A lesson in human connection
My town is not famous for much, but it is famous for having a HUGE staircase running from pretty much sea level to the top of something that could fairly be described as a mountain. It’s really seven or eight linked staircases, with rocky gaps between each set of stairs.
I was out yesterday, hiking all over the cliffs. It was hot, and I was getting increasingly tired, but I was at the bottom of what could only be described as a “U”: no matter which direction I went in, I’d have to climb up out of the valley. So I chose the stairs.
This was a mistake. About half-way up, I was weak; sweat and sunscreen were spilling into my eyes. I thought, I am not going to make it. I had visions of being rescued by helicopter, or water dogs, or a team of police. These thoughts were mortifying, but I could…not…keep…climbing.
So I collapsed into a bunch of bushes beside the steps and sat there gasping for breath. What was I going to do? And then this very nice woman (who was also out of breath) stopped on the stairs to chat with me. I was down on the ground, looking like the dog’s breakfast, but she didn’t comment on this. She just began to talk about the hot day, and the cruelty of the steps, and how out of shape she was, and so on.
And as she talked I began to feel my heart rate slow down. I’ve read so much on human interaction and physiology, and I began to think, “I’m in a social psychology experiment!” The longer the woman talked, the better I felt. My breathing returned to normal, the sweat seemed to ebb, and it seemed as though my legs might actually begin to function again.
The woman moved on, and I let her go, but I found that the effect of our conversation was to give me the energy and reassurance I needed to continue climbing. The talk left me feeling less freaked out and exhausted–and this was just a casual chat with a stranger. But I think it was exactly what I needed right then–not just rest, but communication.
The episode made me think again of how awful and sick and anxious I was during the years I write about in Lonely, and about how social isolation might still be affecting me today. If that little episode on the steps taught me anything, it’s that the social interaction studies are right on target: we need people around us, and their presence or absence can affect us in profound ways.
This entry was posted on Thursday, August 26th, 2010 at 9:17 am and is filed under the category Effects of Loneliness, Long-term Loneliness, Social Isolation.
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11 Responses to “A lesson in human connection”
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I’ve come to doubt my instincts about the things that could change my loneliness, from greater self-confidence to exercise. But even the occasional presence of other people, especially strangers whose behaviour towards me is entirely natural and not influenced by prior knowledge or hearsay. Those stress-free conversations are wonderful and too rare. I have to believe that having a reliable source of those more regularly would make many of the scarier things seem much less daunting.
I think studies have shown that people who are married tend to live longer than single people. That in and of itself is rather depressing. I simply know that LIFE is totally different living alone than when I was growing up with my then nuclear family of two parents and a sister.
I feel as if something is supposed to change for the better now and that this is just a temporary state. When I was young I figured that is how life is supposed to be – i. e. living and being with those you love – and having that one singular base or foundation of total support and caring from which everything else evolved.
I agree entirely–when I feel I just can’t take the painful and anxiety-laden breed of loneliness I have, a “random act of (conversational) kindness” has saved me on more than one occasion. When I was younger, unsolicited hugs from friends had the same calming effect (now I perceive those as “forced” and I feel “pressured” to enjoy them).
This almost sounds like one of my anxiety attacks!
The worrying tends to get way out of proportion, and distractions are often helpful, because they take one’s mind off the situation.
Loneliness isnt just being alone,you can have a husband and kids, but the loneliness i get is when Im at the school dropping my children off and wondering whats wrong with me that people wont/dont say hello,four years on and its still disheartening that I have to be the first to say hello otherwise no one speaks.I read an excerpt from your book,and i too did the checklist on myself.When a stranger says hello it lifts my spirits and makes me feel maybe Im not so bad afterall.
Its very deep thinking, but I have always believed we live off each other, like sucking life out of each other?, some people readily talk to me one minute, and not the next, a bit like a bee gathering nectar, and back to the hive, and I must admit, I am the same, that little bit of conversation feeds something inside me, allowing me to survive just that little bit longer.
I really do not know who is stronger, those with a fantastic circle of friends, or those with none?, certainly, we do hear of so many celebrities that suddenly come crashing down from great heights, and they are the ones with a great circle of so called friends, they are the ones with the wealth, fine living and clothes, cameras flashing, even our neighbours, who seem to live that lifestyle, that leaves us feeling, “why not me?”, they , unfortunately, have problems.
“Get off that tiger”, that’s the way I see it, those who are in the thick of friendships, and we all see them, and perhaps a little jealous, and wishing we were there, when? and how? they get off that tiger, “wham”, loneliness hits like a bolt from the blue, I am a guy, and have always been lonely, it hurts, its a devastating feeling, and admit I suck the life out of anyone who should care to converse, because it helps me to survive!, am I wrong?
Remember to say “hi” to everyone tomorrow, and call by your elderly neighbour, just to see they aint died a month ago, they may look at you funny, but the short conversation could help you survive a bit longer!, happiness is smile shaped.
Ha ha, do I sound weird?, i hope not, I said deep thinking!!!
I have a generalized anxiety disorder. Anxiety and panic can strike me at any given time or place with no rhyme or reason.
The first time it happened to me, I was in the grocery store. It was midnight and fairly empty (so no social anxiety issues). Suddenly, standing over the apples, I thought i was having a heart attack. All that rolled in my brain was…I’m only 30, I can’t have a heart attack at this age.
I must have looked awful because another shopper stopped and asked if I was ok. I said I was ( big fat liar), he accepted this with a bit of a sideways glance. He then started discussing the apples–how he was really bored with eating the same kind all the time and what kind did I like best?
This conversation got me out of my head, my breathing slowed, and this man walked away with two of each apple I recommended! I never did have a chance to thank him, but now when I see someone with “that” look on their face, I try to pay it forward by making some simple conversation with them in hopes that it will help.
@ Michelle: Thanks for sharing this story!
From the above comments I am again propelled toward the idea of community – where we can at ramdom run into people who know us, who will converse with us – to divert us from our stark unhappy loneliness. Again I recommend “We, The Lonely People” by Ralph Keyes.
I believe that deeply lonely people are actually more sensitive and responsive to these moments of seemingly casual connection, and this is a hidden gift of loneliness. I believe that we have the capacity to value fleeting kindnesses, fleeting commonalities, fleeting sympathy, as others do not. We all know the sort of response Emily White had to the woman she encountered hiking: we know what it is to live those moments with disproportionate depth, yet without the conventional *single* person’s hope that something will come of it–we just experience momentary connection at a higher volume than other people do, and then let it go. I think this is why I was happy working at a bookstore–my day was a stream of controlled, fleeting connections.
I was just getting ready to e-mail you feedback about Lonely. Just read it and have to offer you my sincerest regards for the courage and conviction it took to complete that work, not only in terms of self disclosure but the massive amount of research and, no doubt, financial and professioanl sacrifice. A job well done indeed! You’ve no doubt helped a lot of people come to terms with facing their own loneliness.
On an unrelated note to your exemplary writing and research, it’s quite obvious from your cursory book notes and your blog entries that you don’y think too highly of NL. I nearly fell off the chair when I read the opening line for this entry, “My town is not famous for much…” How long have you been here? I am deeply disappointed that your highly tuned research skills would not have extended to learning about your new-found-home. Maybe your next book project could be to make the connections between loneliness, geograhy, sense of place, and hospitality. You would need look no further than your own backyard for research subjects sure to be willing to help out.
Keep up the excellent work on loneliness awareness and try and either conceal your disdain for this remote province or use it as fodder for your next book.