Thinking about blue zones
Lucky for me, I don't have to move to the Netherlands to be happy.
It’s been a week, friends. I thought I’d be looking out on the beach today, but I’m still at my desk, seeing the unique jumble of buildings that is a Madison backyard out my window. It’s not a bad view and not the worst thing to be staying home, resting and leaning into the expansiveness of a whole week without teaching.
Everyone is okay, but there were some rough patches that reminded me once again what community really means. My dissertation research was on community and belonging in the small town where I grew up. It had been a small town. By the time I did my research, it was morphing into a suburb and I was interested in how that process affected the way people felt about their community.
One of the questions I asked was, how do you feel a sense of community and belonging in your town? I was looking for specific stories. What are the moments when you know you’re in a good place—when you feel like you belong? Can you guess what people said?
Community comes most alive for us in those rough patches. The people in my study told stories of fires or illnesses or tragedies and the way their community rallied around each other. The casseroles that show up after a death. The group that showed up to help get the hay in when someone was in the hospital. If you’re not paying attention, community is invisible until that moment when you really need it. Then, if you’re lucky, it emerges full force.
I also read an article this week about Yale’s happiness expert. Laurie Santos is a psychologist. Most happiness experts are and there’s a certain irony there. Much of the research on happiness tells us that happiness is more cultural than it is individual. Your best strategy if you want to be happy is to move to the Netherlands. It’s a so-called blue zone, a place where people on average are happiest and also live the longest.1 You can make changes as an individual that will affect your happiness—engage in less comparison or keep a gratitude journal. But long-term change on an individual level is difficult. It’s hard to become happy by yourself.
Lucky for me, I don’t have to move to the Netherlands. I might not have the research to back it up, but Madison sure feels like a blue zone to me.2 Or at least my little corner of it does. We joke in Madison that we’re the town that capitalism forgot. People often seem less concerned about making money than you might expect. Stores are open when they feel like it, which can be annoying, but is also a good role model for how to live.
People are more likely to move to Madison because it’s beautiful than because they want to get ahead. There’s a culture of hanging out—on front porches or in bars or barber shops or coffee shops. It’s imperfect, but in general, people take care of each other. When things go bad, folks step up, making you dinner or a drink, depending on the situation.
I am not a happiness expert at Yale, but here’s my advice for you—if you want to be happy, find a good community. Or make one for yourself. Community goes both ways, after all. The most misanthropic person still won’t be happy in the Netherlands or in Madison. Generalized reciprocity is the idea that if you show up for someone when they need it, someone else will show up for you when your time comes. It’s a fancy word for the idea that the good energy you send out into the universe will come back to you, even if it’s a circuitous route.
Anyway, the beach is nice, but feeling especially glad to be home this Monday.
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I could care less about living longer, really, but some people are into that.
No, people don’t live longer here, but, like I said, I don’t really care about that.