Loneliness, Community, and the Heart
february 3, 2026 • Written by naturopathic doctor Hannah webb
Over the past decade, a growing body of research has shown that social isolation and chronic loneliness are associated with a significantly increased risk of heart disease and stroke.
When we think about cardiovascular disease, we tend to think about cholesterol, blood pressure, exercise, and diet. These things matter, of course.
But there is another risk factor that is quieter, harder to measure, and often overlooked: loneliness.
Over the past decade, a growing body of research has shown that social isolation and chronic loneliness are associated with a significantly increased risk of heart disease and stroke.
The effect is not small. Loneliness has been linked to higher rates of inflammation, increased stress hormone activation, poorer sleep, and less resilience in the nervous system — all pathways that directly affect cardiovascular health. In other words, our hearts are not only mechanical pumps; they are deeply responsive to how connected and supported we feel in our lives.
This matters here, especially on an island where many people live independently, far from family, or with limited daily social contact. Loneliness does not always look like being alone. Some people feel deeply lonely while surrounded by others. What matters most is not the number of people in our lives, but whether we feel seen, known, and held in relationship.
The good news is that community is something we can build — gently, imperfectly, and over time.
One of the most reliable ways to cultivate connection is simply showing up in the same place repeatedly. A weekly class, a standing walk with a neighbour, volunteering in the same spot, attending the same gathering over months or years. Familiarity builds trust. Over time, faces soften, conversations deepen, and a sense of belonging begins to form without force or effort.
Sometimes, building community requires inconvenience. It means going to the birthday dinner even when you’re tired. It means saying yes when staying home would be easier. These small acts of showing up — not because it’s optimal, but because it matters — are the threads from which community is woven. Hearts thrive on reliability, not perfection.
Physical space matters too. When we make space — a table, a kitchen, a garden, a shared room — connection often happens naturally. Humans are social by design. When bodies share space, rhythms align. Conversation emerges. Laughter follows. We don’t have to orchestrate intimacy; we just have to allow room for it.
Sharing meals is one of the oldest and most powerful ways we connect. Eating together slows us down. It synchronizes our nervous systems. It reminds us that nourishment is not only nutritional, but relational. The same is true for shared experiences — working toward something together, learning together, grieving together, changing together. Transformation is rarely a solo endeavour.
Community does not need to be large or elaborate. A few steady relationships can be profoundly protective for heart health.
The invitation is not to add another task to your to-do list, but to recognize that connection itself is a form of care.
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Disclaimer: Information can be empowering, but we all have unique health profiles and needs. Health-related information contained in this article is intended to be general in nature and should not be taken as medical advice nor should it be used as a substitute for a visit with a licensed health care provider.