Why Solitude is Essential for Singers

I recently had to make a drastic change to how much of my life I was living online.

I had started to notice that my existence felt underscored by a constant rippling undercurrent of anxiety and overwhelm. I had a sneaking suspicion that there were 4 familiar culprits at the root of it all - social media, email, news and texting.

It felt like I had very little silence.

No space.

My brain felt noisy all the time.

And yet, technically I did have moments of silence and space. I don’t have a bustling household. It’s quite peaceful as a dog mom to the sweetest, chillest dog of all time (I’m not biased I swear), I generally have pretty spacious weekends, and I have time to meditate and get outside in nature every day of the week. Running a business is a more than full time job, sure - but I definitely still have time to myself.

So why did I feel like I didn’t have a minute alone?

The culprit is probably in your hand right now. Or your pocket. Or next to your laptop. Wherever it is, I’m certain you know where it is because it has become like an appendage for most of us - the smartphone.

The truth is that most of my moments of “solitude” where constantly disrupted by social media, email, news and text.

And even when I had turned off all the notifications, the behavioral addiction so kindly (note the sarcasm) cultivated by instagram, would have me impulsively reaching for my phone to alleviate any moment of boredom or discomfort.

I was addicted to digital input. I was rarely, if ever, experiencing true solitude. Even my love of listening to podcasts was taking up the time I desperately needed to be with myself, my thoughts, my inner world with no external cognitive input.

Cal Newport, the author of Digital Minimalism calls this phenomenon, “Solitude Deprivation: a state in which you spend close to zero time alone with your own thoughts and free from input from other minds.”

After a month of significantly reduced and boundaried online time, that undercurrent of anxiety I mentioned is virtually gone. I feel like I am reconnecting to living intentionally and I feel more drawn to connecting with other humans more than I have in years because I am truly getting the solitude I need.

You are probably wondering what all of this has to do with singing.

Well, it struck me the other day that for so many of us singers, what feels impossible is falling in love with our voice, developing our unique sound, finding satisfaction in the music we create. It’s like, whenever we are singing, even by ourselves, there are so many “people in the room” with us, influencing how we feel about our voices.

There’s the tiktok star we heard that morning singing the song we are working on - we can’t help but hear their voice in our heads every time we try to create our unique take on the same song.

There’s all the instagram voice coaches you followed earlier this week. Your mind is filled with varying tips and tricks for getting that “perfect” belt. You can’t decide which is the right way and feel constant self-doubt about your approach. You don’t even know what feels right to you anymore.

There’s the internet rabbit hole you went down following famous musicians careers that has left you feeling like you shouldn’t be struggling so much to write your first song. Why can’t you be as prolific as Taylor Swift?

There’s the constant distraction of wondering whether or not you’ll sound good enough to maybe post on instagram today.

So many of us are bombarded with information, music, sound bites about what good singing is, what talent is, who belongs in music and who doesn’t , what styles are in and what styles are out.

Very few of us are asking one of the most important questions we need to ask ourselves as singers:

What songs light me up?

What songs feel easeful in my voice?

What sounds do I love to make?

What songs connect me to my emotional landscape?

How can singing be an experience of feeling more and more at home with myself and my unique creativity?

And when do we get a chance to really ask those questions and hear an answer? In true, extended periods of solitude.

So, what would I suggest?

Remove some form of digital input from your life for at least 30 days and take note of how you feel. Delete social media. Go for a walk and don’t take your phone with you. Go for a drive and try not listening to music or a podcast. Go through periods of singing where you don’t reference other musicians - see what sounds, insights and connections emerge from out of the silence.

Let solitude create the space to hear your own song.

Let solitude give you the space to form your own sacred relationship with your voice.

Let solitude teach you how to receive what you’ve sung, just as it is. Its worth inherent simply because it happened.