Department of the interior
My inner life takes center stage.
If you’ve read more than a few of my essays, you’ve likely encountered phrases describing misty streets and leafy rowhouses or leafy streets and misty rowhouses. My atmospheric descriptions trend towards a moody urban environment. There often aren’t many, if any, people around. This brings to mind my difficulty with groups and my special interests. A larger question has surfaced for me: where does this ideal image in my mind exist, if it does at all? I’ve written about moving to a city in pursuit of what I thought was a career but may have just been the feeling of reaching my potential. While I managed to capture some of those elements, I discovered that the streets and rowhouses symbolize a mental space as much as a physical one.
Over the past three years of becoming aware of my likely autism, I’ve encountered countless new terms, concepts, and phrases. However, the one that has had perhaps the greatest influence on my daily life isn’t exclusive to autism at all: the concept of an inner life.
Let’s return to the basics: I’ve always had thoughts. Some drove me to action, some drove me to anxiety. When I read The Power of Now in my 20s, it felt profound to consider that we create some of our own suffering in our minds through our thoughts. By focusing intensely on the present, we can experience peace anytime, anywhere. While it was a useful tool, I admit I used it sparingly (and exclusively on park benches). Most of the time, I focused on bringing my thoughts to life by going on outings or trying to join or build groups around my interests.
This worked great until it didn’t. I found myself overextended and uncomfortable professionally, mentally unable to share my ideas or lacking allies who I could count on to respond enthusiastically to them. Socially, I would say a silly idea from my head and it would be looked down upon or, worse, not acknowledged at all. This infuriated me. [sidebar: I cannot stand this type of conversational gatekeeping. Whether it stems from elitism or self-centeredness or just distraction, I’m not here for it. Acknowledging what someone says, no matter how small, is a matter of dignity in communication.]
This was my isolating experience outside my home for the past number of years. The coping mechanism I developed is the understanding that the world as I wish it to exist already exists inside my head. I can exist there in peace and playfulness anytime I choose.
It’s not always easy to communicate the value of an inner life to others, so I asked my AI companion for a summary I could share with friends and family (on nights and weekends using our Unlimited Minutes). Let’s go with this:
An inner life is the rich world of thoughts, feelings, and reflections that exist within a person’s mind. It’s where we process our experiences, cultivate personal insights, and find meaning and solace, often independent of what’s happening around us. For some, this inner world becomes a source of creativity, peace, and even an alternate reality that feels just as real as the external world.
A few other aspects I’ve observed while retreating into my inner life as a safe haven:
I don’t have to rely exclusively on others for playful exchanges. I can bring playfulness into my own thoughts, creating a wellspring of creativity for my writing and business.
I can pass time with no distractions or entertainment. I’ve typically been someone who kept a quiet home, but I’d be lying if I didn’t like the romanticism and timelessness of being able to pass time contentedly sitting in the park.
What I’m thinking about is rarely profound, what makes it sacred is that it’s wholly mine. Because I’m less dependent on its feedback and stimulus, the world can no longer get to me as easily as it once could.
When you combine my inner life with my self-employment lifestyle, some days are quite in my head. I’ve always preferred a bit of socialization (on my terms) so this can be isolating at times. But I’m truly bringing my unique vision to life, which after several years of feeling frozen in a cubicle after the slightest uncomfortable request, feels liberating.
I try to say this without judgment, BUT: it seems several of my friends haven't gotten to the stage of enlightenment (or isolation LOL!) where they have needed to develop a rich inner life. Sometimes we can still find things to discuss, sometimes we cannot. What this looks like in practice is I’ll describe my shifting perspective on my standing in the social realm or the professional world and my gradual acceptance of that, and they’ll respond by discussing something vaguely materialistic. Again! No judgment! I understand we’re all on our own paths and timelines! Having aspects of my inner life I have chosen to share go unacknowledged makes my entire existence feel minimized. This feels alienating and makes it a bit harder to share the next time. If I don’t feel seen in a conversation, I don’t want to go back. If I don’t go back, I’m gradually interacting with fewer people. In this way, my isolation is chosen as much as it is something put upon me, but it’s in a self-protective sense.
I imagine this piece will resonate with some of you more than others and that’s totally fine. If you handed me this essay 10 years ago I could have responded “cool.” followed by “who are you?” My inner life has become a place where I explore my place in the world, regulate my emotions, and cultivate my creativity. I’d like to find an outside environment where this is recognized and understood, but I trust that will come in time. For now, I don’t care because I’m back on a quiet, leafy block under an overcast sky. Rowhouse fronts are rising between the leaves, comforting and inspiring, just like the world I’ve created within.
Need space to talk?
A few times a month, I hold quiet 1:1 conversations with folks navigating change, isolation, or literally anything.
It’s not therapy or coaching. It’s just real talk.
New: Lake-Effect Coffee
My novella is out! Lake-Effect Coffee is a workplace satire about burnout, friendship, and starting over with a coffee van. If you’ve enjoyed these essays, I think you’ll love it.
You’ve put into words something I think so many of us feel but rarely know how to express, that our inner worlds become places of refuge, even of real joy, when the outer world can’t seem to meet us halfway. And that you’ve learned to cultivate playfulness and creativity within yourself instead of waiting for others to recognize or respond to it. That sense of “isolation by choice,” as you put it, is SO relatable. It’s like you’ve built a world where you’re not just safe, but free to explore and feel completely at home. I appreciate your perspective.
Absolutely yes to a rich inner life as a safe haven. I'm really with you on this!