My family’s Basset Hound, April, maintained a complicated relationship with trips to the vet. The undignified poking and prodding, not to mention the requisite weigh-in, were the price of admission to a love-fest at which she was the ringleader. She soaked up the car ride and multiple people confirming what a good girl she was. And the belly rubs? She lived for those. Upon our arrival home, though, we would all resume normal activities—homework, chores, et cetera—and April would be left with only her memories of the day. Before long, she’d throw back her head and cut loose with the most mournful of howls, no doubt wondering how she could reclaim the spotlight.
We would always laugh and place bets on how long it would take before we’d hear April’s low and persistent lamentation, but in hindsight I recognize those behavior patterns in a lot of us. Surgeon General Vivek Murthy has even recently issued an advisory calling attention to the epidemic of isolation in the United States. According to Dr. Murthy, a lack of connection can increase the risk of premature death to levels comparable to smoking daily. While our Basset Hound wasn’t isolated or lonely (no doubt she often retreated for a moment or two of peace from kids demanding her attention), she was honest in her bid for attention and didn’t mind how many people in the neighborhood heard it. This is where I think many of us could learn from April, because while we have the need for connection, we are reluctant to ask for it.
It’s the day before Valentine’s Day, and since December 26 we’ve been bombarded by larger-than-life teddy bears, heart-shaped boxes of chocolate, and jewelry commercials playing on a constant loop. If we didn’t know better, it would be easy to assume that love looks like the advertisements, romance novels, and Hallmark movies from which we cannot escape. Don’t get me wrong, all of those are wonderful, although I’d swap the teddy bear for a dog and the jewelry for a bag of garden seeds. And it fills me with joy and gratitude to know that my husband knows this about me. My family and friends know what I value, how I prefer to spend my time, and what makes me laugh (and cry), and it’s a gift when they allow me to know the same about them. The level of trust it requires to let someone truly see us feels immeasurable; the stakes are high and sometimes it feels safer not to take the bet.
The Surgeon General’s recent warning on the potentially deadly dangers of isolation and loneliness probably came as no surprise to those whose lives lack connection. I’m curious about the stories of these people, how they came to feel so removed from the world. In a speech he gave at Duke University, Dr. Murthy recalled a conversation he had with his wife about feeling friendless and unsure of what to do. She told him that he did indeed have friends, but was not currently in a friendship; he’d been so busy that he neglected the relationships that had meant a great deal to him.
If there is a loneliness epidemic, then I’d say it’s safe to announce an equally pervasive battle with anxiety. It is no exaggeration to say that I receive between three to five emails weekly from students who alert me that their anxiety prevented them from completing assignments or that the dread of interacting with peers tempts them to drop the class altogether. Certainly for every student who brings me their story of anxiety, depression, or fear there is a different cause. And it would be insulting to suggest one approach to addressing these conditions. If a singular solution were to exist, however, I think Dr. Becky Kennedy, would have identified it. Dr. Kennedy, a clinical psychologist with extensive experience working with young people, has conducted research on reasons why generations after Gen X seem especially targeted by anxiety and ways to treat, mitigate, and perhaps even avoid it. What she has found, time after time, is that when young people (or any of us, for that matter), participate in acts of service, they report a reduction in anxiety. For a number of reasons (not helped by a global pandemic, for sure), people have pulled back from each other. In extreme cases they develop such a self-centeredness that the thought of doing something to benefit others never occurs to them. Kennedy’s research validates the idea that when we reach out in acts of service, it feels good. It builds confidence that we have something of value that the world needs. It allows us the opportunity to join a community. When we feel that we matter, when we accomplish something that actually makes a visible difference to someone outside of ourselves, fear, depression, and anxiety diminish.
So with Valentine’s Day fewer than 24 hours away, I wonder what would happen if Cupid cast a wider net and represented the many ways we can love one another, and inspired us to leave a positive sticky note on the computer of our co-worker, offer a smile of encouragement to someone who is having a bad day, or find an organization that could use our help and expect absolutely nothing in return. My favorite line from the movie Love, Actually comes from the narrator while the audience observes people joyfully greeting one another at an airport. He says, “If you look for it, I’ve got a sneaky feeling you’ll find that love actually is all around.” Amen to that.
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