Summer officially began today, around 4am Eastern Time. It’s Father’s Day. The days get shorter in the Northern Hemisphere starting now and for the next six months. Nature’s cycles march onward. Have I appreciated and reveled in this season so far? I think yes. How ’bout you?
No burning questions or popping epiphanies tonight, friends. Just a wonderful sense of gratitude and contentment at life. Looking, listening, and feeling around me, it’s no wonder.
The family is well overall. No acute or severe health crises, relationships are stable–what more do we need, really? Surviving major challenges and threats in both of these realms makes one appreciate when things are quiet, stable, and well.
Daughter is home, which means I’m spending more time in the ‘woods’ by the house. That means more photos for the blog, more bug bites, and learning about thrips–tiny, kiwi hair-sized bugs that live on the mulberries that grow in the neighborhood.
Daughter and I are also taking a pottery class together–tomorrow will be the third of five classes. I shake my head at the contrast: I last touched clay 26 years ago, before I had kids, over half my life ago. I can’t remember how long I did it, but I was there at all hours of the day and night and produced over 400 pieces. I have about four pots to show for it so far this time, and it’s been harder than I anticipated to recall the skills. Maybe I’ll just have to keep going! We still use many of the bowls I made back in 2000; hoping I can add some nice ones to the collection in 2026.
I’m very proud of the progress I’m making in the gym. 285# barbell hip thrust, 195# trap bar dead lift, and 145# barbell back squat, each for at least four reps, are my favorite accomplishments so far this year. I’m still working toward that one, good, unassisted pull up by Christmas–we shall see! And if not by Christmas or not ever, it’s okay! I can still continue to show up and practice. I finally felt worthy of adding another sticker to my water bottle:
Water bottle sticker: “Shhh… I’m doing math” next to a pile of barbell weight plates
Book writing enters the sixth month of consistent work, wow. What a labor of love, oh my gosh. It’s very much tied to my time at Ethos; my mind is clear and my mood elevated after a challenging workout surrounded by friends. The co-working space is open, bright, and also full of people I love. It’s the perfect setting to do my best reflecting and writing, and insights occur to me on each page that I don’t think would emerge any other way. I wonder if this is why I feel less driven to journal, although jar smile and snail mail writing continue at a regular, rewarding, and joyous pace. There is just something about writing that frees my soul… I wish for everybody to find something in life that feels this great!
What’s got your attention this season, friends? How does the chaos and uncertainty in our world affect you? I reflect on my privilege a lot lately, but don’t feel moved to write deeply about it here… yet. Our perspectives determine our perceptions, which influence or determine our beliefs, and thus our actions and thus our relationships, and thus our lives. So if we wish to live magnanimously, empathetically, generously, informedly, and understandingly, we must broaden our perspectives. Easier said than done, and almost always better with kind and direct guidance from others. Maybe more on this another day.
Life feels smooth and calm at the moment. I know it will not always be this way. So I pay attention and store up the positive energy. When harder times hit later, I will look back and know that I knew it and appreciated it when things were good, and that will hold me up until things are good again. Peace, friends. It’s what I wish for us all.
Sharing tonight my review of Something Extraordinaryby Alexis Hall, because once again I sit both enthralled and hung over, re-listening to (reliving!) my favorite passages while marking up the hastily obtained print copy, playing or quoting lines to Daughter because I just cannot help myself, I love it so much.
Posted to Audible: “Wild, hilarious, heartwarming ride of love in all its forms! “Love is love and it SAVES US. Human connection in any context, often despite our most counter-connecting behaviors, is so much more possible than we think! Not with everybody, but with far more folks than we assume, if we only keep our hearts open and vulnerable enough to risk it. That is what this book reminds me. I cannot count the number of times I went from brow-furrowingly sad empathy to laughing out loud to clipping a passage for further philosophical consideration, all in the space of a few minutes. Have already quoted, described, and recommended this story to anyone who crossed my path this week. Ell Potter and Steve West perform all of the characters with distinction and grace, and their voices for the supporting characters even match, making the listening experience that much more delightful. I forwent sleep and life tasks for this audiobook, for the integrated marvel of this story brought forth by the author and voice actors. God bless βem.”
This is the third book of Hall’s Something Fabulous series. I listened to a long preview of Book One, Something Fabulous, which I did not go on to finish, and I only read the overview of Book Two,Something Spectacular. I think they are not meant to be standalone novels, but I did not feel lost in the least picking up the series at the end. The main characters’ personalities and relationship are clearly established in advance, yet develop and deepen meaningfully throughout this story.
As in Never After, Hall explores sexuality and the social norms that constrain it with depth, compassion, and stark honesty about our capacity for both generous, loving acceptance and rigid, shaming rejection of our fellow humans. The characters’ clever banter, as well as their touching dialogues, both inner and exchanged, bring reader/listener to a much deeper level of empathy and tender, gentle human awareness than most romances I come across. The writing is both subtle and blatant in turn, and lyrical as ever (see below for some choice exerpts).
Human relationships are messy and complex in any context. Holding, honoring, and then navigating the consequences of natural yet unconventional preferences and desires in the face of punishing social pressures is something many of us may not live first hand. Hall’s books generously, humorously, and lovingly provide us with a window into that experience, inviting us all to open our minds and hearts to our shared humanity no matter who we are and how we identify. The story reads deliciously long and languid, topsy turvy, hilarious and tearful, and leaves us wishing all our fellow humans to find love that provides safety, uplift, and peace. Witty, sparkling dialogue and an utterly whimsical plot hooked and enchanted me throughout. But the deeply humane, gentle yet assertive explorations of love, faith, world view, and reconciliation will keep me reflecting and seeking conversation with friends for weeks to come.
Please find my favorite quotes below, and beware the possiblitity of spoilers. I will enjoy these sections for a while yet, and dive deeper yet into Alexis Hall’s other worlds. I bet you’ll see more of their work shared here shortly. Wishing all a lovely week ahead!
Audible review: 5 stars overall and for performance and story
“…He had wanted from her what he always wanted… what he had spent so many years hopelessly seeking in the bodies of strangers. “Once upon a time, he would have called it love and asked no questions. But the word seemed bigger and smaller than he remembered–differently shaped and less perfectly fitting. No wonder, then, he thought ruefully, that he had been unable to find what he was looking for, if he hadn’t understood what it was. Perhaps that was why he’d always clung to those who did not want him–willing to do almost anything to ensure they didn’t become someone else who wouldn’t stay–when he should have paid more attention to those he’d let go.”
“There was something strange happening to Rufus’s heart. He normally conceived it as hard and gnarled, like a peach pit. Now it was as soft as the peach itself. ‘I… I’m flattered, Bellflower. I do not think anyone has ever felt jealous over me in my entire life.'”
[Belle] “…’If it is not acceptable for ladies to be coerced into sexual encounters, then it should not be acceptable for gentelmen, either.’ [Sir Horley/Rufus] “‘I don’t mind.’ “‘Don’t overwhelm me with your ardour or anything,’ muttered the highwaryman. “Rufus glanced at him. ‘I’m sorry. Take me now, you scurrilous devil. Is that better?’ “‘A bit. But could you put more feeling into it?’
“… Strange how quickly you could grow accustomed to things. Even relatively inconsequential ones like sharing space. One would have thought, after long days in a carriage with Belle, he would want distance, not increased closeness. But she had awoken some brutal, terrifying hunger in him, and now he missed the certainty of her body tucked behind him…He missed being held… The cold feet she would plunge mercilessly between his knees as though she had the absolute right to his body heat. “Since Belle had been shot, he had been clinging to anger like driftwood… until all that remained was fear. “Particularly useless fear, even by the standards of that specific emotion, because it couldn’t change anything. It could only strike out of nowhere like a snake and fill him full of poison, for he could so easily have lost Belle today… Now, though, it just made him feel a kind of pre-emptive grief. For the possibility of a life he could still not truly picture, and would never have chosen, but which nevertheless gleamed richly with the promise of unimagined, undared contentment.”
[Discussing Memoirs of a Woman of Pleasure by John Cleland, a real novel from 1749] [Belle] “‘Why was it banned, then?’ [Gil, the highwayman] “‘For the same reason most things are: fear and ignorance. In this case, I suspect it has something to do with the fact the book takes as axiomatic that women can be creatures of pleasure just as men can.’ [Belle] “‘And yet,’ she asked, ‘it is not worth reading?’ [Gil] “‘You may if you wish. It’s not really my place to decide for you. Though try not to, you know, fold the pages back or spill beans over it. Very few copies of this book are still in circulation.’ “‘Surely it will be unbanned sometime soon?’ “‘Surely,’ echoed Gil, though he did not sound very convinced on the matter. “‘Well, the idea of a woman liking sex can’t remain so very shocking, can it? I expect we can figure that out in, say, less than a hundred and fifty years.’ “‘Oh please,’ Rufus swiped his had disdainfully through the air, as though dismissing the decades to come. ‘A hundred and fifty years to concede women are people? Give us two hundred and ten, and we will probably still be banning books and hating each other.’ [Gil] “‘I fear his cynicism is not wholly without merit. But… I shall nevertheless join you in hoping for better from posterity.'”
Do you find yourself asking your people this more often lately? It’s a heavier question today than in times past, no? What are we really asking? What do we want to know (or not)? I opened last week’s post by asking, and again today; the redundance feels important and necessary.
It’s Pride Month, and I’m seeing a lot less of the “Wishing all the homophobes a super uncomfortable month” memes now compared to last year, which I’m glad about. I thought about updating my dissent post today, but I think it still stands strong on its own: “…The best intention of this message, I think, is solidarity and allyship. The impact may be very different. I can imagine someone who feels uncomfortable, for whatever reason, with non-cis/het identity feeling rejected, shamed, and even hated by this message. What response is this likely to engender? How does that make anything better for anyone? How does it advance the cause? “…If we were all better at embracing our various discomforts (healthy eating, exercising more, being more honest with ourselves and others, having the hard conversations, etc.), at making it safe for one another to engage with and overcome them, how would that feel? How would our relationships and communities be? Right now we make it safe to respond to our discomforts with rage, blame, and dehumanizing. When I see people wishing discomfort on others, Iβm disappointed. “We can do better.”
A friend and I have exchanged messages about the value of discomfort, how it makes us stop and take perspective, how it shapes us and can make us better.
“A comfort zone is a beautiful place, but nothing ever grows there.” –unattributed
I still never wish discomfort on anyone. But I’m happy to encourage folks to embrace its inevitability and possibility for growth through it. Let us seek and engage with the worthy discomforts–those which move us through our stagnant assumptions and mental rigidities toward creativity, discovery, and deeper connection. And let’s do it together–mutually supportive and loving, striving always for better understanding, acceptance, and community through the joys and challenges of diversity and inclusion.
Embracing our discomfort often means acknowledging and facing our fears. Fear is a legitimate and important emotion, required for survival throughout our evolution. Besides pain, is there a more uncomfortable sensation than threat and fear? Can we recognize when our anger, righteousness, arrogance, disengagement, and even hatred are all founded on unacknowledged, limbic, or even existential fear? Can we kindly, patiently, curiously, and humbly help one another explore and unpack it all?
How comfortable are any of us with any of this? How much easier is it to declare categorical truths with certainty and authority, dismissing nuance and complexity, suppressing doubt, and rejecting earnest discussion and debate?
We each get to choose how we show up to our fears, how we cope with discomfort. Sometimes all we can do is turn around and run the other way. We can deflect or armor up. They’re called ‘defense mechanisms’ for good reason, and the older I get the more I see and accept that we all have them. Each of us comes by our own honestly, and judging one another for them rarely makes anything better. Discomfort makes us squirelly at best, destructive at worst.
What if we shared our comfort with one another?
I messaged a friend last weekend: “Reconnected with (a guy friend) recently, who is now a transitioning woman and agreed to take me to my first silent book club at a lesbian speakeasy this month! [Mentioned here last week–I’m very excited about this.] “Omg dear one, our world is so chaotic and uncertain, and yet there is still SO MUCH GOOD in the day to day, face to face, in person connections of love and shared humanity. I hope you feel as surrounded by it as I do.” Clearly, I feel very comfortable with gender transition.
But I know people for whom transgenderism is extremely uncomfortable, an unfathomable and existential threat to their core values and beliefs about humanity. I sense their acute distress, their stuckness, their utter helplessness to understand or accept the concept and get to peace with it–especially when a loved one discloses and transitions. I wish I could take away their sorrow and anguish. I know it’s not because they ‘hate’ transgender people or wish for anyone to repress their authentic selves. Their discomfort is not rooted in malice. And their experience far and away exceeds ‘discomfort,’ but I use this example to remind myself that humans come to any given issue or idea with a vast variety and complexity of attitudes, histories, and comfort levels.
The better we can tolerate, embrace, and process our discomfort, the stronger and more resilient we can be in the face of adversity and true threats to our survival, I think. And I wish for no one to have to do this alone. Genuine human connection mitigates pain, suffering, and the extreme discomforts of fear, grief, and uncertainty. It is the most effective balm for what ails our hearts.
So this Pride Month and beyond, when we feel uncomfortable about something, anything, may we reach out with vulnerability and courage ahead of anger and antagonism. May our first instincts be to connect more than to judge. May we meet others’ discomfort with empathy, compassion, understanding, and patience. We can do this even in the smallest encounter, with few or even no words, with the most fleeting of looks. It takes practice. Thankfully, life presents us with the opportunity every time we meet another human.