The secret to living longer is something I’ve done my whole life.

Friends already know that it can’t be a regular exercise routine.  The key also has little to do with refraining from smoking or drinking (although I’ve never done the former and rarely do the latter). It’s also not about eating more vegetables; staying out of debt, or finding a dream job.
 
It’s much simpler.
 
The answer is having a social life. 
 
This road to super longevity was summarized last year in a TED talk by Canadian psychologist Susan Pinker, a lecture that currently boasts more than two million hits. 
 
In her speech, Pinker describes the tiny Italian island of Sardinia.  Here, in a mountainous region that researchers have dubbed “the blue zone,” Pinker learned there are 10 times as many centenarians as those in North America.  It’s also the only place scientists know about where men live as long as women.
 
Why is this? 
 
Her curiosity piqued, Pinker and her daughter traveled to Sardinia for answers. 
 
They spent a lot of time interviewing families in cozy kitchens in Villagrande, a city in the middle of the zone. Dotted with multi-storied apartments built nearly on top of one another, the town’s hilly living quarters are also interconnected by narrow roads and alleyways.  It’s definitely a crowded layout, but because of that blueprint, everyone here knows everyone else.  
 
Pinker also observed that none of elderly residents followed a low fat diet (one centenarian prepared dozens of pasta packets, plump with rich cheese and mint, every weekend).  She also found that a happy-go-lucky personality wasn’t necessary for an extended life either (the grumpiest man in Villagrande was 101 years old). 
 
But what Pinker came away with was this: no one in Villagrande was left to lead a solitary life.
 
That lone fact, she concluded, was the strongest indicator for super longevity.    
 
Pinker goes on to say that one doesn’t have to relocate to Sardinia to get the same result.  Other studies, she adds, show that humans need only two close relationships to thrive.  These are the folks who will loan you money in a pinch; sit with you when you’re in the middle of a crisis, and bring you food when you’re sick. 
 
But there’s another predicator—more significant and perhaps more surprising—than having a few close chums.
 
And that’s daily, face-to-face contact with people who aren’t friends. 
 
This might mean handing letters to your mailman; thanking the teenager who’s bagging groceries, or waving to the woman with the beautiful garden down the street.  Talking is great, but eye contact is good, too. 
 
The reason these casual interactions is so important is this: they release all kinds of terrific brain chemicals which encourage longevity. On this list is oxytocin, the naturally produced morphine known to decrease stress levels, and dopamine, which gives off a buzz of happiness.  (Also, this can only happen when contact is in person, and never online.)     
Since I’m an inquisitive extrovert, connecting on this level is easy.   
 
But I also know that this way of navigating the world can be extraordinarily difficult for those who suffer from paralyzing shyness, or others burned one too many times by folks they thought were friends.  Being female is also a plus, since women tend to communicate with each other more, and also reach out for emotional support more than men do.  (Pinker thinks this is also the primary reason females live six to eight years longer than males.)
 
As for me, I’m happy to learn that just being who I am may help me live longer. 
 
It’s also gratifying to know this: every connection, no matter how small, counts. 

​I had a conversation with a stranger the other day, and I’m glad I did.
 
Doing so was safe.  It was a sunny afternoon and I was pumping gas into my compact silver SUV.  A vehicle pulled up behind mine, and the driver got out of his car to fill up, too. 
 
He was wearing camouflage green Army fatigues.  I waited until I caught his eye.  “Thank you for your service,” I said.
 
There was a beat.  “Oh,” he replied.  “Thank you.  I really appreciate you saying that.”
 
As I drove away, I wondered how often soldiers are approached by unknown civilians like me, saying those five words.  I hope it’s a lot—especially when I also recalled how rare it was for Vietnam vets to hear this greeting.  Instead, many came home to angry protestors spitting on them and calling them baby killers. 
 
I hope we never again engage in a war so divisive and unpopular.   Although I’m not a fan of armed conflict (I like the bumper sticker that reads I’m Already Against the Next War), our soldiers deserve to hear that we support them. 
 
That’s because while I may not agree with the cause, these fearless folks are still serving our country in situations that, at best, are intensely boring and monotonous.  At worst, they’re stationed in the sketchiest parts of the world, where they could be killed in an instant.      
 
But mostly, soldiers deserve my respect because they’re brave in other ways that most of us never have to be. 
 
Perhaps, early on, they saw no viable future in the hardscrabble communities—places including the South Side of Chicago; Native American reservations in the Dakotas, and hollers in West Virginia—where they were born and raised. The military offers these populations a way to get out.    
 
And there are other reasons, probably more common than we think.  
 
Rob Scheer is the founder of Comfort Cases, a Maryland-based non-profit that gifts new backpacks, blankets and books to foster kids.  But when he was 18 years old, a high school senior and newly kicked out of the foster system himself, Scheer found himself homeless.
 
He signed up for the Navy.  “I didn’t join the military because I loved my country,” he says.  “I was going in it because I was hungry, I was cold, I was scared, and I had nowhere to go.” 
 
Women might have other motives. 
 
Maybe they’re escaping an abusive boyfriend, father or husband.  Or perhaps not college bound, they see dead end futures as fast food workers and receptionists.  In fact, a 2017 Pew Research Center report states that 15 percent of our active personnel are women, up four points from 1990.   
 
Then, there’s this.
 
Years before same sex marriage was legal, I knew two Air Force veterans, both lesbians (although not a couple).  By the time I’d had met them, they’d already figured out that being supported by a man wasn’t ever going to be in their picture.  So they joined the service and were taught skills that turned into well-paying jobs after leaving the military.  
 
Another demographic, and it’s a growing one, is middle class young men and women who want to attend a university, but don’t want crippling student loan debt. 
 
That’s where the GI Bill comes in: created in 1944, it provides up to three years of education while a soldier is on active duty.  Veterans can also take advantage of the bill, because funding is good for 15 years following military release.  This means that with careful planning, a serviceman can obtain an undergraduate degree with zero debt.  Those who take advantage of the program are obligated to serve for four years in exchange for tuition, but it’s still a good deal. 
 
The back stories of how and why our military personnel came to wear their uniforms are as unique as each soldier. 
 
None of us can ever know every story.   As for me, I’ll just thank a soldier whenever I can. 
 
It’s the least I can do.