Since moving to a new town, I’ve found myself thinking a lot about friendship. Not just the casual “hi, how are you?” connections, but the deep, life-giving friendships that shape who we are.
Personally, I’ve made it a mission to bring a little of that 80s lifestyle back to life in our home and neighborhood. Bikes line our front yard, helmets scattered across the driveway, ready for spontaneous rides with the kids and neighbors. Our door is always open, literally and figuratively, and we’ve made a habit of inviting friends over for what I call “laundry parties,” where we fold clothes together, share meals, and let life happen in all its glorious kid-filled chaos.
We’ve intentionally turned off the tech, swapping screens for real connection. Board games replace scrolling; outdoor adventures replace binge-watching; hand-written notes replace texts. As often as possible, we choose the analog life: the smell of fresh-cut grass, the sound of wheels on pavement, the simple joy of neighbors stopping by just to chat.
It’s a lifestyle that reminds us what childhood and friendship were meant to feel like: simple, shared, and deeply human. A place where kids run free, adults slow down, and community isn’t a concept but a lived reality.
There’s science behind this: friendships aren’t just a “nice to have.” They’re essential for mental and physical health. Studies show that strong friendships reduce stress, lower the risk of heart disease, and even improve longevity. During seasons of loneliness, our brains and bodies respond as if we’re facing a threat, triggering stress hormones and impacting immune function. Loneliness isn’t just a feeling - it’s a physical burden.
Over the past few years, I’ve encountered many people who have recently moved, feeling the ache of disconnection. There’s a subtle but profound grief in leaving old friends behind and starting over. Yet, I’ve also witnessed the beauty of being a real friend. Friendship, at its core, requires perspective, the ability to listen, to show up consistently, to see someone fully, and to be seen in return. True friendship is a rare redemption in a world that often feels hurried and transactional.
Historically, friendships were celebrated as sacred. The philosopher Cicero wrote about the value of friendship as a guiding force in life, more precious than gold or power. In past generations, letters, walks, and shared meals were ways people maintained connection, long before the digital distractions of today. These practices remind us that friendship is cultivated, not discovered by accident.
The redemption of friendship is this: even when life moves fast and circumstances change, a real friend meets you with presence, patience, and perspective. Friendship is not about quantity, it’s about depth, resilience, and mutual nourishment.
So, if you’re in a season of loneliness, or if you’ve recently moved and feel disconnected, know this: your cup may feel empty now, but the art of building friendship is alive. Be brave, reach out, and cultivate connections that feed the soul. You might be the friendship someone else has been waiting for, too. And if your cup is already overflowing, find space to make room for more.
Let’s be the ones who say, “There’s always room for one more at the table.”
