Solitude is not a natural state. We are, in our deepest essence, social beings, constituted by the relationships which make us what we are. Take these relationships away, as happens when one finds oneself all alone, and it is as though various aspects of self have been torn away leaving bleeding wounds. There is an overwhelming temptation to alleviate the pain these cause by drifting into a fantasy world, living vicariously, a fantasy self engaged in fantasy relationships. This escape is all the more tempting if it distracts from the nagging worries which thrust the stark reality of the three brute facts of existence into the forefront of consciousness. The quicksands of insecurity surround on all sides, far more real than the possibilities of success and a good outcome. But the fantasy self is a chimera and its insubstantiality only adds to unhappiness.
The irony is that the notion of solitude is itself a fantasy and not real. Oh, it is possible to be solitary, even in the midst of a city, but one is never alone. Being alone is a state of mind. Even weather beaten tramps in their incessant walking impinge on the consciousness of others and are themselves dependent. At a superficial level we may look like ants scurrying to and fro but at a deeper lever we are all engaged in a dance to a song we cannot hear but whose rhythms shape our lives. At a deeper level still we are one with the singer of the song. But we are not aware of the deeper levels. They exist in our minds, if they exist at all, only as a possibility and possibilities do not assuage hunger or keep out the cold, nor are they a shoulder to cry on, nor a friend to laugh with. The possibility has to become a reality. This is where religion and meditation come in.