We are living in dark and ominous times. Uncertainty, like a thick fog, blankets everything from our daily routines to our very sense of self.
But while much of the world scrambles for answers, many are making a lethal mistake. We’re not just distancing physically—we’re walling off emotionally. Cocooning. Numbing. Cordoning ourselves off from others under the illusion of self-preservation.
I see it every day.
People perform their solo rituals with pride: “I went on a nature walk this morning. It was glorious!” they beam, as if that solitary communion with trees was the balm for all societal wounds. Or, “I’ve stopped watching the news—it’s all just negative energy.” They wear this as a badge of honor, failing to see the arrogance in not wanting to face what others are being crushed under.
These behaviors aren’t always toxic in themselves. But when they become habitual excuses to disengage, to avoid the raw, messy business of human connection—they are dangerous.
There’s No Reply at All
Like a Mother Hen, it’s in my DNA to check in on people. I make the calls. I send the texts. I leave voicemails just to say, “Hey, you crossed my mind. How are you really doing?”
More often than not, I hear nothing back. Radio silence.
Phil Collins’ haunting line from his days with the group Genesis plays on loop in my head: “There’s no reply at all.”
I’m not saying this to guilt anyone. I do it because connection is the essence of my existence.
And to be honest, sometimes I do it for me. Because if it weren’t for the relentless inner work I’ve done—meditation, qigong, letting go, sitting with silence—I’d be a very depressed and lonely man.
I’ve had to learn not to take the lack of response personally. But make no mistake, it stings. Because deep down, I believe we’re meant to support and nurture relationships with one another. Not just through the easy days, but especially through the long, dark nights of the soul.
The Eastern Mirror: What Are We Running From?
In Buddhism, there’s a word: dukkha. It’s often translated as “suffering,” but the deeper, more visceral meaning is “hard to face.”
Psychiatrist and Buddhist practitioner Mark Epstein writes in The Trauma of Everyday Life that dukkha is not just the result of catastrophic events. It’s baked into the mundane—the quiet grief of being human, the disconnection we try so hard to avoid.
We’re living in a time when many of us only want what is true and pleasant. Anything unpleasant gets filtered out, unfollowed, or muted.
But when we hide in our foxholes, waiting for the world to get back to “normal,” we’re not protecting ourselves—we’re starving our psyches. Eastern philosophy reminds us that what we resist, persists. And loneliness, unchecked, metastasizes. Not just into depression, but into apathy, anxiety, and a complete atrophy of the human spirit.
The Danger of the Bubble
When we remain in our own curated bubbles, we lose the friction, the beauty, and yes—the pain—of relationships. We forget how to see others. How to truly be seen.
Solitude, when chosen wisely, can be sacred. But isolation disguised as “self-care” becomes a cage.
We are relational beings. Our nervous systems are wired for connection. Taoism teaches the principle of wu wei, or effortless action—not through withdrawal, but by harmonizing with the flow of life.
I believe that this flow of life right now is calling us not to retreat, but to rise—to reach out, to risk vulnerability, and to keep our humanity intact, even when it feels easier to disappear.
Five Taoist Dog Treats for Rising Above Isolation
⭕️ Reach Out Without Expectation
Call someone today without expecting a reply. Do it as an offering. Taoism reminds us to release attachment to outcome. Just planting the seed of care shifts the collective energy.
⭕️ Make Peace With Discomfort
Practice being with what’s “hard to face.” Read the news mindfully. Talk to friends about real issues. Don’t flinch from the suffering—witness it. That’s how compassion is born.
⭕️ Turn Solitude Into Ceremony
Light a candle. Say someone’s name. Write a handwritten note. Make your moments alone sacred, not escapist. Solitude should expand the heart, not shrink it.
⭕️ Be The Bridge
If you’re someone who values connection, be that connection. Host a Zoom tea chat. Invite someone for a walk. Leave a voice message full of love. Someone’s soul might be waiting for it.
⭕️ Accept, Then Act
The Tao reminds us… don’t force the river. Accept what is—but don’t use that as a reason to stop showing up. From acceptance comes wise, fluid action. Keep extending the hand.
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In these times, connection isn’t just a luxury—it’s a lifeline. Let us not sleepwalk through our disconnection, mistaking aloneness for enlightenment. Because if we’re not showing up for each other now, when the sky is dark and storm clouds gather—then when will we?
The answer might just be: never.
And I refuse to live in that world.
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Diamond Michael Scott
aka The Chocolate Taoist
You keep on hitting me right where I live, D-M. Thank you. I’ve only recently begun reading the Sunday NYT again, after going cold turkey on 11/6. Thank you for encouraging me to read it mindfully, and be with those who are suffering. Worthy life goals.
This. “isolation disguised as “self-care” becomes a cage.”