Member-only story
After the Gold Rush
On quiet influence in an age of mined attention
Knights in armour
I am an introvert, and, not unexpectedly, I have only a small handful of people I would call friends. As I get older, I find myself thinking about what that means. Wellness advisors, whatever that has come to mean, point to companionship as a factor in how healthy and long-lived people are. “We are social beings” is repeated so often it has become a slogan, and most of the advice I come across says we need active relationships, and that more is better.
It is something I have never fully understood.
I have lived in my own head for as long as I have been aware of it, which was very early in life. I have always preferred being alone to being in a crowd, even a crowd of people I know well. Family gatherings were hard for me. I often slipped away to a quiet room just to take a breath and gather enough energy for the hours still ahead. None of this was a judgment of the people in the next room. It is simply how I am built, and it took me a long time to stop apologizing for it, mostly if not exclusively to myself.
The full moon
As a physician, I have sat with many people who told me, in their most vulnerable hours, that they could not bear to be alone. Their fear was real, and it was usually wiser than my…
