Love is exactly as strong as life.
JOSEPH CAMPBELL
WE KNOW THE TIME WE spend with people matters. We can give them our full presence. We can infuse our relationships with more affection and creativity. But filling in the calendar and practicing our emotional focus seems to take us only so far. What else goes into building a strong fire-circle community? What else can ground us in a solid sense of connectedness? How else can we absorb the lessons of elders in our group and pass on our stories and rituals that shape our identity?
For our ancient ancestors, ritual was the key to social cohesion. It imposed an agreed upon order to life. It established common ground and constructed a group identity. Today, celebratory customs preserve the elements of family and community strained by such modern realities as long work hours and long distances between family members. Let’s explore the possibilities, starting with seizing the moment.
Our hunter-gatherer ancestors (as well as traditional societies today) lived in a culture of immediacy, meaning life was lived around what could be found and created in the moment. Food was foraged instead of stored. Structures were erected as temporary shelters in keeping with periodic migration. Relationships, too, were continually recreated and reaffirmed through day-to-day contribution and interaction. Kinship was an ever-evolving relationship, not a fixed status.
What would it look like if we applied this “immediacy” to our close relationships today? What if we saw every day as a chance to remake our relationships in the present moment? So often we allow the responsibilities and routine of life to throw us into autopilot. It’s important, now and then, to find a way to break the script of everyday life and refocus our relationships. Maybe it means time alone with a spouse, best friend, or individual child. Alternatively, we might recharge a connection best by seeing the relationship against a different backdrop—a couples’ weekend, a team sport, or a family vacation. To follow, a few more fun suggestions on how to reconnect.
Fill a family calendar—of nothing but fun. (The same idea works for couples and friendships.) Call a family meeting, hand out drinks with umbrellas, and fill in the dates—actual appointments—with everyone’s favorite ideas. Whether it’s a stay-cation week or a regular weekend, you won’t regret the investment in your loved ones and their passions.
Use social media as a means to a more ambitious end. It’s all in the strategy, balance, and follow-up. Try using social media to bolster relationships that already exist in your social circle. Use it to share the day-to-day funny stuff you’d forget to pass along in a conversation. And be selective about who you “friend.”
Go old school. As inundated as we are with texts, emails, and social media, how about surprising someone with a bonafide piece of genuine mail—a postcard, a letter, a picture colored by your child, a greeting card, or care package. Think of it this way: “friends” send Facebook messages, but real friends shell out for the stamp.
Show up for live entertainment. In our ancestors’ day, all entertainment was live. In fact, the whole point had more to do with the communal experience than the performance itself. Armed with the likes of On Demand, Netflix, and iTunes, we moderns tend to forget this aspect of our humanity. It’s so easy to get stuck at home in our insular bubbles, but we’re missing out on whole dimensions of appreciation if we sit on the couch staring mindlessly at a screen. There’s something uniquely satisfying about enjoying a play in the theater, a game in the arena, or a concert at the hall with others who enjoy the same pastime.
Look at it this way: strangers or not, we’re all participating in a deeply ancient rite together. Getting up from our seats at the end, somehow we’re connected to everyone in the audience who just had the same experience. That sensation is part of our human story. Better yet, make some live entertainment yourself. Host a game night. Ask a friend’s daughter to play piano at your next neighborhood party. Organize a talent show at the next family reunion or otherwise chaotic holiday get-together. It will likely be memorable (and potentially hilarious).
Put yourself out there. Call it killing several birds with one stone. We stay shacked up in our homes, away from sun and scenery. How about giving the front porch some company? No front porch? How about lawn chairs on the driveway? Play with the kids in the front yard. Have your coffee or eat dinner out on the lawn. Use your condo community pool and grounds. Go for a stroll around the neighborhood. Stop. Talk. Catch up.
Keep the social hour social. Forget the need for a special occasion, novel recipes, and clever drinks. Have people over tonight and serve the same thing you’d serve yourself. Treat people more like welcome family than honored guests. (Trust me, they’ll be more comfortable, too.) Be casual. Be spontaneous. My wife and I often share good times with another couple. They’re the best dinner-party hosts you can imagine, routinely getting us involved with small chopping, grating, or other preparatory jobs soon after our arrival. The result is a casual, convivial ambiance in the kitchen that makes for a great party.
Build a fire. Life is just better with fire. We all know it. I’d venture to say a fire circle bears some kind of evolutionary imprint on our genes. We all gravitate toward it with no conscious will but a powerful instinct. A fireplace, a fire pit, a campfire, a bonfire, even candles in a pinch—they all do the same job. Take the fire circle to heart and invite a few old or new friends to spend a relaxing evening. I’ve noticed people tend to relax and open up by a fire in a way they wouldn’t necessarily do in the broad lamplight. People share a little more, laugh a bit harder, and linger a lot longer.
How many times do we take a pass on social opportunities—a blow-out vacation, a weekend outing, or even a spontaneous night out with friends? It sounds like fun. Often, we know it would be incredible, in fact. Money isn’t even the issue most of the time. The problem? We just can’t get over the hassle factor. When a friend invites the whole family to his cabin for a week, we imagine the seven hours it would take to pack for three kids. When a friend calls last minute with an extra ticket to the ball game, we think about the traffic and the stress of leaving work early instead of a chance to bond over live entertainment.
In balancing the pros and cons, however, we might not be giving the value of the experience its full due. Memories are, in fact, “durable goods.”16 They serve our wellbeing long after we’ve gotten caught up on laundry. The best measure of an adventure, researchers say, might even be found in the recollecting rather than the actual doing.17 For example, a nightmare vacation makes for years of awesome stories and the affirmation of joint survival. In an age focused on convenience, we need to remember that life is about our experiences, however difficult or easy they may prove.
Likewise, remembering the traditions and meaningful times we’ve spent with our loved ones, in particular, can fill our emotional well. Research shows that wistful reminiscence boosts our self-confidence and enhances our feelings of connection.18 Ritualizing our memories also provides a sense of continuity and meaning to our lives by encouraging us to see the past in a positive light.
Our hunter-gatherer ancestors continually reaffirmed the kinship ties they had to one another by contributing to the life of the band but also by celebrating the stories and the history of their connections to one another. Memories solidified and supported the group’s identity. They also helped allow new members to integrate into the band. The same holds true today. Whether it’s telling old stories around the dinner table or observing long-lived family and cultural customs, this emotional cohesion has the power to anchor our sense of self as well as strengthen familial and social connections.
We should acknowledge the value of memories, and—in light of the research—even ask ourselves periodically, “How am I doing on my memory investments these days?” The fact is, our recollections are more than fodder for good conversations or photo albums. They’re emotional stores to get us through when times are tough or relationships are strained. Our memories are key supports to the resilience of our relationships and our own wellbeing.
Acts of generosity, research shows, don’t just lead to emotional satisfaction; they actually promote physical health and healing. It’s more than good karma, of course. There’s evolutionary rationale to the warm fuzzies we get when we exercise our altruistic muscle. It behooved our ancestors to get along well and exhibit cooperation within their tribal groups. Even as the scale of social community expanded over time, a confluence of cultural motivation and genetic incentive appear to have still have favored “pro-social” behaviors. We’re designed to be socially conscious and collaborative creatures.
Volunteering and other generous acts won’t cure a disease, but they can help people with serious conditions cope with physical pain and ease their symptoms.19 Other research links volunteering with higher levels of the immunity-boosting antibody immunoglobulin A (IgA) as well as decreases in blood pressure, stomach acid, and cholesterol counts. Researchers have long observed the emotional advantages of a generous disposition. The so-called “help-er’s high” is rooted in the release of endorphins. In keeping with this effect, those who volunteer report fewer stress symptoms and lower rates of insomnia.20 Amazingly, even witnessing acts of charity has been shown to influence immune response—a phenomenon labeled the “Mother Teresa effect.” Study participants who watched scenes of Mother Teresa helping others showed an increase in salivary IgA.21
Finally, it should be said that giving shouldn’t be about obligation or necessarily about material exchange. Sulky obligation doesn’t exactly inspire health and happiness in the giver—or gratitude and wellbeing in the recipient. Although studies in altruism have focused on volunteerism, generous acts can also be as small and personal as making your partner’s favorite meal, holding the door for a stranger, or offering encouraging words to someone going through difficult times.
The idea here, we sense, is less about any particular action than it is about mindset. When it comes to benevolence benefit, it’s truly the thought that counts. Adopting a magnanimous attitude can lift us out of the limited, and ultimately lonely individualism that can feel like, and truly be, a burden. As one study report highlights, common themes in volunteers’ feedback include the satisfaction of making a connection and living with a sense of purpose.
Fostering genuine health involves more than pampering ourselves or checking off suggested acts for personal wellbeing. The act of giving places our potential for happiness outside of the restricted confines of our own lives. It extends our capacity for fulfillment and joy, beyond the daily details of our lives, to the good we can see and do in all that’s around us.22