Solitude

The story behind  Solitude

This is one of my early works. Looking at it now is like gazing into a mirror, revealing the contours of my mind against a dark backdrop. The genderless figure, curled inward and facing away, universally embodies self-protection, contemplation, and retreat—the very essence of solitude.

For me, solitude is a deeply personal journey inward, a voluntary endeavor to reflect and to delve into my world, contemplating the intricate workings of reality and its perception. While some might perceive lingering in solitude as a sign of depression (and perhaps it is), I value my chosen solitude as a sanctuary. It's a private space to reflect, to visualize, and to find immense enrichment and artistic inspiration. Only in this state of mind can I truly create. This mental and emotional departure is inextricably linked to my past—to the scars left on my psyche by chaotic childhood experiences, particularly the discrimination I endured in my family. I believe these very circumstances poured the foundation of who I am, effectively mapping my future.

It's fascinating to imagine what my life would be like if my upbringing had been different. If my childhood had been more harmonious, would I still possess the character traits of an INFJ? Would I be the person I am today? Discovering my INFJ personality type about 20 years ago was an astonishing revelation that put my entire life into proper context and gave perspective to what I had endured. It elevated my self-awareness to a much higher level, helping me make a conscious effort to become whole, guiding me through a process akin to Jung's concept of individuation.

If I had a more harmonious childhood, would I still possess the altruistic drive and determination to change the world, qualities that I believe stemmed directly from being discriminated against? Would I also be willing to sacrifice many good things in my life to achieve what I believed was right? For example, getting involved in political activism at a very young age and losing many opportunities.

Like everyone else, my early life profoundly shaped my personality, which in turn reinforced my decisions and propelled me down a path that ultimately forged who I am. I sacrificed personal happiness for ideals. Now, looking back, I'm confronted with a poignant choice: would I prefer to have been a happy child and become a different person, living a more materialistic life and simply going with the flow, or to be the person I have become? This is truly a dilemma, a puzzling notion that sometimes is emotionally draining.

I believe happiness is a state of mind more than anything else—a mental construct of our psyche based on values bestowed upon us by societal norms. The problem is, we usually don't get a chance to define happiness for ourselves; often, we're blind to truly seeing it. That's because social norms and acceptable values create a frame we desperately attempt to fit into all our lives, suppressing our inner selves to perpetuate this imposed veneer.