therefore, I decided to prune the tree of friends and reduce marginal meetings and gatherings to the absolute minimum. I turned to solitude, where I found my comfort, happiness, independence, and freedom.

Naturally, this task was not easy or simple. Freeing myself from that vast network required strength, determination, persistence, and patience to face the storms of interpretation, criticism, and accusation, as well as the reproach of loved ones. It also required a certain skill in convincing them of the justifications that led to my sudden decision to withdraw and retreat.

Some people were excessive in their reproaches over my decision, while others went to extremes in fabricating interpretations and hurling criticisms and accusations. There are those who doubt my credibility when I tell them of the positives I have achieved in solitude, and there are still some who hope for my return to them, even five years after I sought seclusion.

Two points are worth noting here.

The first is that solitude, in general, differs today from solitude in the past due to the availability of communication tools that allow the recluse to remain in constant contact with the outside world.

The second point is that I still maintain contact with a limited number of friends; I meet and talk with them. I am also keen to attend some social occasions I am invited to, and to participate in cultural events I am asked to join.

On one hand, this is true; on the other hand, in the shadow of this solitude, I am honored to welcome friends who visit me at my home, and I am grateful to them and happy for their visits at any time.

****

A poetic interlude:

Leave me to my seclusion, my friends,

For I have blossomed in this sphere.

Life has bloomed in the garden of my years,

And happiness has sparkled in my eyes.

Phobias have left me, never to return,

And cheerfulness has embraced me fully.

For green freedom... there is a bridge,

I have crossed it... towards liberation.

I searched for life, but found it not,

Save in my solitude, without being closed off.