Tips on Being, from a Single (Cat) Woman for my 100th Post

100th post!

Hard to decide with what to fill this milestone, but I feel okay honoring it with some self indulgence, hopefully of the variety that offers some delight or helpful advice. 

There’s war and I’ve been studying the region, history, and situation. I’ve heard some illuminating coverage through Interval.News. You can get their app through the Apple Store. Alas, as an Android user, I’ll need to wait. I’m just learning about them, so can’t vouch yet, but they are looking for an Editorial Operator, if you’re looking for a job and can stomach all the news. I’ve taken truly horrifying deep dives into the Epstein Files. I can’t read and synthesise it all, but plan to highlight some aspects on this site before long. And I have a book review and two songster interviews in play. But having woken this morning with such wholesome joy to have snuggled with my cat, I’ll start this post there.

Cinderella is 16 years old and officially Coley’s cat. But while Coley’s been away, Cinderella and I have grown thoroughly attached. It was this week last year that I brought Quinn home from a hospital stay to find Cinderella walking wonky. At work the next day, I told a friend I’m not going to spend money on a 15 year old cat. But, what can one do when in love? So that evening, I took Cinderella to the vet and a grand later, we had a diagnosis and medicine. (An efficient, kind, relatively affordable vet with great hours. At the time, given doctor fails, I wished I could take humans to her. If you’re local and need a vet, I recommend Goshen Animal Clinic.) I’m grateful for all of this time with Cinderella. Unfortunately, recent issues resulted in my not being able to sleep with her. But Quinn and Coley helped me figure that out, so last night, Cinderella slept in my bed again. 

I don’t expect to have a lot more time with her. She’s looking a bit like my old friend Tuna did in his last few weeks, God rest his soul. But she’s a might bit sweeter than Tuna. Cinderella rests on me, trusting and open, and offers me comfort and healing. When I think of those who have most helped me through the past three years, Cinderella tops the list.

I read an article entitled, “Is Having a Boyfriend Embarrassing Now?” in British Vogue in the fall and thought I might write a post on being settled as single. Now seems a good time for that. Yesterday, I skimmed what I thought a stupid article about thriving as a single woman. The author had four suggestions, including leave voice memos to yourself and seek professional help. Ha! That would hardly indicate being a single woman is a place of satisfaction and abundance. Although maybe in part; I couldn’t entirely perceive the nature of the voice memos suggested. I sometimes leave tidbits of melodies for songs on recordings for myself. Those are pretty life affirming.

I’m not going to go the direction of citing studies about relative perceived happiness of single vs. married women or married women vs. married men. Suffice it to say that an article that might imply that single women, perhaps over other demographics, may benefit from professional help is probably out of line with the research. In a quick DuckDuckGo search of articles related to single women, more pro-single / positive slant articles popped up, after ads for a bunch of dating sites. I won’t read them at this point. Instead, I’ll write my own, being well-practiced at single life.

The other two suggestions made in the article I read yesterday included journaling and forming deep friendships. Yes, 100%. But I argue that they are also essential for partnered-up women, or generally people, as well. For me, investing more time journaling and with friends, not talking about partners, but fueling experiences and wide-ranging dialogues, would have improved my quality of life and atmosphere when I had been in a relationship. I had less disposable time then than I do now and most of that and so much energy was invested in the relationship. I prioritized friends in need, but sacrificed much of that day-to-day casual interaction with friends that builds foundations and habits of connection. That turned out to be a misfortune in the wake of a bad breakup. That was over three years ago, and in that time I’ve shored myself up, lost some friends, made more, strengthened some friendships, and there’s always been Cinderella. And, of course, there’s my prophetic cat, Sunshine, my inheritance, who’s mostly adopted Quinn as hers. But Cinderella is my soulcat.

I do feel it’s a bit of a flex to get over an ex while staying single. I faced every judgement and criticism thrown at me, and looked deeply into those I claimed for myself. While lifing on, I spent hours of solitude facing myself by myself, which I learned at an early age was the hardest and most important thing we can do for ourselves, at least from my perspective. Through effort and rest, love, purpose, poetry, journaling, painting, music, spirituality, and faith, I’ve come to be most often settled and content or inspired.

With that said, of course I face challenges. Technology often drives me crazy. I hate rushing, but lack an internal sense of time that matches the world’s, so I often run late. I feel sorrows for losses, often vicariously. I’m not really aspiring to happiness. I’ve always had high tolerance for all the moods, including flavors of blue — wistfulness, melancholy, ennui… 

Today my kid said that they just want me to be happy. I suggested they modify their wish, because that just seems like too much pressure. 

I can say with certainty — be it age, wisdom, a level of safety and security that comes (somewhat ironically) from choices that panned out well, good luck, and being independent, free, and able to create space for myself — I am more fulfilled and more often delighted than I have ever been.

For the womens — some things that have helped me become and stay well. Also, since I’m a fan of inclusion, for the men too:

• Cats. If you are fortunate enough to find a cat that shares their affection with you, lean into that support and uplift. This might apply to dogs too. And rabbits. Etc.

• Journaling. I’ve already addressed this a bit, but whether or not you have good friends or a partner or no one to talk to, it’s good to pour high key trauma dumps and muddled thoughts onto paper. It spares others and sometimes yields clarity.

• Meditating. Much the opposite of journaling, where one can get caught up in all those words and attempts to reason through a world and experiences that are often unreasonable, practicing silence and surrender to the now can be a relief from angst and worry. I didn’t used to think I could meditate. All of that focus on your breath annoys me. But a bough in the wind (much like breath, I understand), a cloud-shifting sky, a candle flame, a shape behind closed eyes…

• Social Media. I’ve always been content doing things alone. It’s just different. Some things are usually better alone for me, like going to the movies, taking a long bike ride, kayaking. This may be controversial — I do find the para-social experience of posting some of my thoughts and experiences, particularly those I engage in alone, valuable. I’d prefer it if I didn’t like Facebook so much, with Zuckerberg and all, but it’s still overall good for me. I see a day when I may be off all of it and on my typewriter. But for now, needing to be online so often for so many reasons anyway, it’s nice to be able to share, even if not in real time, and have the sense of witness to my solitary escapades.

• Rituals. I enchant routines with special accents to elevate them. Sometimes this may be akin to using the good china, or adding decoration, or scent, or considering strategic use of music or sound to support engagement or bookend experience. Lighting a crackly wick candle before writing or painting is a pro life hack. At times the ritual is the activity. I’ve come to approach cooking much like that and have gotten good at creating whole food, healthy deserts and soups sans recipe.

• Protect solitude. Being single and often alone may give the illusion of having a ton of free time. I’ve recently crawled out of that trap. When I look at my calendar, I have some days blank or with only work meetings. That does not mean that the rest of the time is disposable. All time is not equal to serve creative and spiritual needs. Cleaning, exercising, chores, scheduling kids, planning, sleep… A lot of things must happen that, even when done with flare and mindfulness, do not serve as meaningful solitude. I’d love to support each of my friends at all of their shows, play music with others, go to dinner with friends, and all the things! But to be most authentically me, I need a boatload of unscheduled time alone.  

• Weighted blanket. I just bought one this fall. Why didn’t I get one before? I thankfully have no difficulties sleeping, but it makes me look forward to snuggling in. I bought them for my kids years ago, so I must’ve figured they were a good idea. Maybe this bullet should read Taking care of myself, rather than Weighted blanket, because that’s probably the crux of it. I outsource none of the responsibility for my own well-being. I’ve come to take care of myself like I would someone I love.

Take good care! Be safe. Shine on.

Cinderella with weighted blanket

Cinderella at 2 months

The OG soulcat, my beloved Samson, passed 2007, always missed. RIP