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.)

I have been working quite a bit on the last two cultural boxes i want to continue to examine in 2012. Both are related to how we view relationships. Culture tells us that we are only a mature adult if we’re in a coupled relationship, preferably one that is sanctioned by culture as marriage. I want to continue to empower myself and others to define our relationships in ways that nurture us, that meet our needs in ways that are life-affirming. Connected to that is an exploration into the sex-negative messages in our culture that tightly weave together intimacy, sensuality, and sexuality – often equating all three. I am in the process of untangling that, which sometimes is a bit confusing because i have learned, for example, that cuddling with a man i am not in a coupled relationship with isn’t okay (because it will lead to sex – that cuddling can just be cuddling seems to be impossible).

While i am pushing my own boundaries, i will be developing my right livelihood, which will teach us – yes, me included – how we can rewire our brains to affirm our choices that go against the dominant culture’s grain. Based on my research – i love that i can write this now – i can say that we cannot live in new ways simply by making that choice. Dominant culture is way too ingrained in us, in fact, it’s wired into our brains! So, instead of chastising ourselves for not “being the change,” we can learn to untangle ourselves from the cultural messages and in the process literally rewire our brains. I’ll share more about this as i develop my ideas!

Then i stumbled onto a free belly dance class. I didn’t even think about it as an outlet for that energy… Slowly, i am realizing that it is! The movements are very sensual – i guess there is a reason why men find it so sexy… And i am really enjoying learning to move parts of my body i usually don’t move – like my hips or even my shoulders. It turns out to be much harder than it looked at first. I even started doing some drills (we’ll see how long that’ll last ). It’s all about isolating certain parts of our bodies while holding others still.

Whether this is making celibacy any easier or not, i don’t know, partly because it wasn’t difficult for me to begin with. I know my energy comes in cycles, and the sexual variety isn’t any different. I am having fun, though, exploring a new way of moving my body. And i get to listen to some of the music that i’ve been enjoying already. Just the dance moves have changed.

As a spinster by choice, a woman who weaves her own life, i am interested in building a support network that replaces the traditional family (both nuclear and extended) with a network of people i chose. I envision that this network offers mutual support and helps us all live more resilient, secure lives because we know there are others who have our backs. I’d love to have connections where i could call someone to chat, to vent, to cry. And i’d love to know who i could call to do some spontaneous thing like go on a walk, watch a sunset, or even share some dinner. If i sprain my ankle, i am comfortable asking for help because i trust in the mutuality. It is a supportive community where we help each other grow by offering full acceptance to each other no matter how much we stumble or get stuck in patterns (we might point that out gently, though). Ultimately, i would enjoy having this kind of community in a shared living space.

Yesterday, as i was musing over my frustration with one particular strategy of building community, i realized a few things. I am sharing them here in the hopes that they inspire others! I know i am not the only one struggling with this since it’s touching on topics in at least two books (Bowling Alone and The Gifts of Imperfection)

• It helps to have clarity around what exactly i am looking for. In NVC-speak, i want to understand what needs i am trying to meet. This then helps me find strategies, including modifying current strategies.
• Somewhat related: There are seeds of community sprouting in my life. Most of these are virtual, so i wouldn’t be able to do the spontaneous dinner thing. Yet, they are tremendously supportive. I want to continue to nourish these.
• Along the lines of Donna Marie’s comments: Be the community i want to build. Instead of waiting for someone to call, call someone.
• Look at my own points of resistance, which includes figuring out why i might not make that call and what thoughts i might be carrying around that could be counterproductive
• Figure out how i can focus on the things that work in my life rather than what isn’t. I suspect that a gratitude practice can help me counteract that tendency. I want to compost my pessimism!

Ultimately, then, community for me is about authenticity: Creating a space, living in a space, where i can be fully authentic because i trust that others will receive me with care and compassion (and we have the skills to get there if it’s not the first reaction) and where i offer others the same opportunity.

About 100 million Americans, nearly half of all adults, are unmarried, according to the Census Bureau — yet they tend to be overlooked by policies that favor married couples, from family-leave laws to lower insurance rates.

That national bias is one reason gay people fight for the right to marry, but now some researchers are concerned that the marriage equality movement is leaving single people behind.

Hat tip to Bella DePaulo who summarized the NYT article here.