Critical Connections

Heart bonds and community may determine our lifespan

My husband, Andrea (in the picture above, white cap), traveled to the North Shore of Lake Superior in Minnesota this past weekend for a grueling, technical (torturous, in my opinion) endurance trail run—Superior Fall Trail Race—for his event “The Moose Mountain Marathon.” His absence, and our son’s newfound freedom as an officially licensed driver, left me on my own for our family’s ritual Saturday pizza night, so I invited a friend over to share in the feast.

For those new to Ageosophy, this is my one, highly anticipated, big splurge of the week. I prepare the cold rise dough every Thursday, pick up Stracciatella (a favored Italian cheese) for my husband and son, whisk a simple olive oil vinaigrette for the salad, and by Saturday night all is well with the world.

During our wide-ranging conversation, my friend and I somehow ended up on the subject of keeping fingers nimble through knitting and handiwork, which lead me to think about how many ladies used to embroider and crochet, which then brought to mind quilting groups. As we enjoyed the twists and turns of lively conversation, I quipped that’s why women historically have outlived men: because we create social connections and bonds through our activities.

Social creatures
Although I was half joking, it isn’t too far from the truth. Meaningful social and familial interactions are a key factor in wellness and longevity. While we don’t need studies to tell us what we instinctively know, there are innumerable dissertations (full of mind-boggling statistics I won’t bore you with) that have unequivocally confirmed the obvious: people who are socially connected are happier, healthier, and live longer.

On the flip side, people who experience some aspect of social isolation are at risk for a whole host of longevity-robbing issues such as diminished immune function, heart disease, depression and cognitive decline just to name a few. Noreena Hertz writes in her book, The Lonely Century, that statistically, loneliness is as bad for us as smoking fifteen cigarettes a day! Holy smokes! Yet loneliness verging on epidemic proportions is one of the biggest and most difficult problems facing older adults…and in this emotionally detached digital age, it is likely to get exponentially worse.

Tough lessons
While I’m passionate about nutrition and exercise, I’m equally fervent about the need for social connections and companionship as we age. Perhaps because I learned the value and importance of this matter first-hand decades ago: initially, when I regularly took our unusually large, walking heart of a golden retriever, Logan, to visit convalescent facilities; and subsequently, when we cared for my mom in our home for the last 13 years of her life.

The nursing home experiences impacted me greatly…I usually left in tears. Not because of the facility itself; this one, in particular, was on the high end of the scale, so it was thankfully clean (which meant it didn’t smell) and had the appearance of a milquetoast, mid-range hotel. What saddened me was the loneliness I saw in the faces of the residents, despite the distractions of bingo games and TV game shows. In particular, I vividly remember a tiny, balding lady who was always nicely dressed with clip-on earrings barely hanging on her ears and a smear of lipstick on her chapped lips. Sitting in a wheelchair outside the room that she shared with 4 people, pictures of her bright, beaming grandchildren taped on the wall next to her bed, she lit up as I approached with Logan and literally reached out for my hand. I held her hand as we chatted about her memories. The same stories. Every time. It broke my heart.

Years later, my mom similarly used to sit on our porch in her wheelchair, watching life pass by. Thankfully, we live in a neighborhood where lots of people walk at all times of the day, so she spent her afternoons waving to people and talking to whoever would stop to chat. She repeated the same behavior the handful of times that she was in a convalescent home recovering from surgery. She insisted on being parked in the hall to watch people and if she was forgotten in her room, all hell broke loose…the nurses would have to call me to come to calm her down. Although it was stressful and unpleasant for me, I can only imagine what my mom was feeling to put her into such a state of angst and panic.

Both of these life experiences indelibly imprinted upon me two truths: that we are innately social creatures; and that our intense emotional need for community can have physiological consequences.

Not always inherent
Unfortunately for me, my natural inclination is borderline introverted; I think I’m a bit like my dad, who I used to joke would be happy living in a cave with a candle and a stack of books. I loathe attending gatherings and functions, small talk scares me, and much of the time, I’m simply content by myself. I sometimes have to force myself to smile and say hello to people when I am walking in our neighborhood… and not to give in to the temptation to hide behind my gregarious, say-hello-to-everyone husband.

However, I’m surprised by a real dichotomy: the times that I stretch myself and engage in an event or a situation that I initially shied away from when all is said and done, I usually find that I’m glad I went, that I actually really enjoyed it and I’m looking forward to the next one. Who’d a thunk? Even though it's not my default, I genuinely relish catching up with neighbors and friends, and I’m really taking pleasure in a new consulting job that occasionally places Andrea and me in an office, talking to people most of the day. 

Clearly, this need for social interaction will be a lifelong wrestling match with my naturally reserved temperament, but it is an enormously important piece of the longevity pie. I know that I, more than most, am going to have to purposefully resist the drift of living in the most digitally connected, yet emotionally isolated culture yet to exist.

Fuel for the soul
Building strong social connections requires dedication and effort, no different than building and maintaining our physical strength. My goal? Regularly disconnect from devices. Accept and initiate social invitations. Chat with my neighbors. Smile at passersby. And as I get older, strive to intentionally integrate our lives with those of close friends and family. I’ve already told our son to prepare himself—at some point we will be living with him and his family. Maybe not for another 20 years or so, but in some shape or fashion it will gradually happen. Perhaps only part of the year, possibly adjoining houses, a family compound…don’t know yet, but I’m shaping my mindset (and his, he’s thrilled…) that being connected is integral to being healthy. It’s not a burden. It’s not a loss of independence. It’s a life essential.

Circling back to Moose Mountain, as Andrea texted me photos and updates along the road, I was so excited for him to have had this adventure. Not just because events like races provide goals to train for and attain—the endurance event was simply the cherry on top. The real treat was the road trip with his running buddies. A 3-day excursion of ritual stops for favorite meals and breweries (seriously, the same every year), driving through breathtakingly beautiful countryside, bantering as only a group of buddies can do. With every text and photo, I just kept thinking what a great experience it was and how fortunate Andrea was to fill up his soul’s gas tank with the fuel of friendship. As his “Dutch uncle” Dick Bass would espouse, “Pleasures shared are multiplied!”

Incidentally, Andrea completed the race—which is a huge accomplishment in itself—stopping along the way to help pace a woman to the end who didn’t think she could make it. But greater than the finish line was the meaningful time spent with friends, creating bonds and forging indelible memories. My hope for this post is twofold: first, to inspire you to prioritize cultivating consequential heart bonds and develop a plan for a socially integrated future; and second, to encourage you to reach out to the isolated elderly people in your life—family, friends and perhaps strangers—many of whom may be suffering in silence, out of sight. Help yourself and others to live well, age great.