American philosopher Henry David Thoreau wrote those two sentences in his work Walden, in 1854. A deep reflection on the solitary life and the absolute need for self-examination and awareness, the writer spent two years living on his own in a log cabin beside a pond near Concord, Massachusetts, attempting to be self-reliant and at one with the world.

The thoughts of an American transcendentalist of 170 years ago might seem far from our modern sensibilities and needs, but if the modern pandemic and the exigencies forced on us, if the constant news cycle has given us anything valuable, it's the chance to stop and think; to take advantage of the opportunity of peace and quiet.

Solitude and loneliness can be bound together, but they are two separate and distinct qualities. Loneliness is distressing. The feeling of being alone, or the actual physical existence of having no person one can feel comfortable unburdening thoughts to, is after a time utterly painful. It's damaging mentally and increasingly it's understood to have severe physical effects over time as well.

Loneliness is not a modern affliction, but its effects are multiplied in world where value is increasingly attached to recognition, to being lauded for the smallest things. The pain of being alone and ignored is cauterizing; it cuts off joy to the heart, it embitters and destroys.

In this time, we should do what we can can to reach out to the lonely, as restricted as we. Write a letter and leave it in a letterbox. Make that difficult phone call. Say a suitably physically-distanced 'hello' to a neighbour or a stranger.

But make time to enjoy being alone now, too. Being truly with yourself.

Solitude can be cultivated. Sitting, standing, lying, kneeling with your own thoughts, and examining them carefully, can result in great solace and understanding of your own and other people's actions. The word solace, to give or receive comfort in a time of grief, to console or allay pain, is especially relevant in the situation we find ourselves now. To be alone, but not lonely.

"I gave infinitely more importance to the opinions of men, and the little wants of this transitory existence, than they deserved," wrote Jean Jacques Rousseau, meditating on the prizes of thought while walking.

Solace and solitude. A chance to reflect on what is truly necessary for the soul and what is simply the desire of the flesh, whatever those nebulous ideas might mean. In real and concrete terms though: when we are denied the ability to purchase and consume, to socialise, to move freely, to do what we want - what do we look to within ourselves? How do we think within ourselves?

People can become angry, frustrated, vicious. "We are destroying our way of life with these shutdowns; we'll be paying for it for generations," blissfully unaware that money and resources are two different things entirely, and that it is impossible to shift financial burdens onto the future, because they would simply keep being moved forward. How did we pay for the massive burden of World War II? We rolled over debt, the economy revived.

People become scared. "There are busloads of Asians raiding our supermarkets. I know because, though there is no evidence, no photographs at all, someone's uncle's brother's cousin's next-door-neighbour heard it from the internet." Conspiracy theories abound: the coronavirus was released deliberately; it's spread by 5G; the deep state is withholding the vaccine and toilet paper.

Sadly, people despair. Some have good reason. Many, many jobs have been lost for now, and some forever. There is a mortal threat to the elderly and the immuno-compromised. There is still so much we don't understand about zoonotic diseases, where they come from and why they spread so quickly and are so resilient. The system of justice seems weighted to the rich and powerful.

But none of this anger, fear or sadness can change the immediate present. We have an unexpected, small gift: the chance to be still for a time, to be alone with ourselves, to be contemplative. If we can bring ourselves to revel in this knowledge for just a while, we will bring a new energy to the other side of this time. Perhaps we will understand and value compassion more fervently; be less swift to judge another. They are after all, our reflection.