I moved house recently to a bigger place with a high wall in front on my house. I thought, great, privacy, I can do yoga out the front and sit in my Pj's drinking coffee. Then I started to miss the comings and goings of living on a terraced street. I soon began to feel the aches, and esp being home recovering from surgery and not being able to drive for weeks. I asked my doc for antidepressants, she said to treat the isolation first. I've let out two rooms to students now and have been sleeping better just knowing there's people in the house and the chats about their days. I bought a season ticket to my nearby cinema and have adopted going for a walk every evening after dinner. Meeting people I didn't even know were my neighbours. I also joined a choir, singing with 130 people really lifts your spirits. At this moment, I'm happy sitting looking out the window, but will soon leave the house to go be in the world. We can make small changes, like you say, smile and say hello. 👋
I truly appreciate you sharing your experience of engaging with the world. It's a fascinating area of practice, as you highlight with your many illustrations. You're proof that not only is connection necessary for our well-being, but it's also possible. I like that: "small changes."
Thank you, Ryan. Playing second to a screen is an especially cutting pain that most of us experience on the daily. Stop the madness before it kills us with loneliness!
I did a social experiment once upon a time ago when I lived in an enormous condo complex in Los Angeles. I had a question in mind. Does everyone want to feel so isolated when there are so many people here? thousands of people living within walking distance and it was bigger than the entire town i grew up in.
I realized how lonely I felt, even though i lived in a city with millions. I wondered when the last time was that I didn't feel lonely...and it was in university with dorm room doors wide open and little notepads on the door to tell people you stopped by. it was when you had groups of friends who would wander out to the fountain together or run into each other and start a conversation.
I started leaving my door open to my condo. I opened up doors for others, I carried groceries for people. I hung out in the pool area. I said hi. Little by little neighbors started leaving doors open. We started having sunday barbeque, cocktail hours after work, we started exchanging books. People even started watching each others kids so a single mom could run out to do errands on her own.
We all lived one door away from each other an no one spoke to that point. It took a weirdo. me. To start opening my door and making an effort. Having people over for a beer after work. offering a book, opening a door even though it meant me standing in a hallway for an extra 30 seconds for someone else to catch up with their arms full. And people started to reciprocate.
I saw this—No one wanted to START it. No one wanted that awkward moment of feeling a mini rejection or feeling like they were imposing on someone else. . Everyone had gotten used to avoiding eye contact, rushing ahead. or looking down at the screen so they didn't feel uncomfortable. I met retired couples who shared their wisdom from their life, I made friends with a talented animator who was my next door neighbor. I made a best friend who would go to random shops with me along the beach that only tourists would visit.
No one wants to be lonely. but it's those willing to put the phone down. ask meaningful question, and leave the door open that puts others at ease. Everyone is deeply hungry for connection. But its actually that when we are willing to put ourselves out there, smile in the mirror. the mirror smiles back. Also yeah, everybody put your damn phone down. It literally starts with us. each person. individually, making that choice to be a little awkward and say, fuck it, it's better than zombieville.
This is so awesome, Megan. Reading this leaves me feeling alive and happy. There are so many wisdom gems in here, including people hungering for connection, the fear and need of risking rejection, and no one wanting to initiate, but once someone does, people say, "Hell yeah!" It's the same in my area. It's not that people are unfriendly, but that they are fearful. Once you talk to them, they're delighted to connect. So glad you took the time to share this with all of us.
Looking forward to reading your latest newsletter on this topic!
appreciate that you took the time to read along. Thank you! and thank you for brining up the incredibly important topic of lonliness. I ended up editing and posting to my audience. it definitely inspired me to share. Big hug from peru
Ryan, this was so sobering and what I think is the most important issue of our time. You describe it so well: capturing that moment when once in a while, there is the beauty of the "spell" breaking and there is connection between us and, as you correctly say, we both end up leaving "lighter". It IS as if Covid allowed us to to act as though we will avoid each other, indefinitely. It is so very sad. It is what I write about every day, because like you, I am astonished and ask myself the question you pose: "When did being together begin to feel so unnatural?"
I couldn't agree more with you, Gayle, especially the part about losing the ability to socialize and connect. It's a massive challenge, not just individually but collectively, as we're witnessing daily with the ongoing violence. One of the first insights I had when I began meditating was how social humans are. Each year, I see that we are even more social than I previously thought. Thanks for taking the time to share this.
Your comment makes my dad, Mike. I know how much you appreciate people. I've been feeling anxious and uneasy all afternoon after reading a shame and blame email from a family member. So, your comment is welcome!
It's not just the younger generations, besieged by technology, that are suffering this isolation. I've come to believe that isolation is powerful and deadly, but connection can do so much heavy lifting to offset the damage.
It's both easy and hard, though.
Earlier this year, my 89-year-old dad lost his wife. A few months later, he lost his only brother. Then he developed some kind of skin condition that he was afraid was communicable. Whatever it was, it was driving him mad. He couldn't stop scratching, and he'd walled himself off from everyone, including the house cleaner.
Just recently, still unsure of what it was, but sure it's not communicable, they put him on something that's stemmed the itching. By then, the loneliness had taken over. He still couldn't get out. So, my brothers and I started sending people to him, unannounced, the way people used to show up. Dad's of a generation where that's normal, so he accepted.
Thankfully, it seems he is FINALLY coming around. One visit from his church's priest, and a million miracles have arisen in Dad's life. That one touch was all it took.
You're right, younger generations are not the only ones subject to loneliness, as your story so clearly illustrates. I've heard loneliness is common among the elderly. I'm sorry he lost his wife and brother, yet I'm glad he's finally feeling better. While unsurprising, it's still a miracle that one contact with another human being was enough to change the trajectory of his suffering. Glad you shared - this could be a post of its own. :)
A deeply resonant and poignant essay. Thank you, Ryan. We really can’t find digital solace in a void of human connection. Over that past few years the jewel of sangha has become extremely important me. Spiritual friends have given me something I had never realised I was missing. This has certainly spilled over into the way I try to ‘be with’ others more generally in life.
It's so good to learn that you have been part of a sangha (spiritual community for those reading) for the past few years. Yesterday, a fellow Substack friend and I discussed the value of spiritual friends over Zoom (since he lives in another city). Unfortunately, I didn't learn this until after my divorce. You know how much such friends enrich our lives....and allow us to connect more deeply within the greater community, as you say. Appreciate you sharing this here, Paul.
Thank you, Ryan, for writing this.
I moved house recently to a bigger place with a high wall in front on my house. I thought, great, privacy, I can do yoga out the front and sit in my Pj's drinking coffee. Then I started to miss the comings and goings of living on a terraced street. I soon began to feel the aches, and esp being home recovering from surgery and not being able to drive for weeks. I asked my doc for antidepressants, she said to treat the isolation first. I've let out two rooms to students now and have been sleeping better just knowing there's people in the house and the chats about their days. I bought a season ticket to my nearby cinema and have adopted going for a walk every evening after dinner. Meeting people I didn't even know were my neighbours. I also joined a choir, singing with 130 people really lifts your spirits. At this moment, I'm happy sitting looking out the window, but will soon leave the house to go be in the world. We can make small changes, like you say, smile and say hello. 👋
I truly appreciate you sharing your experience of engaging with the world. It's a fascinating area of practice, as you highlight with your many illustrations. You're proof that not only is connection necessary for our well-being, but it's also possible. I like that: "small changes."
Thank you, Ryan. Playing second to a screen is an especially cutting pain that most of us experience on the daily. Stop the madness before it kills us with loneliness!
I know the pain you speak of. My ex-wife and I were on the computer a lot, mostly for work but also to avoid being intimate.
I did a social experiment once upon a time ago when I lived in an enormous condo complex in Los Angeles. I had a question in mind. Does everyone want to feel so isolated when there are so many people here? thousands of people living within walking distance and it was bigger than the entire town i grew up in.
I realized how lonely I felt, even though i lived in a city with millions. I wondered when the last time was that I didn't feel lonely...and it was in university with dorm room doors wide open and little notepads on the door to tell people you stopped by. it was when you had groups of friends who would wander out to the fountain together or run into each other and start a conversation.
I started leaving my door open to my condo. I opened up doors for others, I carried groceries for people. I hung out in the pool area. I said hi. Little by little neighbors started leaving doors open. We started having sunday barbeque, cocktail hours after work, we started exchanging books. People even started watching each others kids so a single mom could run out to do errands on her own.
We all lived one door away from each other an no one spoke to that point. It took a weirdo. me. To start opening my door and making an effort. Having people over for a beer after work. offering a book, opening a door even though it meant me standing in a hallway for an extra 30 seconds for someone else to catch up with their arms full. And people started to reciprocate.
I saw this—No one wanted to START it. No one wanted that awkward moment of feeling a mini rejection or feeling like they were imposing on someone else. . Everyone had gotten used to avoiding eye contact, rushing ahead. or looking down at the screen so they didn't feel uncomfortable. I met retired couples who shared their wisdom from their life, I made friends with a talented animator who was my next door neighbor. I made a best friend who would go to random shops with me along the beach that only tourists would visit.
No one wants to be lonely. but it's those willing to put the phone down. ask meaningful question, and leave the door open that puts others at ease. Everyone is deeply hungry for connection. But its actually that when we are willing to put ourselves out there, smile in the mirror. the mirror smiles back. Also yeah, everybody put your damn phone down. It literally starts with us. each person. individually, making that choice to be a little awkward and say, fuck it, it's better than zombieville.
This is so awesome, Megan. Reading this leaves me feeling alive and happy. There are so many wisdom gems in here, including people hungering for connection, the fear and need of risking rejection, and no one wanting to initiate, but once someone does, people say, "Hell yeah!" It's the same in my area. It's not that people are unfriendly, but that they are fearful. Once you talk to them, they're delighted to connect. So glad you took the time to share this with all of us.
Looking forward to reading your latest newsletter on this topic!
appreciate that you took the time to read along. Thank you! and thank you for brining up the incredibly important topic of lonliness. I ended up editing and posting to my audience. it definitely inspired me to share. Big hug from peru
Big hug back. 🤗
Ryan, this was so sobering and what I think is the most important issue of our time. You describe it so well: capturing that moment when once in a while, there is the beauty of the "spell" breaking and there is connection between us and, as you correctly say, we both end up leaving "lighter". It IS as if Covid allowed us to to act as though we will avoid each other, indefinitely. It is so very sad. It is what I write about every day, because like you, I am astonished and ask myself the question you pose: "When did being together begin to feel so unnatural?"
I couldn't agree more with you, Gayle, especially the part about losing the ability to socialize and connect. It's a massive challenge, not just individually but collectively, as we're witnessing daily with the ongoing violence. One of the first insights I had when I began meditating was how social humans are. Each year, I see that we are even more social than I previously thought. Thanks for taking the time to share this.
Thanks for your response, Ryan. I always appreciate your thoughtful pieces.
This is incredibly well-written and communicated, Ryan. Thank you. I hope more folks take this to heart. (Needless to say, I agree!) 😊
Your comment makes my dad, Mike. I know how much you appreciate people. I've been feeling anxious and uneasy all afternoon after reading a shame and blame email from a family member. So, your comment is welcome!
It's not just the younger generations, besieged by technology, that are suffering this isolation. I've come to believe that isolation is powerful and deadly, but connection can do so much heavy lifting to offset the damage.
It's both easy and hard, though.
Earlier this year, my 89-year-old dad lost his wife. A few months later, he lost his only brother. Then he developed some kind of skin condition that he was afraid was communicable. Whatever it was, it was driving him mad. He couldn't stop scratching, and he'd walled himself off from everyone, including the house cleaner.
Just recently, still unsure of what it was, but sure it's not communicable, they put him on something that's stemmed the itching. By then, the loneliness had taken over. He still couldn't get out. So, my brothers and I started sending people to him, unannounced, the way people used to show up. Dad's of a generation where that's normal, so he accepted.
Thankfully, it seems he is FINALLY coming around. One visit from his church's priest, and a million miracles have arisen in Dad's life. That one touch was all it took.
You're right, younger generations are not the only ones subject to loneliness, as your story so clearly illustrates. I've heard loneliness is common among the elderly. I'm sorry he lost his wife and brother, yet I'm glad he's finally feeling better. While unsurprising, it's still a miracle that one contact with another human being was enough to change the trajectory of his suffering. Glad you shared - this could be a post of its own. :)
You may be right. I'm sure it will make it in there somehow. I think I'm waiting to see if the cloud is truly lifted.
When people say “it’s the journey, not the destination,” I think this explains it greatly.
Enjoy the journey.
Thanks Ryan.
I hadn't thought of that here, but you're right, Patrick. So grateful that you actually read my essays and comment when you feel moved.
A deeply resonant and poignant essay. Thank you, Ryan. We really can’t find digital solace in a void of human connection. Over that past few years the jewel of sangha has become extremely important me. Spiritual friends have given me something I had never realised I was missing. This has certainly spilled over into the way I try to ‘be with’ others more generally in life.
It's so good to learn that you have been part of a sangha (spiritual community for those reading) for the past few years. Yesterday, a fellow Substack friend and I discussed the value of spiritual friends over Zoom (since he lives in another city). Unfortunately, I didn't learn this until after my divorce. You know how much such friends enrich our lives....and allow us to connect more deeply within the greater community, as you say. Appreciate you sharing this here, Paul.