Humans crave connection. We are social beings. It’s how we survived; similarly to their animal forebears, prehistoric humans formed packs and societies. They hunted together – you think one guy could bring down a gigantic deer or bison? They lived together, first in caves, then in structures made from plants, wood, and animal hides, then in actual houses. They worked together not only to hunt meat but also to build those dwellings, to gather plants and herbs, to cook together to make meals for all members of the group and they formed individual families when two adults decided to commit to each other and have children.
While our dwellings sure look different, and family structures have changed, nevertheless, we need each other to survive. You may live in a city or a town, but you pay taxes so that your trash is picked up, your children can go to school and you, your home, and your possessions are protected from crime.
These are just some examples of how we rely on others to live our best lives. But other than hermits or people who choose to be isolated, for whatever reason, most of us want to connect with other people. Generally, your family is where you start. As a child, your usual social structure is your siblings and cousins. I’m lucky to remain close to most of my cousins who I grew up with, since they were my first “friends.” Since our parents were close-knit siblings, there were plenty of family celebrations throughout the year that brought us together.
As you get older, you start making friends in school, then gather more as you hit the workforce. Recently, I was reflecting on my many long-term friendships and how I met them, and they pretty much run that same gamut. I’m also lucky to have made new friends through post-career hobbies and volunteer work.
In the olden times (1980s, 1990s, practically a lifetime ago! 😊), we kept in touch by telephone, and we made plans to go out. I didn’t have friends that lived far away, so a get-together was easy to arrange. Texting was not yet a thing, and we weren’t so busy that it was hard to see each other. I discovered karaoke bars when I was in law school and that’s why I never slept. But boy was that fun! I met my best friend and even my husband there.
It occurred to me the other day that texting has become the new phone call. It actually feels strange to call someone out of the blue to have a chat. Which I love to do. I’m not really a fan of texting, because while I type very fast on a keyboard, I have yet to master the art of using your thumbs on a small phone screen. And I usually have far too much to say to confine it to text, which hides the context, tone, and general demeanor of the two people involved. What I do now is send a text to see if someone has a few free minutes to talk. And while I’m retired and have scattered chunks of time during the day, most of my friends still work, so I try to be mindful of their schedules.
Not long ago, I read that younger people hardly ever pick up their phones when someone calls – for them it’s not natural. They want text only. One of my nieces makes an exception when it’s her birthday, and she’ll answer the phone when I call (lucky me!). I do respect other people’s preferences, and I do my best to follow them, but I do miss the random “hey, whatchya doing?” phone call. Especially from someone I haven’t talked to in a while.
And of course, we have social media. I have mixed feelings about it, especially the keyboard warriors who make it a point to be insulting and rude to total strangers. But I do find it super convenient to be able to keep in touch with friends and family members who I don’t live near, and who I don’t talk to often. So, in that respect I think it’s a helpful tool to remain connected. I joined a couple of online groups when I lost my husband, and I’ve made some acquaintances with fellow widows who have been very helpful and inspiring to me. I’ll probably never meet them in person, but it’s a connection nonetheless.
Survival no longer depends on being with other people (we hunt and gather at the grocery store, and watch TV or doom scroll for company), and if our prehistoric ancestors could see us now (notwithstanding the technology) they would wonder how we all became so isolated. And I’ve learned that you can be lonely in a thriving area with people all around you. If you know someone elderly who lives alone, reaching out to tell them you’re thinking of them might be the best thing you do all day.
