By now you are starting to notice my patterns. I love to quote May Sarton. I love to write about things that keep the brain engaged and healthy. I also write about the potential threats to brain health lurking in my lifestyle. Random? Let’s start with that Sarton obsession, since she’s become a bit of a writing inspiration to me. Here’s the intersection. Publishing her journals into her 80’s, mind intact, Sarton did suffer (and endured) some serious health issues, which I hope to avoid (working at it). Unlike May, I have the luxury of online access to the most up-to-date, reliable research on brain health and longevity. Like May, I love solitude, too. So what possible risk could there be in aspiring to live long, keep a journal, and carve out as much solitude as possible like Sarton? Well, one lurking out there is risk of isolation; loneliness to name names.

Many studies on Alzheimer’s prevention point to the importance of maintaining social networks as we age and the risk of isolation in accelerating cognitive decline. “Socially isolated older adults have smaller social networks, live alone and have limited participation in social activities,” says Alison Huang, Ph.D., M.P.H., senior research associate at the Johns Hopkins Bloomberg School of Public Health. “One possible explanation is that having fewer opportunities to socialize with others decreases cognitive engagement as well, potentially contributing to increased risk of dementia.”

I don’t feel I experience much loneliness unless my husband is away, so I don’t realize how easy it is for me to become isolated from “in person” connections. As I wrote about in my last post, I’ve had a long relationship with solitude. And although today, I am writing all this bravado about not being lonely and prizing my solitude, I know that might not be the case in the future. This active period of my life would be a good time to cultivate greater community and nurture relationships. Right? Ugh, but that solitude thing again. How can I find the balance? Precarious business indeed, May. Awareness of the risks is key. Sarton was calculating the risk to her creativity; I am thinking about cognitive health more broadly. I want to write AND not forget what a pencil is for.

I am older now than Sarton was when she wrote Journal of a Solitude. Like Sarton, I know solitude is my center. I have that luxury in retirement. And I am also blessed that most of the important people in my life, people I care deeply about, are still around. And even though I’m still luxuriating right now in being age 65 (it feels deliciously young to me at the start of The Precious Days), time will march on. I appreciate the wisdom of experience that Sarton shares in her book. But I do actually think my musings on solitude and loneliness are a bit different than Sarton’s, and more troubling.

What do I know now about just how dangerous the “poverty of the self” Sarton posits might be? Here is some tough love data that I think is relevant in helping anyone who’s aging mindfully walk the tightrope of aloneness (whether self-imposed or circumstantial) with some sought-after balance. Knowing these risks and being aware of strategies for prevention will benefit both the brain and longevity, and allow those of us who need that cherished solitude to intentionally balance it with social connections. To drive the point home one more time, here’s what the CDC lists as possible harmful health risks of too much isolation as we age:

• Social isolation significantly increased a person’s risk of premature death from all causes, a risk that may rival those of smoking, obesity, and physical inactivity.

• Social isolation was associated with about a 50% increased risk of dementia.

• Poor social relationships (characterized by social isolation or loneliness) was associated with a 29% increased risk of heart disease and a 32% increased risk of stroke.

• Loneliness was associated with higher rates of depression, anxiety, and suicide.

• Loneliness among heart failure patients was associated with a nearly 4 times increased risk of death, 68% increased risk of hospitalization, and 57% increased risk of emergency department visits.

That data is downright frightening. It reminds me to be aware not only of my own patterns, but also to be sure I continue to reach out to dear ones as we move through these years.

Tomorrow I am having lunch with some cherished friends. I am trying to plan to see friends once or twice a week and make sure I have some weekly outings for a change of scenery, too. I am blessed to have a husband who is also my best friend. And I know I will still have plenty of time to center myself in solitude. Feels like the right balance (for now) for The Precious Days.

How do you balance your need for connection with a need for solitude? Does one just naturally outweigh the other? Are you worried about loneliness or does it seem like a faraway concern? I love getting your comments. They signal we really are a community navigating The Precious Days not alone, but together.