
Who pushes you to be better, even if they don’t know or intend it?
Simon Sinek and Adam Grant.
Chris Evert and Martina Navratilova.
Apple and Microsoft.
Michael Jordan and Isiah Thomas.
Christian Dior and Yves Saint Laurent.
The University of Chicago and Northwestern.
Competitors and rivals. Each unique and outstanding in style, substance, and mission, but similar enough to be compared, contrasted, and set at odds. But each half of the pair makes the other better; they keep each other driven to stay in the game. Thus they each spur the other to learn, grow, and evolve. Their respective fields all benefit widely from their public rivalry, elevating standards and aspirations for all: win-win-win.
Oneira and Steranos, the most powerful sorceress and sorcerer, respectively, exemplify this integrated dichotomy in Jennifer K Lambert’s Never the Roses. Pitted against one another for decades of war costing fortunes, lives, and their own consciences, they finally connect in real life (as opposed to ‘remotely’, each locked away in their own respective kingdom directing warfare from afar) when Oneira retires and decides to visit Steranos’s personal library surrepticiously one night, the most serious and skillful oneiromancer who committed one of the gravest atrocities of wartime, pranking her erstwhile nemesis on an impulsive whim. Thus begins a magical slow burn, sensual yet low spice, playful yet tragic love story of two individuals for whom true understanding and full acceptance can only be found in each other. Their knowledge, skill, and power, literally unrivaled by anyone else in the world, makes them the perfect diametrical foes and exquisitely matched lovers and allies.
I adore this story becuase it makes me grateful to have in my life so many intellectual and relational equals. “Iron sharpens iron,” my friend says. When I engage you in wit, query, and debate, when we compare and exchange perspective at the highest levels of curiosity and possibility, OH how my mind positively tingles! My best insights and thought integrations occur during these sparkling conversations and I just cannot get enough. We make each other better in all the most meaningful ways, but most of all we each truly see and feel seen by the other. That sensation de-escalates the nervous system, settles it into a place of safety and acceptance. I’m starting to think there may be no substitute for this singular feeling and the benefits thereof.
How fascinating–the only people I share this relationship with whom I’d actually call rivals are my Red voting friends. Is it semantics? I am weirdly averse to the idea of competition–do I hate losing that much? …Do I meet worthy rivals in the gym? Maybe. Hmmm, this may be worth exploring more. I wonder if I have any other books to reference in the query? Maybe one will come to me by this time tomorrow. Good night, dear readers!


