The World Health Organization (WHO) recently declared loneliness a “pressing health threat.” This may not be surprising to you. The world feels more broken than ever, and while all cultures and generations have dealt with their share of war, tragedy, and disease, they didn’t have the ongoing (and never-ending) exposure to the details we do now. The WHO announcement made me stop to consider why we’re all so lonely. Loneliness isn’t just about physical isolation, which many of us experienced during the pandemic. Loneliness can be about deeper isolation, one based on a lack of empathy and a lack of emotional and social connection. I looked around and saw a few things pretty clearly—things that are especially relevant right now.

What I see around me is a deeply entrenched desire to be right, to have our personal views reflected in everything we do and read, and to surround ourselves with like-minded people. I suspect that we believe doing this will make us feel better about ourselves, though it seems to simply make our lives very myopic. I also see us buying more and more to continually feed our search for happiness (and yes, I bring this up around the Christian holiday of Christmas for a reason). And yet, here we are, sad, isolated, and disconnected. If we looked toward science, we might see more clearly how these are not paths to anything positive. In Loneliness: Human Nature and the Need for Social Connection, “Cacioppo’s sophisticated studies…show that human beings are simply far more intertwined and interdependent―physiologically as well as psychologically―than our cultural assumptions have ever allowed us to acknowledge.” Materialism, over and above what we need to cover our basic needs, is also detrimental to our mental health. In The High Price of Materialism, author Tim Kasser “…shows that people whose values center on the accumulation of wealth or material possessions face a greater risk of unhappiness, including anxiety, depression, low self-esteem, and problems with intimacy—regardless of age, income, or culture.”

I think our relentless focus on ourselves and our near-religious belief in consumption are keeping us from each other. It seems we’ve lost sight of what humans really need to thrive: to care about others and be cared about. Most of us prioritize ourselves— our perspectives, experiences, and desires—over others, and it’s keeping us from even understanding each other. We’re so comfortable within our echo chambers that we don’t even realize we’re in them. Yet, we have to move out of our comfort zones if we are truly going to connect with others, whose experiences are different than ours or whose experiences we don't understand. The thing is, you don’t have to understand everything to understand something.

Among many divides in our world today, I see our us-ness in two conversations that are very important to me right now. When I talk about LGBTQ+ issues, I remind allies that they may not be aware of how dire the political situation is today because they don't have to be aware. They can ignore the pressures my family is feeling because they don’t impact their lives. I think this is true of just about every social or political issue across the planet: people care only about issues that affect them. This relentless us-ness is why people like my father care more about taxes and the price of gas than he does about my family feeling threatened—he doesn’t have to face the threats himself.

In talking to my Jewish friends and my Muslim friends since October 7th, they’ve made it clear that they are hurting, they are scared, and they are uncertain of what to expect next. Most of us are aware that there has been a horrific rise in antisemitism in synagogues, in businesses all across the country, and on college campuses. At the same time, there has been a rise in Islamophobia and attacks on members of the Muslim community. We don’t have to understand the entire Israel/Palestine conflict to speak out against antisemitism and all hate expressed toward innocent Palestinians, Israelis, Muslims, and Jews.

I think our current social and political climate, which is characterized by divisiveness and antagonism, reflects a broader loss of humanity. Both sides of many issues say the other is in a cult. But I think we're all in a cult. It's a cult of selfishness, consumerism, and a lack of care and empathy. It's a cult of winning versus understanding. It's a cult of blaming individuals or groups versus addressing systems that aren't working for humans. Hate and trauma have no ‘sides.’ Reaching out to a Jewish neighbor, Muslim friend, or colleague with different political views can create connections we all desperately need. We won’t solve every problem, but we may start to heal in ways that have a ripple effect. By actively challenging prejudices; standing up and speaking out against antisemitism, racism, and ‘othering’ in all forms; and extending kindness and empathy, we will be contributing to a more inclusive, less lonely, more understanding society.

Truthfully, I think the cure for our collective mental health and loneliness may be relearning to give a damn about other people through kindness and empathy. Acts of kindness make you healthier and feel better; a smile, kind words, or compliments can alleviate the loneliness plaguing the world. If we each can step into empathy and out of comfort, we might be able to engage across divides in surprising ways.

There have been times when I have said, “If you don't believe in my politics, I don't believe in you.” But that's not true for me anymore. I think ‘us’ and ‘them’ attitudes do more to divide than unify. I want to believe in the essence of humanity and believe that we are all good, worthy, and decent at our core. We’ve gotten to this state of loneliness because we are desperate—we're desperate for each other, and we don't even know it.

I've never felt more passionate about building bridges and connections. I see it as the actual path to happiness—reclaiming our humanity from the cults of othering and disconnection. That's what we really need this holiday season. It's not about drawing names and spending money on useless stuff. It's about coming together and having conversations fueled by kindness, interest, and real empathy. We have to ground everything we do moving forward in empathy and understanding, and not in, “I'm right. You are wrong. You're taking my money, you're taking my job, you're taking from me. It's all about me.” The reality is that we’re all feeling similar feelings.

At this year’s end, by embracing simple acts of kindness, rekindling the spirit of connection, and acknowledging our need for each other, I think we can start to heal what’s broken about us—not ourselves, the collective ‘us.’ Maybe it will help us spend the next years of our lives in a less lonely space.

I believe that we have the power to transform not just our own lives but also our neighborhoods, communities, suburbs, and cities. Simple acts that steer us toward a more connected and humane world are examples of us seeing the goodness in the world and the miracles that we have the ability to affect. And that seems like the real reason for every season.