It’s March 2020 and the world is in fear response. It’s fight, flight, freeze, except the fights are for toilet rolls, the flights are being cancelled, and our lives are going into freeze.
I’d started volunteering with the 240 Project in Notting Hill, who, like many, had no idea how to continue supporting vulnerable people through the unforeseeable crisis. We took to the phones and did what we could.
I was given the number of an elderly man, living alone and suffering with depression. I’d call him at the same time every day with the understanding that if he didn’t feel like talking, he didn’t have to answer. We knew nothing about each other, no previous interaction, yet soon we were talking every day. Just two voices breaking through the isolation.
We’d share stories and talk about our interests. I learned that Jim (not his real name) was a poet and a painter and he’d often send me his work. I wondered at times if I was benefitting more from our chats than he was. I was the one supposedly offering support, yet there was something about the randomness of our connection that was affecting me profoundly. Because human connection doesn’t occur on its own. It’s an exchange.
Last week I received an email that surprised me. It was from someone I didn’t know that well, although our lives had been connected at one point. She emailed to tell me that she’d subscribed to this newsletter and went on to say very kind, complimentary things. It was thoughtful and generous of her, but what she didn’t know was that I had been feeling particularly self-conscious that week. I was self-critical and full of self-doubt. Her small act of kindness meant more in that moment than she could have known (although hopefully she does now).
The pandemic may have made us think more about connection and loneliness, but what about the ways in which we are all connected, and the positive impact we can have on people we don’t even really know.
We get caught up in our own worlds, focusing on our immediate circle, family, friendship group. We can easily forget that we are part of a much bigger collective.
Of course, it can feel scary to reach out. I live in London where making eye-contact on the tube is considered high-risk behaviour. They say Londoners are unfriendly, but that’s never been my experience. There are just so damn many of us that the result is, ironically, isolation.
On a long country walk you might cross paths with a couple out walking their dog. Sure, you greet them - they’re probably the first people you’ve seen in half an hour! But what if the fields were packed with people you’ve never met - who do you say hello to? Who do you acknowledge? It’s less overwhelming if you keep your head down!
However, in my experience, if you acknowledge people - if you do smile, or nod or chat, the reception is always welcoming (…assuming you’re fully dressed and not wielding any sort of weapon).
We’re unfortunately in an individualist society which prioritises money, status and success, over community, exchange and interaction. We overlook how important even the smallest acts of connection are, and the ripple effect that occurs when we feel appreciated by another being.
There’s a great episode of Mo Gawdat’s podcast, Slo Mo, with Lisa Miller (snippet below) that reinforces the importance of witnessing each other. We are not designed to be alone or siloed.
Consider the small acts of connection you can make throughout your day. A friendly chat at the check-out. Smiling as you cross someone’s path. Taking the time to interact with those around you.
The truth, if we allow it, is that by fully appreciating one other we can discover that we are never really alone.
The Spin
You never know what impact small acts of connection can have. Reach out. The world will thank you for it.
It can be easier to keep your head down, but you’re missing out on the human experience around you. We are all joined in ways many of us don’t even realise.
Connection is not defined by status, wealth or demographic. Sometimes the richest relationships can be forged with the people you least expect.
Kindness is contagious (and doesn’t require a mask!). It costs nothing and benefits everybody.
Adding More Weight
The friendship that emerged from grief.
Acts of kindness can make a big difference in the refugee crisis.
I love @thehappinessprojectuk on Instagram.
And have long-time-loved the stories shared by @humansofny ❤️
Johann Hari’s TED Talk on connection being the opposite of addiction.
Option To Go Deeper
Consider the people you have small interactions with in your daily life.
Shopkeepers, posties, waiters, bus drivers ..the list goes on. We can know so little about the lives of those around us and yet still have regular social exchanges. Sometimes something as seemingly innocuous as eye-contact can make a person feel seen. Are there any small things you can build into your day to help you and those around you feel connected?
The Wind Down
I highly recommend Where the Crawdads Sing by Delia Owens - a beautiful book which drives home the importance of connection, the impact of loneliness, and the transformative power of kindness.
I’m enjoying Sex Education Season 3 right now - if you haven’t caught up yet, do go back to the start - it’s laugh out loud but an inspo in human connectivity.
Thanks for reading. Today’s newsletter was sponsored by this guy: