How far do you need to travel to find your own private spot?

Back in India I used to go to the terrace of my house as soon as darkness comes over. There was no pollution or reflections from city lights, the night sky would be lit up with stars and it was a wonderful feeling to lie down under the stars. Nowadays its my bedroom balcony or kitchen.

Usually 0 inches.

I have a feline roommate, but she loves the outdoors.

My bedroom is my private place. No one will bother me, in there. And I stay up a lot later than everyone else.

Not far these days. My kids have left home bar one and we have living spaces at either end of the house. While the whole family congregates down one end when we’re all here, often there’s just two of us in this room (or just me) and if I do need to escape, I can go to my bedroom or a few places outside.

My imaginary world. No one can get access to it ever.

I’m too boorish to require solitude. I can fall asleep standing up in a cattle stampede.

My favorite private spot at home is my upstairs guest room, which I use as nap room. No place in the house more private and peaceful than that little room, especially on a chilly, rainy day.

My fiancé is also an introvert, and my son is a self-sufficient young adult, so he’s usually doing his own thing. Our cats create the most drama in our household, because they don’t get along. So I rarely get to that point.

When I had more stress and activity and drama in my life, I would go for drives when I was really pushing my breaking point. A nice long bath or shower would usually help, too.

I have a fairly long commute (1 to 2 hours each way). As such, my car is often my private spot.

I can think clearly in there, listen to whatever music or podcast I want — I’ll even park somewhere quiet and take a nap (I keep a pillow and blanket in my car).

@cookieman – Yes, my commute was also “me” time when my son was young. That is why, when I was out of work, I’d get in the car and drive.

My wife, 3 young kids, a puppy, and I all share a small 1100 sq ft house with 1 bathroom. No garage. The closest I get to a private spot would have to be in my car, I suppose.

I am so lucky. Most of the time my entire house is my private spot. Even with a house guest or two, we have lots of choices for public vs. private areas, plus 20 acres of land.

Milo has more choices: 1 2
3

A very short walk to the woods behind my chambers.

My room, and it’s just like how @AshLeigh described hers.
In Tampa, there’d be a waterfront park across the river on the downtown side that my friends and I would go to at night. The only other people there were sleeping, so it was quiet, but with a feint sound of cars. It was dark, but not too dark since the city lights gave off some light.

My wife and I watch over our empty nest, but she works during the day and my mobility is quite limited. My chair and I are one. At night I can hear the house pine for little feet to run her halls once more.

All I have to do is walk out on the dock and board my boat, then take my private spot wherever I wish.

There are many places that afford both the elements necessary for life support and the ultimate in privacy. One of the closest places from my present position on the Yucatan, that fit this criteria, is an island off the southern coast of Hispaniola, just 24 miles SSW of Cabo Beata, Isla Alto Velo. It’s uninhabited, far enough out of shipping lanes and tourism to ensure isolation. About a half mile long and a half mile wide, the land rises from sea level to almost 500 ft. at it’s southern end. It has a fresh water source and is surrounded by pretty little coves and live coral reefs rich in seafood, and as a “guano island,” it’s soil is some of the richest in the world with an annual rainfall to support a large garden. It will support a small population of chickens and, with the introduction of the right grasses, a few goats, or sheep. There is a constant breeze to provide electrical power. it’s missing large deciduous trees, but will support them. Nearby modern Isla Beata, only 12nm NNE—just an hour under sail—is good for replenishing supplies. A dwelling, or a proper home, can be made into the side of the southern rise with an outer, expendable extension of rooms and windows in cantilever fashion overlooking the Caribbean as it buries the rocks below in it’s waves. Consider this portion of the house expendable due to hurricanes and magnificent storms.

Sadly, like all places on earth today, it is owned and controlled by a nation-state; in this case the Dominican Republic—not one of my favorite governments. But, since everything else in the DR is for sale, this little eden could probably be had for the right price. The problem is that you can’t trust the government to honor such contracts from one administration to the next. So… It is a nice place to visit and tent upon, spend a couple of weeks eating and sleeping well in this quiet place, unmolested by the maddening crowds and the avalanche of neuroses and over-blown bagatelles they bring with them.

I’ve just been reminded that closest of all is just a couple of kilometers away from where I am now, deeper into the jungle, along foot paths that inevitably bring you through many small Mayan ruins that have the benefit of not being interesting enough for anthropologist, tourists, or locals, and therefore provide solitude among crumbling temples and ancient dwellings. It’s a nice way to spend an afternoon or, it you bring some food and a sleeping mat, you can spend the night flat on your back atop a small temple staring at an unpolluted night sky the likes of which not many modern people have ever seen or ever will.

My workout room. Working out alone at 5AM is really the only alone time I get unless you count shutting my office door for an hour at lunch, but I enjoy it. I never really feel the need to be alone any other time. No kids yet, so I’m sure that’ll change.

I go to a meditation room in church or university. Flick off all the light and turn on the A/C.

30 feet to my library. I just have to make sure the doors are shut to keep the dog out.

160 miles. Northern Nevada where my grandfather had a silver mining operation. Remote. Quiet. Secluded!