Esther Perel said it best, and it hit me hard.

"What if connection is what helps us survive these rapidly shifting times?"
– Esther Perel
I stopped scrolling when I read that line.
It wasn't just a quote.
It was a quiet invitation to look up and look inward.
Esther Perel has long been one of those voices I turn to when I need clarity.
For years, I saw her as the relationship expert, the one who made sense of love, desire, trust, and rupture with a depth that felt both deeply intellectual and deeply human.
If you’re not familiar with her work, I highly recommend exploring it. She’s one of the most insightful and emotionally articulate voices of our time, and her reflections stretch far beyond just romantic relationships.
And recently, I have come across some of her broader quotes about the collective.
The social.
The cultural.
The existential.
And suddenly, I find her words landing right in the centre of my own work.
"Amid the chaos of the meta crisis, our longing for each other remains unwavering."
I've spent the past few years writing about loneliness, designing for connection, and trying to understand what happens to our nervous systems in cities that weren't built for belonging.
But reading Esther's words makes me pause.
Not because they're new, but because they name something I've been circling around for a long time.
We need each other.
Not in theory.
Not in some utopian future.
But now, right here, in the thick of everything.
Let's talk about it.
Esther Perel's presence in the public space is something I find continually inspiring.
She's that rare kind of thinker who brings emotional literacy into the mainstream, with warmth, honesty, and elegance.
Whether through her books, her iconic podcast Where Should We Begin?, or the little phrases that land like poetry in an Instagram caption, her work makes room for all the messiness of being human.
And lately, she's offering a kind of cultural anchoring.
Not just relationship advice, but relationship philosophy.
About how we relate to each other at large in a world that feels increasingly chaotic.
I often say that belonging is not a bonus feature.
It's not a wellness perk or a nice-to-have community moment.
It's an evolutionary need.
A biological survival mechanism.
In the research I work with, we consistently see that loneliness isn't just emotional; it's physiological.
But what does that mean?
The brain processes social rejection using the same neural pathways as physical pain. (Find more about that in the article The Pain of Social Rejection and more…)
And our bodies respond to disconnection with increased cortisol, inflammation, and stress.
"It is precisely in this challenging terrain that the opportunity for deep, meaningful connection arises, not despite the difficulty, but because of it."
– Esther Perel
When things get hard, we don't just crave safety.
We crave each other.
If you've followed my writing, you'll know that I often examine how we unintentionally design and continue to design disconnection into the world around us.
(You can find my list of articles here.)
We planned cities around vehicles instead of people.
We built office buildings for productivity, not intimacy.
We created digital platforms for efficiency, but at the expense of serendipity and the slow moments of human connection.
We didn't mean to make it this way.
But now we have to ask: how do we build our way back?
This is where Esther's words offer powerful framing.
That connection isn't something we reach for after we've solved the crisis.
It's what helps us survive it.
Real connection doesn't always show up as big, dramatic gestures.
Sometimes it's:
- A neighbour waving from their window.
- A shared bench at the park.
- A regular at your café, remembering your name.
These moments are micro-doses of belonging.
They seem small, but neurologically and emotionally, they're enormous.
And now, seeing Esther speak about intimacy in this broader, cultural, even urban sense, it just confirms something I've felt all along:
That we don't just want to feel safe.
We want to feel seen.
Esther Perel's words have helped many of us understand ourselves better, in our love lives, family stories, and personal patterns.
But now, she's also helping us understand something else:
That connection isn't just a private experience.
It's a social lifeline.
A cultural glue.
A way through the noise.
In the end, connection is how we stay human in a world that's moving faster than we are.
Lots of love,
Stina