Make Lifelong Friends With This One Experiment

Dear Natural Health Solutions Reader,

One fine summer day in June 1992, I had the good fortune to share a cup of rosehip tea with Helen Nearing — one of the most original thinkers I’ve ever met.

In 1954, Helen and her husband, Scott, published Living the Good Life: How to Live Sanely and Simply in a Troubled World, which inspired thousands of young, disaffected urbanites to go back to the land in the 1960s and ’70s.

In it, she describes the couple’s path with typical directness:

“The business of procuring the necessities of life has been shifted from the wood lot, the garden, the kitchen and the family to the factory and the large-scale enterprise. In our case, we moved our center back to the land.”

The Nearings’ transition from academia (Scott had been an economics professor at Wharton) to small-scale subsistence farming had proved a path to vibrant health. Scott died at age 100 in 1983, having been hale and hearty into his late 90s.

And Helen was the most energetic 88-year-old I’d ever met — as she quick-marched the bounds of her meticulously maintained homestead in Harborside, Maine, I had to jog to match her pace. (This short video from 1976 provides a glimpse of their robust lives.)

But Helen and Scott had more to teach than how to tap a maple tree or build a root cellar.

Firmly believing that most of the world’s ills could be traced to egomania, the ever-idealistic Nearings often engaged in what might be called self-transcending experiments.

Helen’s favorite was a simple one. She explained to me that when conversing with Scott or with friends, all would agree not to use the words “I,” “me,” “my” or “mine” for a designated period, be it an hour or an afternoon.

In the years since she shared this, I’ve done it often with friends.

Typically, imposing this rule immediately halts all speech. Deprived of the ubiquitous words that refer to our favorite person, it suddenly — revealingly — becomes impossible to say anything.

But as time passes, the solution becomes clear — if I cannot talk about myself, I’ll talk about you.

And just like that, the tenor of the conversation shifts to a series of other-directed inquiries and observations:

“What do you think about this?”

“You have a great talent for painting!”

“It’s a lovely day. Would you like to go for a walk?”

We tend to believe that thought comes first and speech second, but this exercise proves that thought and speech mirror each other. Consciously refusing to speak of ourselves — and focusing, if only out of desperation, on others — spontaneously gives rise to compassion.

Do it for an hour and you are likely to make lifelong friends.

Do it for a day and you are likely to fall in love.

Which leads me to a request…

I’ve come to realize that this newsletter’s readers have a vast store of knowledge. Many of you have been gracious enough to share some of this, such as when I asked about your experiences with the best way to lose weight.

Your collective wisdom is an amazing resource. So I’d be honored if you would respond to this question:

What’s the best piece of health advice — physical, mental, or both — you ever received?

Please send it to [email protected], and expect to see it in a future NHS email. Thank you!

Brad Lemley
Editor, Natural Health Solutions