I was asked to review Eric Klinenberg’s new book Going Solo. A sucker for free books, i agreed not realizing that i might end up reading a book in less time than i would enjoy. Fortunately, the book isn’t one of those back-handed singlist books, so cramming wasn’t too painful.

Aside from its groundedness in research that Bella DePaulo already noted, what i most enjoyed about the book is that Eric isn’t afraid to look at the dark side of being single – or being a singleton, as Eric calls those of us who are single and live alone. The feminist Texan recounts her own experience of being totally alone when sick. Eric adds other stories and asks: What will it be like for singletons when we are too sick to care for ourselves? Will our friendship networks hold up then? Or will we fall back onto the support of our biological family?

Eric touches the fear i have felt, asks the questions i have tried to avoid asking. It is scary to face these questions! And yet there are there like an undercurrent, especially for me because i am also creating my own right livelihood, which in a lot of ways increases my reliance on others. So, Eric dares to ask the touch questions.

He doesn’t stop there, though. Eric doesn’t give the usual answers to these tough questions. He doesn’t tell me that the solution for me is to get married, to go get a job, or whatever cultural quick-fix might be thrown at me. Based on his research, he knows that singletons are here to stay. We are increasing in numbers. We won’t go away. So, instead of calling (only) upon individual solutions, he suggests cultural, social changes: Let’s redesign the way we live to provide the support, connections, and safety we all long for. We cannot legislate away singletons. We can however design our cities to allow for connections beyond family ties and we can nourish these connections by supporting them through legislation. It’s really about community building that consciously increases the responsibility we sense for each other, acknowledging our interdependence rather than pretending that we can all be an island onto ourselves. Eric provides some examples of “states and societies that [...] give singletons the kinds of support that they now offer to those who are married [and are] better able to meet their citizens’ needs” (213).

I read this book as a call to recognize the importance of supporting each other for all of us. Nobody is truly fully supported unless we extend our willingness to help each other beyond biological or marital ties. This will, as Eric puts it at the end of his book, “spark new ideas about how we might better live together.” And, yes, that’s what this is all about: Not living alone but rather living our interdependence.

(You can read other reviews from the book’s tour site.)

 

Not sure if it is my regular practice of writing morning pages, all the inner work i’ve been doing, or my general increased self-awareness, whatever it is, i have been noticing some interesting tendencies in my mind. It seems bend on proving my core beliefs – there is something wrong with me and i don’t matter. To do that, it scans the environment trying to find that proof. And then it turns everything around to use as proof. Someone looks at me without a smile, my mind interprets it as judgmental. Someone doesn’t email me for a day or two. They don’t care about me. It dismisses phone calls with four people, using not getting a hug as proof of my unworthiness. Useful feedback is twisted to become attacks on my very being.

It’s starting to be funny to watch. Okay, yes, i often still get pulled in. I am hoping, though, that having more awareness of my minds tendency will help me to counteract it more. Because deep down, somewhere in the crevasses of my system, i know that i am worthy, that i matter. And i also know that there isn’t some horrible dark thing hidden somewhere in my psyche that will scare people away when they find it. Yet, my mind’s scanner is still looking for proof of these old core beliefs. And maybe that’s just how the mind works…

 

Mourning how hard it is for me to hear
that i matter to someone
that someone enjoys my presence.
My mind scans the environment
to find evidence that disproves
that i matter.
The look of a stranger
is interpreted as disapproval.
A friend’s shifting plans
are seen as not mattering.
A surprise connection
is ignored because
it does not fit with
my mattering.
I can’t possibly be
lovable.
It can’t be true that
people care about me
that i matter.
They’ll go away again.
Soon.
They always do.
And then i’ll be back in
the lonely hole of shame
behind the mask that
hides my pain.
The fear of opening up
to the love
is closing my heart.
It’s too dangerous to feel.
And yet i am tired of
living with a closed heart.
So maybe i can take a risk.
Just for five minutes today.
And believe that
i matter
i am lovable
even without reminders
without mirrors.
Just the way i am.
What others do (or not do)
does not call this into question.
I matter. No matter what.
And maybe tomorrow
i’ll believe it for 6 minutes.
Just like that.
Opening the door to my heart.

Jan 162012
 

It is the mask i carry
to hide my pain.
My story is that
it helps me to stay connected.
If you saw what’s underneath,
you’d run screaming.
It is hard to connect with The Face
since it keeps me from seeing
the love and care
that is flowing from you.
Removing The Face,
my reservoir of mattering
is slowly filling up again.
It has cracks.
The love is not contained.
It flows into me
through me
back out into the world.
That is power.
To know my mattering
To know that i am loved.
To love.
In community, the reservoir
doesn’t dry out again.
The Face cannot sustain itself
without a drought.
Feeling the love
i can step into my power.

 

I think it was George Lakoff who suggested that the “health care” debate would have gone differently if we had called the system sickness profiteering. It describes this system better, he argued, because there’s neither health nor care in it.

I remembered his words today as i was learning that insurance doesn’t really insure that i would get the care i need (something i knew already, at least theoretically). With a clogged up ear for two days that was starting to hurt again, i saw someone in my doctor’s office. She prescribed three things: eardrops for the pain, a nasal spray to declog me, and antibiotic eardrops to prevent the infection from getting worse. So far so good. She sent the scripts to a pharmacy a few blocks away. I walked there, stood in line for a bit, and then found out that they no longer contract with my insurance company. I wasn’t exactly thrilled by that but thought that i’d rather have the meds and go home for a nap than do anything else. I asked the person helping me how much it would cost me. All three meds would be $300! That was way over my budget, so i asked him to tell me how much each med was. It turned out that the antibiotic was the most expensive. Exactly the med i most needed (assuming this really is a bacterial infection, which is another story…). So, i asked if he could transfer the scripts to a different pharmacy. He could and he did. Except that this other pharmacy was two steep hills away – and i walked there, getting somewhat exhausted on a low-grade fever. Except that this other pharmacy was swamped with transfer prescriptions from that big chain pharmacy that no longer had a contract with a major insurance company. I would get my meds in two days. Not sure if it was my pointing out that i had an acute ear infection or my tears of frustration that convinced the person at the counter that he could expedite the process. He got it down to about an hour and a half. It took longer because they called the insurance company to find out if it indeed was true that they weren’t covering the antibiotic. So, over $150 later, i am hoping that the antibiotic really is necessary – after all this might be a viral infection – and will indeed speed up my healing.

Overall, this was a reminder of why the critique of systems is so necessary while holding the people in them with compassion. At least the two men who had helped me at the pharmacies were tremendously helpful. They were just as frustrated about the system. If insurance would work the way it is supposed to, it would help me care for my health. If there were no profit to be made from people being sick, medications would be affordable even without insurance. And, yes, i could have done my research still in the doctor’s office by calling the insurance company to find out the prices of the meds and then asked my doctor to prescribe something less expensive or something that had been on the market long enough for a generic to be available. Though when i am sick, the last thing i want to do is do research. I just want to get well again. You know, like, healthy.

 

My intention for 2012 is to show up authentically and vulnerable – and to hold myself with acceptance and compassion when i get scared to do so. My intention for 2012 is to step into my power – and realize that being strong doesn’t mean to be perfect or not to show weakness.

My recent bout with insomnia helped me realize that i am terrified to admit that i am tired, that i want rest or take a break. Because somehow that didn’t fit into my picture of stepping into my power! So, my intention for 2012 is to embrace all of me – flaws and all! Whether i can sleep or not…

Happy New Year!

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