You cannot read a book with your nose pressed against the page. You cannot see a painting while standing an inch from the canvas. And you cannot understand your life, or the world you live in, while drowning in its noise and demands.

Camus wrote these words while reflecting on his need for solitude, for what he called “the deep breath in which the mind collects itself.” He was not advocating for permanent withdrawal or monastic isolation. The goal is not to leave the world behind but to return to it with clearer eyes.

Think of how you gain perspective on a difficult relationship only after some time apart. Or how the shape of your career becomes visible only when you step back from the daily grind. Immersion has its place, but so does distance. We need both the close work and the long view.

This is not escapism. The person who never pauses to reflect is not more engaged with reality; they are merely more reactive, more automatic, less conscious. The moments of turning away are precisely what allow us to turn back with genuine understanding rather than mere habit.

Schedule your retreats. Guard your solitude. Not to abandon the world, but to see it more clearly when you return.