Loneliness: Exploring Connection
Written by William Fraser, Registered Psychologist
The weight that each person carries is not just one thing. It’s everything: income, chores, family dynamics, self-worth, personal health. Life stacks up, and somewhere in it all can also be a hard feeling of loneliness.
Like the couch is big, but no one is on it. Or maybe some great people are, but they feel distant.
Loneliness is not a small problem. In Canada, about 1 in 8 people report feeling lonely “often” or “always,” and young people report it the most. It’s not only something that shows up at the end of life. It’s here throughout.
I started thinking about this after watching Join, or Die on Netflix. One of its central ideas is that we used to gather more. Since the 1960s, however, participation in clubs, churches, and unions has steadily declined. There are fewer bowling leagues, community meetings, and shared rituals. As a result, the documentary argues that we are more disconnected from our neighbours, contributing to the broader divides we see in political culture.
The documentary points to television and cell phones as two of the many sources of this shift, suggesting that entertainment has moved into our homes. We don’t need to go out to be occupied anymore. But maybe something else came with that. Not just less time together, but less practice at being together. Less practice listening, sitting in discomfort, and deeply connecting. And, like anything we don’t practice, it’s getting harder, more awkward, and easier to avoid.
Another factor that may contribute to loneliness is workplace change. People are working more, or at least working differently. Lunch breaks disappear, or are eaten at a desk. As a contract worker, I think about how rare it is to have a shared, predictable pause in the day. There used to be a time reliably built into most people’s lives. A time when we could sit with someone, enjoy a meal together, and connect over a universal topic - complaining about work.
Feeling alone may also be tied to a cultural rise in individualism. In one study examining this trend, researchers found that since the 1960s, American books have shown a decline in the use of “we” and an increase in the use of “I.” We see a version of this on social media, too, where there’s pressure to present the best version of ourselves. In The Mattering Instinct, Goldstein suggests that the drive to prove our self-worth (to matter) can sometimes pull us away from connection, increasing feelings of loneliness and disconnection. To put this differently: when everything becomes about building your perfect life, it’s easy to forget we’re supposed to share one.
The topic of loneliness is deep and multifaceted, something we could explore for hours. And that’s probably worth doing. But because this is a blog and not a book, the question becomes: what do we do?
I don’t have all the answers, but I have some hunches about what might help.
Part of it might be about stretching our relational capacity and working to get better at having harder conversations, saying things that feel vulnerable. Brené Brown suggests that vulnerability is the “birthplace” of connection. It is not a weakness, but a form of courage required for authentic relationships. If you’re interested in this, her book Daring Greatly is a good place to start.
Another part might involve rethinking our life structure. It could mean a conscious shift away from individualism and toward building sustainable community. A great quote from an unknown author is: “The best way for an individual to thrive is for their community to thrive.” This might look like scheduling time with others to rebuild our own version of a club, whether that’s a rec league, a volunteer group, or a recurring dinner.
At Strathearn, a colleague once shared their “messy house dinner” idea. That is to get together with friends once a month, but you’re not allowed to clean your home beforehand. A scary, and therapeutically brilliant thought. It challenges the idea that we need to be put together to be accepted, and circles back to vulnerability. People come regardless.
Lastly, there is potentially an existential question about values to be asked here. Try this out. Imagine the life you want to live, focusing on these two questions: how would you spend your time and with whom? What comes to mind?
Maybe in doing this, you see the importance of attending art shows around Edmonton, comedy nights, or running clubs. Maybe it means being closer to your elderly mom, your stinky brother, or reconnecting with that one friend from high school. The point is that when we get clearer about what we want, we’re better positioned to move toward it. It becomes an object on the horizon.
These are just some thoughts on what it means to work with loneliness. An exploration that might help you bring people to your couch, or feel a little closer to the ones already on it. And, as a slightly cheesy piece of therapeutic insight: though it might feel vulnerable and awkward, it’s not too late to text a friend, or make a new one. It’s very natural to want to connect.