High Desert Singleton (HDS) is my personal posting category. It would mean a lot to me to celebrate what I see and to share how I feel through photographic landscapes that replenish and inspire, a poem here and there, and reflections in some if not all of these areas:
I’ve chosen to live alone since 2010.
As I was slowly spreading my wings after a lengthy live-in relationship ended, the effects of an autoimmune disease and adrenal fatigue caught up with me.
Gradually, I’ve cut down my teaching job to part-time, live frugally, and eat mindfully.
Working, hiking, writing, and friendship
With only me to focus on, I’m perpetually learning, growing, and trying out new ways to be of service in this world. Still teaching, I’ve also toyed with writing coaching, pet-sitting, and organic vegetable farming.
Much of my free time is spent in nature (by myself) or at home (by myself).
The mile high desert is ripe with beauty. On the quiet hiking trails, around dormant volcanoes, and under the colorful New Mexican sky, I feel like I can be genuinely myself.
I visit with good friends regularly and I feel a sense of community through local art events, poetry open mics, and book clubs.
I feel more tuned in to the world around me – to the darkness and to the warmth — as a single human and singleton dweller.
Cooking and dancing
I cook veggie meals and brew luscious teas for visitors and for myself pretty constantly. I appreciate that I have full command of my naturopathic kitchen and the contents of my refrigerator. I recharge in my quiet ways, and then I go back out into the world to work, socialize and explore. And yes, as with many singletons I know, dancing and otherwise flailing around my living room – absolutely.
As far as sexual relationships go, I’m still trying to figure out how to be in love without diminishing or even erasing myself. That’s what it comes down to for me: the more life experience I gain, the more protective I become of my time, energy, creativity, and solitude.
Someday, I hope to find a compatible partner. My version of “compatible” means me in my home, he in his.
I may live with others again, but only when it’s clear I can no longer afford my solo apartment, or when dependency is necessary due to my aging body or an illness for which I require support.
In turn, my wish is to have something to offer the household:
Lessons learned. Photographs. Good food. Poetry.
And if I’m – we’re — able and willing, dancing in our living room.
Thank you so much for reading.
New Mexico, USA