The Importance of Community on the Healing Journey

If all of human existence were contained within one day, we as a species have lived communally for 23 hours and 59 minutes. We are currently living with unprecedented levels of isolation, independence, self-reliance, and individualism. Humanity ain’t built for that and it shows.

Without getting all Yuval Harari about it (author of Sapiens: A Brief History of Humankind), let’s simply look at our capacity for human connection through the lens of attachment theory and draw some conclusions about the vital role of community on our healing journeys.

Insecurely Attached

Anxious attachment originates from unhealthy distance (physical and emotional abandonment or inconsistency), which prevents regular maturation and development of a self, leaving a hole of unmet needs and childlike dependency on others.

Avoidant attachment typically comes from unhealthy closeness (abuse, control, criticism, enmeshment) which prevents the formation of appropriate boundaries. When it results in missing boundaries, this ensures more unhealthy closeness, thus confirming the deeply held belief that people, vulnerability, and relationships aren’t safe; and when it results in rigid boundaries (walls), we shield ourselves from ever giving relationships another fair shot.

In other words, insecure attachment of any kind is a product of unhealthy relationships, and the only way to correct that is to practice and experience healthy relating in a safe, patterned, repetitive way that rewires the nervous system’s understanding of human connection.

This cannot be done via dating where there is so much at stake and so many reasons to self-abandon. And because the nervous system measures connection primarily through proximity, touch, tone, eye contact, body language, and speed of response, the proliferation of so-called “connection” via social media is damn near useless, as far as our nervous systems are concerned.

And while randomly hanging out with friends here and there may be quite helpful actually, I don’t think that spells the necessary rewiring for those of us with insecure attachment blueprints.

My Personal Experience

When I got sober sixteen years ago, I went to a twelve-step meeting literally seven days a week for several years. It sounds insane, even to me in this moment, but at the time it was suicide or that. So I picked that.

And what I didn’t realize was happening was that I was seeing the same faces in the same places, reading the same things, praying the same prayers, discussing the same principles of recovery. People got to know me deeply, and I them. We hung out before and after meetings, we hugged, we texted and called each other to check in. We laughed, we cried. I learned unconditional caring, loving, and belonging.

I forged incredible friendships with men and women — young, old, black, white, rich, poor. Doctors, landscapers, gutter junkies. I learned the value of vulnerability, humility, honesty, authenticity, open-mindedness, surrender, acceptance, and willingness. I got to experience feeling safe, seen, soothed, and secure in relationship with other people. And that did more for my social, emotional, and mental health than anything I’ve ever done before or since.

Now, I know twelve-step ain’t for everybody. It’s got its pros and cons for sure, and I don’t give a particular shit what anyone thinks about it. But what I do know for sure is that we heal our relational trauma through relational means.

My Professional Experience

With all the clients I’ve ever worked with, those who struggle the most are invariably the most isolated, alienated, and disconnected from any type of authentic, vulnerable community. And those who recreate their lives are folks who find a vital place of belonging in churches, twelve-step fellowships, group therapy, meditation circles, dharma communities, or whatever.

In his book Change or Die, Alan Deutschman notes how, left to their own devices, 90% of heart disease patients do not change their lifestyle post-heart surgery. Yet, 77% of patients enrolled in a support group are able to maintain lifestyle changes long-term and postpone further health complications (like death).

In other words, willpower sucks, even when your life is on the line.

In Atomic Habits (theee quintessential book on behavior change), James Clear suggests that we join groups where our desired behavior is the norm. That way, with social accountability, repeated exposure and modeling, it would be difficult to not adopt healthier habits. For the insecurely attached among us, I believe this means we need to join communities where vulnerability, connection, safety, love, belonging, self-care, and radical authenticity are the expectation.

And I truly believe this is a critical element of the healing journey — more of a need than a nice-to-have.

Taking Down The Fence

My chiropractor recently told me, “Your body put up this fence for a reason. Don’t you dare take it down until you know why it’s there.” She was describing some kind of physical compensation in my spine, but it immediately struck me as a universal truth.

We put up fences of insecure attachment patterns, codependency, vulnerability avoidance tactics, etc. to protect us from unhealthy relationships. It wouldn’t make any sense to remove these protective mechanisms when our physiology is still fairly convinced that relationships are dangerous.

However, when we saturate our nervous systems with regular experiences of healthy, safe, mature connections, then we’re able to take down the fence without re-traumatizing ourselves and promptly erecting an even taller one.

But please be patient with yourself; this is not an overnight fix. It may take years to get thoroughly plugged into a healing community that feels good and right for you. Even still, I know deep down in the part of me that knows things that it’s definitely worth the effort.

As they say in recovery groups, “Bring the body and the mind will follow.”

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