Community counts

I read an article weekend before last where a 30 something single woman said she is fine being single and wrote that she took offence when others (not single) would give her the pity look. She wrote in a manner which suggested other singles of her vintage felt the same way (I would have posted the link to the article, but this is the best I found on a quick google search for it: http://earlybirdcatchestheworm.wordpress.com/2011/05/25/newspaper-clipping-of-the-week-all-the-single-ladies/)

I could be off doing adventurous, culturally enriching and spiritually enhancing things overseas as I have no dependents by way of children or partner, but it has been my choice and circumstance that I am Melbourne-bound.

I have a 17 year old pet dog who is too old to leave with others for care and too able to send off to doggie heaven before his time (yes, 17 is a fabulous innings - Walter is a most special dog).

And while I consider everyday with Walter a blessing, outside the pet ownership - confessional...life can be lonely. Lonely living in a city where your best friends from your fun and carefree 20s have either moved away or long been coupled up and raising young kids. The single mates I do have are living interstate or overseas, doing what I would be if I didn’t have Walt.

So unlike the warrior single from the article who vouched she's happy with said status, I’ve declared as a single woman that the 30s can be tough.

As a single like me, you’re likely to be one of the very few in your friendship circle, and if you’re not, life’s going to be completely hectic with a partner and young kids - too chaotic to catchup over brunch or yoga class with a single friend.

During such times, most people can lean on their family, but on that accord I’m more a character from Sex and the City (yes, ok, Samantha wins here in terms of character likeness (but more for her direct and no bullshit style than promiscuous bedroom antics - let me assure you!)) than Brothers and Sisters.

I lost my mother 15 years ago and my only brother lives in Adelaide with his wife and their two young children – again, hectic, not much time to nurture his sister's lonely heart (although he does a good job trying - thanks bro).

My mother had three sisters, all of whom are wonderful sources of support – but again, they’re in Adelaide and they themselves have their own lives and families.

So more and more I’m on my own.

To help combat the sense of aloneness, I have for some time interwoven my wellbeing with a connectness to community. This provides a level of comfort and company when I’d love to have more of it from the friends and family in my life.

It’s the married yoga instructor who asks me how life’s going (thanks gorgeous Chris); and reads excepts from books offering up tit bits of wisdom about dealing with every day life (your "being human is a guest house - greet everyone (happiness) and anyone (malice) with a smile for it's a guide bringing exactly what you need" helped thanks Jen); comments on my new hair colour "I'm liking the red" (from Amanda the 50 something rocking yoga guru at Fitzroy yoga); Sam, the naturopath who smiles and greets me at the health food store at the South Melbourne markets (high protein low carbs Caroline); Robin, the pet food store owner who has never asked my name but calls me “Walter’s mum” every time I visit and gives Walt a regular treat.

It’s young, spunky Matt who takes my Wednesday night spin class who I overhear talking to others about marathons he’s been busy prepping for or about the status of the baby he’s about to have (and would have had by now).

The list goes on.

Yes, politicians will sprout the values of community and its benefits to people's mental and emotional health (and Lord Mayor Rob Doyle does live around the corner).

I find myself the Cate Blanchett poster girl for advocating the benefits of their spin.

Keep community close because the loose netted support these friendly acquaintances bring, can just be the thread magic weaves.