The Hermit is a solitary person, whether by choice or necessity. Perhaps an aesthete, perhaps a shut-in. Maybe selfishly contemplating his own navel at the expense of social connection, maybe transcending so far beyond herself that interaction with other mortals becomes impossible.
The thing about isolation is that, regardless of how it comes about, one always has the choice of what to do with it: will this retreat be a running from, or a running toward? Is there space in the silence of the empty desert to hear new voices speaking? To turn from the darkness of the cave to the light of mid-day? To become a new voice, holding aloft the lantern and crying out, that others may see a way?
Where are you isolated, by choice or by circumstance? Or do you need to retreat, to find that space and quiet to hear your own thoughts and feel your own feelings, absent the well-intentioned input of so many others? What will you find when you are truly alone with yourself?