Author Henri Nouwen once suggested that all humanity seems to share a common woundedness. In The Wounded Healer, Nouwen wrote:

But what are our wounds? They have been spoken about in many ways by many voices. Words such as “alienation,” “separation,” “isolation,” and “loneliness” have been used as the names of our wounded condition. Maybe the word “loneliness” best expresses our immediate experience and therefore most fittingly enables us to understand our brokenness.

Loneliness. The common wound of all humanity.
We’ve found ways to isolate ourselves from everything and everyone. Our TVs have gotten bigger while our front porches have gotten smaller. We design neighborhoods around “safety” rather than “community.” Big box stores and processed food cut us off from the origins of our stuff, and nursing homes and the funeral home industry have disconnected us from our own mortality. Layers of management insulate many of us from the actual effects of our day-to-day work, and the commodification of self-care has put us out of touch with our own needs. The rise of remote work, while increasing comfort (and arguably productivity), also further silos us away from peers. Even connecting tools like social media subtly push us to present only the most filtered versions of ourselves, making us all the lonelier. But what’s the alternative?

The opposite of loneliness isn’t just being around people.
It’s connecting with people, with communities, and with things that are bigger than ourselves. And as we connect with these things outside of ourselves, we can rediscover ourselves in the process.

Lately, instead of the word “spirituality” (which is super vague and hard to define), I’ve been using the word “connection.” That is, how are the people in my care connecting to their families, their communities, their traditions, and their pasts? How are they connecting to their faith and to the transcendent or God or whatever? And especially, how are they connecting with themselves —their own thoughts, feelings, needs, and strengths— during the disorienting experience of illness? While I still introduce myself as a spiritual and emotional support provider, when pushed to elaborate, I’ve started saying, “I’m here to check your connections.”

We live in a lonely age.
Have you checked your connections lately?