There is a peculiar thing about those who walk a path of awakening, a quiet solitude that follows them like a shadow. It is not a loneliness imposed from the outside, but a deep understanding that makes ordinary companionship difficult. Most people are bound together by mutual illusions, by shared dreams of what life is supposed to be. But the moment one sees through the dream, the ties that once held them to others begin to loosen. A person who sees the nature of reality cannot pretend.
They do not chase validation, nor do they seek to belong for the sake of comfort. They are not enchanted by the games of status, gossip or the endless pursuit of things that will one day fade into dust. And this makes them strange to the world. Others may smile at them, exchange pleasantries, even admire them from a distance, but they will not truly connect. The connection, as most know, it, relies on shared illusions, and once one has stepped beyond, there is no returning to that old way of being.
There is an unsettling truth in realizing that most friendships are built on need. People need entertainment, reassurance, a distraction from their own emptiness, but the one who has glimpsed something beyond does not need. In that way. They do not grasp or cling.
They do not engage in relationships that exist merely to fill time or silence. They see beauty in solitude, in the vastness of their own being, and in the quiet space where truth emerges. To those who still live within the framework of the mind, such a person appears distant, perhaps even arrogant, but it is not arrogance, it is simply the absence of the need to perform. To be anything other than what they are, and this makes them difficult to relate to. The world admires the wise from afar, but does not truly wish to know them, for to know them is to risk shattering one's comfortable illusions.
And most people would rather keep their illusions than embrace the unknown. Those who walk this path do not lament their solitude, for they understand that it is not loneliness, but freedom, a freedom that allows them to exist without compromise. To see the world as it is, rather than as it is wished to be. And while the world may see this as having zero friends, the truth is something far greater. The one who has let go of illusions has made peace with everything. There is something profoundly unsettling about seeing the world for what it is.
It is as if a veil has been lifted. And in that moment, everything that once felt certain, solid and familiar, begins to dissolve. The rules that once seemed so absolute. What is good, what is bad, what one should do, how one should live, no longer hold the same weight. And with this shift comes a quiet separation from the world and the people in it. It is not a choice made out of bitterness or resentment, it is not that one wishes to be alone.
Rather, it is the natural consequence of understanding, of seeing through the layers of conditioning that keep most people tethered to the illusions of society. The more one awakens to the truth, the more difficult it becomes to engage in the games that once seemed important. Small talk feels empty, gossip feels like noise. The constant struggle for validation, success and approval appears pointless, a fleeting distraction from something deeper.
Most people do not seek truth. They seek comfort, They seek familiarity. They seek confirmation that the way they are living is right, that their beliefs are correct, that their choices are justified. But the moment one steps beyond this, they are no longer a participant in the collective dream.
They become an outsider not because they have rejected the world, but because the world no longer recognizes them as one of its own. There is an odd paradox in all of this the one who sees beyond illusion does not judge those who remain asleep. There is no anger, no frustration, no superiority on the understanding.
They see why people cling to their beliefs, why they hold on to their routines, why they seek distractions. They understand that most are simply afraid, afraid of the unknown, afraid of letting go, afraid of questioning too deeply.
For fear that everything they have built their identity upon might crumble, and so the awakened one moves differently. They do not force their insights upon others, for they know that truth cannot be given, it must be found. They do not try to convince or argue, for they see that most do not want to be freed, they only want to be reassured.
This creates a distance, not an intentional one, but an inevitable one. Trends drift away.
Conversations become strained, the connections that once felt natural now feel forced. The more one embraces their own awakening, the more they find themselves standing at the edges of the world, watching as others move through life. As if in a dream, there is a temptation to return to the old ways, to try and fit in again, to pretend for the sake of companionship. But once the truth has been seen, it cannot be unseen.
There is no going back. It is not that the awakened person does not care for others, on the contrary. They may feel a deeper love, a greater compassion than ever before. But this love is not personal. It is not based on need, expectation or attachment, it is simply there, flowing like a river, expecting nothing in return.
And yet, because this love does not come with conditions, it is often misunderstood. People expect friendship to come with reassurance, with validation, with participation in the collective dream. And when they do not find this, they assume there is something wrong. That the awakened one is cold, distant or even arrogant. But the truth is far simpler the awakened one does not reject people they simply do not pretend.
They do not force relationships that feel unnatural, they do not engage in conversations that serve no purpose, they do not entertain drama, conflict or emotional games. They do not seek company for the sake of avoiding solitude, because, to them, solitude is not something to be feared. It is not loneliness, it is peace.
This is where the great divide occurs. Most people run from themselves. They fill their days with noise, with distractions, with endless activity to avoid sitting in silence with their own thoughts. But the awakened one has no such fear. They have faced the emptiness within and discovered that it is not emptiness at all, but a vast, limitless space of awareness.
They are not trying to escape themselves, they have come to know themselves fully, and so they do not chase after people, nor do they need to be chased, they simply are. This existence is foreign to many. It is unsettling to be around someone who does not seek anything from you, who does not need your approval, who does not play by the rules of social engagement.
And so, one by one, people drift away. It is not because they dislike the awakened one, but because they do not understand them. They do not know how to relate to someone who does not need validation, who does not engage in superficiality, who does not participate in the silent agreement to pretend. And yet, there is a profound beauty in this solitude. It is not isolation, it is a return to something real.
It is a stepping away from the noise and into the vastness of existence itself. It is a life lived without pretense, without masks, without the constant pressure to be something for someone else. There may be moments of longing, moments where one wishes they could go back, where the old ways seem tempting for the sake of connection. But deep down, the awakened one knows that such connections would be hollow, built not on truth, but on mutual illusion. And so they walk their path alone. Not because they have been cast out, but because they have outgrown the need to belong in a world that does not yet understand itself.
Most people believe that friendships are formed out of deep connection, shared values, and mutual respect. On the surface, this seems true, but when you begin to look deeper, you start to see that most relationships are built on something far more fragile shared illusions. People come together not necessarily because they truly understand each other, but because they validate each other's beliefs, reinforce each other's worldviews, and provide distractions from the deeper questions. They might not want to face. Human beings are social creatures, but this need for connection often stems from a deeper fear of being alone.
People seek friendships to fill space, to avoid silence, to create a sense of belonging in a world that often feels unpredictable and chaotic. They build their relationships on the things they have in common beliefs, interests, routines, but rarely do they stop to question whether these things have any real substance. Friendships are often based on mutual participation in the same reality, whether that reality is built around work, entertainment or cultural expectations. When someone begins to wake up from that reality, they no longer fit within the framework that once held their relationships together. A person who starts to see beyond the surface of life, who questions things deeply, who no longer clings to the same attachments, will naturally begin to notice that the connections they once had start to fade.
It is not because they have changed in some fundamental way that makes them incapable of love or friendship, but because they no longer share the same illusions that once bound them to others. The conversations that once felt engaging now seem repetitive, the dramas that once seemed significant now appear trivial. The endless discussions about status, success and external validation lose their grip. Most friendships are not rooted in truth, but in a mutual agreement to keep certain ideas alive.
People bond over shared complaints, over gossip, over the struggles they face, they bond over their fears, their desires, their ambitions. But what happens when one person no longer plays that game? What happens when someone stops seeing life as a competition, when they stop believing in the necessity of struggle?
When they stop defining themselves through external measures of success, the foundation of those friendships begins to crumble. There is an unspoken rule in human relationships to belong, you must conform, you must play your part.
You must engage in the shared reality that the group has created if you refuse to participate. If you no longer find meaning in the things that others do, you become an outsider. Not because you have rejected them, but because they no longer know how to relate to you. A person who begins to wake up often finds that they can no longer engage in the same conversations without feeling disconnected. They see that many discussions are simply ways to avoid deeper truths.
People talking just to fill silence, people gossiping to avoid looking at their own lives, people complaining about the world without ever questioning their own role in it. And when they stop participating in these patterns, they find themselves alone. This solitude is not necessarily a painful thing.
At first, it may feel unsettling because the loss of companionship can feel like a kind of rejection, but over time it becomes clear that this is not rejection at all. It is simply the natural effect of moving beyond the illusions that once created those connections. Most people want to be heard, but very few want to listen.
Most people want support, but very few want to be challenged. They want to be surrounded by those who make them feel comfortable, not those who force them to question themselves. And so when a person begins to see through the layers of illusion that make up the social world, they stop providing the comfort that others see. They become something else entirely. Not an enemy, not a friend.
But something unsettling, something that does not fit into the established roles. This is why those who awaken often find that they have fewer and fewer friends. It is not because they do not love or because they do not care.
It is because they do not pretend they do not engage in relationships that exist merely to reinforce illusions. They do not provide the false sense of security that many people crave. Instead, they exist in a space of truth, and truth is something that many people find difficult to face.
This is not to say that all relationships are meaningless, or that all human connection is based on illusion. There are rare friendships, rare bonds that transcend the usual dynamics of social interaction. These are the relationships built on something deeper than shared beliefs or common interests.
They are built on mutual recognition, on a profound understanding that goes beyond words, but these kinds of relationships are rare and they cannot be forced. They emerge only when both individuals have reached a level of awareness where they no longer need anything from each other. Where they are simply present with one another, without expectation or illusion.
For most, however, friendships serve as a way to maintain the status quo. They are built on convenience, on shared distractions, on the silent agreement to keep reality at bay. When one person in the friendship begins to see beyond this, the relationship inevitably begins to dissolve. Not because there is conflict, but because there is no longer anything holding it together. This is why the chosen ones often walk alone.
They do not cling to relationships for the sake of having them, they do not force conversations that feel empty. They do not participate in the endless cycle of validation and reassurance that most friendships require. Instead, they accept solitude not as a burden, but as a natural state of being. They understand that true connection is rare.
And that most relationships are temporary, existing only for as long as both individuals remain in the same illusion. And so the awakened one moves through the world without attachment. They do not mourn the friendships that have faded, for they see that those relationships were never truly about connection, but about shared perception. They do not chase after companionship, for they know that what is real will always find its way to them in its own time. They do not seek to fit in, for they have realized that there is nothing to fit into.
There is a peace in this understanding, a deep sense of freedom. While others may see their solitude as loneliness, the awakened one knows better. They see that most people are never truly alone, yet they feel more lost than ever. They fill their lives with people, with conversations, with endless social interactions, yet they still feel empty inside. But the one who has let go of illusion does not need to fill this space with others.
They have come to know themselves, and in doing so, they have found the only companionship that truly matters. Human relationships are built on a delicate balance of shared experiences, mutual understanding, and a subconscious need for validation. Most people seek companionship not only for the joy of connection, but also for the comfort of reinforcement. They want to be surrounded by those who affirm their beliefs, validate their emotions, and provide a sense of belonging in a vast, uncertain world. This is why social circles often consist of individuals who think alike, act alike, and live within the same set of mental constructs.
When someone begins to walk a path that diverges from the conventional. When they start questioning the norms, when they stop engaging in the social rituals that once made them feel included, they disrupt this balance. They become different, not in the external sense of appearance or lifestyle, but in their very way of being. Their presence alone becomes a silent challenge to those around them, and this is often enough to push people away. People are drawn to what is familiar, to what reassures them that they are on the right path. When someone steps outside of that familiar framework, they become an anomaly, something that cannot easily be categorized or understood.
This makes them unsettling, not because they intend to be, but because they no longer fit into the structure that others have unconsciously agreed to uphold. In social dynamics, there is often an unspoken contract. We will support each other's views, we will reinforce each other's narratives, and we will engage in the same emotional patterns. But when one person stops participating in this exchange, they disrupt the flow.
They no longer play along with the expectations, they no longer react in the same way, they no longer seek validation from the same sources. This is deeply unsettling to those who are still caught in the cycle of seeking approval and belonging. When a person starts to detach from the need for validation, they stop playing the game that most people are deeply invested in.
They no longer need to be right in an argument, they no longer feel the urge to prove themselves, they no longer seek recognition or approval. Their energy shifts from external validation to internal peace, and this shift makes them incompatible with the social dynamics that most people rely on. For a sense of self validation is the glue that holds many relationships together.
People seek friends who make them feel good about themselves, who reaffirm their identities, who provide comfort in times of doubt. When someone no longer engages in this exchange, they are perceived as distant, uninterested, or even cold. But in reality, they are simply no longer feeding the patterns of reassurance that most relationships require. Imagine a scenario where a group of people constantly seek validation from one another, engaging in conversations that revolve around shared struggles, mutual complaints, and collective desires. Now, imagine one individual within that group no longer seeks the same validation.
They listen, but they do not react in the expected ways. They do not engage in unnecessary drama, they do not offer empty words of encouragement, nor do they echo the same frustrations. They are present. But they do not participate in the emotional exchanges that others depend on. To those still caught in the cycle, this behavior can feel unsettling.
They may perceive the individual as distant, disconnected or even arrogant. They may feel as though they are being judged, even when no judgment is present. They may feel exposed as if their own reliance on validation has suddenly been made visible. And so, instead of embracing this presence as an opportunity for growth, they distance themselves. They seek out those who will continue to provide the familiar sense of validation they are accustomed to.
The absence of validation creates discomfort, not because it is harmful, but because it forces people to confront their own dependence on external approval. It reveals how much of their sense of self has been shaped by the reflections they receive from others. When someone no longer participates in this cycle, it leaves a void, a void that many would rather avoid than explore. This is why those who walk a path of awareness often find themselves alone. It is not because they do not care.
It is not because they do not love, it is because they no longer feed the patterns that most relationships are built upon. They no longer offer the same reassurances, they no longer mirror back the identities that others have created for themselves. They exist in a space of neutrality, of quiet understanding, of deep presence.
And for many, this is uncomfortable. Most people do not seek truth in their relationships, They seek comfort, They seek familiarity, recognition, and the reinforcement of their existing beliefs. When someone stops providing these things, they are perceived as an outsider, as someone who does not belong.
Not because they have done anything wrong, but because they no longer fit within the framework of expectation. This is the paradox of awakening. The more one sees, the less they need, the more one understands. The less they seek validation, and the less they seek validation, the fewer connections they maintain.
Not out of bitterness, not out of rejection, but simply because most relationships require a mutual participation in illusion. But for those who have stepped beyond this, solitude is not a punishment. It is not loneliness in the way most people understand it. It is simply a natural consequence of no longer being bound by the need for validation. It is a quiet liberation, a space of inner peace, where relationships are no longer based on dependency, but on true recognition.
When a person reaches this state, they no longer fear solitude. They do not seek companionship for the sake of filling a void. They do not engage in friendships that require them to be anything other than what they truly are. They move through the world without the need to be seen, without the need to be understood, without the need to be accepted. And in this, they find a kind of freedom that most will never experience.
The way people interact is largely dictated by the structures they have built around their lives. Society operates on a network of unspoken rules, habits, and expectations that maintain a certain level of predictability. People feel comfortable when they know what to expect from others, when behaviors align with shared norms, and when interactions follow familiar patterns. This creates a sense of security, a feeling that the world is ordered and comprehensible. When someone begins to operate outside of these patterns, they become an anomaly.
They disrupt the predictability that most people rely on for social harmony. They no longer react in the expected ways, they no longer engage in the same conversations, and they no longer conform to the silent agreements that hold social circles together. This change, though subtle, is deeply unsettling to those who remain attached to the structures that define their reality.
Most relationships are built on a set of mutual reinforcements people bond over shared beliefs, common struggles, and similar life perspectives. When someone challenges these structures, not through direct confrontation, but merely by no longer participating in them, they inadvertently disturb the foundation upon which these relationships are built. Those who once felt understood now feel disconnected, as if the language they have spoken all their lives is suddenly being met with silence. This is not because the individual has become distant or unkind, but because they have stepped outside of the patterns that most people unconsciously operate within.
They no longer seek validation through common struggles. They do not reinforce the narratives that others rely on for identity, and they do not engage in emotional exchanges that are based on a need for approval or reassurance. Their presence alone becomes a silent reminder that there is another way to exist, a way that does not depend on external confirmation. For those still attached to social structures, this can feel alienating.
It can feel as though they are being left behind, as though the one who has changed is no longer accessible. In the same way, they may feel as though they have lost a sense of familiarity, a shared connection that once gave them comfort. And rather than question their own attachment to these structures, they often distance themselves from the one who no longer plays along. This distancing is not always intentional.
It happens subtly, through small changes in interaction. Through gradual fading of connection, conversations become shorter, invitations become fewer, and the warmth of familiarity is replaced by an unspoken discomfort. It is not a matter of dislike or resentment, but rather a fundamental difference in the way reality is perceived and engaged with. To the one who has stepped outside of these structures, this shift is neither surprising nor painful. They see it for what it is a natural consequence of no longer fitting into a world that requires constant participation in shared illusions.
They do not resist it, nor do they try to force connections that no longer hold meaning. They understand that relationships built on mutual reinforcement cannot survive when one person no longer needs that reinforcement. What remains is a profound solitude, not born of rejection, but of transformation. This solitude is not a void to be filled, nor is it a source of suffering. It is simply a space of being, a space where interactions are no longer dictated by unconscious agreements, but by genuine resonance.
In this space, friendships may still exist, but they are rare. They are no longer based on a need for validation or belonging, but on a deeper recognition that transcends social structures. This is why those who step outside of conventional social patterns often find themselves alone. It is not because they are unlovable, nor because they lack the ability to connect. It is because most relationships require participation in a shared system, a system that they have chosen to no longer engage with.
They are no longer bound by the need to fit in, to be understood, to be accepted. They exist in a space of freedom that most people cannot comprehend, and in this freedom, solitude is not a burden, but a natural state of being.