It's Only A Paper Rose

Yoga teaching continues to go well. Yesterday was my second weekly class at Sauganash, and the first time I was so focused on someone's form that I completely blanked out on a cue - in the Sun A part of the sequence, which normally I can teach in my sleep. :P Luckily one of the students was a little more on the ball than I was, offering up "...mountain pose?" when I trailed off, and I laughed and thanked her and found the rhythm again. Appropriately enough, I had just set the intention: new growth, and remembering that new growth comes directly from old growth, so if your practice doesn't turn out how you want it to in this cycle, rather than feeling like you've wasted your effort, remember that it'll help your next cycle be better. Way to give myself an opportunity to practice what I preach, haha.

I think it went over pretty well, especially given the glorious spring weather. There was at least one repeat student from last week, and one new-to-yoga student who was enthusiastic about my teaching. Another girl was clearly not new, and clearly working hard in her practice, even though her body wasn't as limber as she clearly wanted. I gave her a lot of assists and she seemed to find them useful; afterward, she came by the desk and was all "I wanted to give you a hug..." She got a big hug, and I hope she comes back.

I remember, when I had been coming to CorePower for a few months, one of my favorite teachers telling me "I love it when you come to class, because you always try." It seemed a little odd to me - doesn't everyone try? - but I think I have a better idea what she meant now; there's a distinct difference between the students who are there just to move and stretch and the ones who are actively working to improve. (And I'm sure it can change from day to day; God knows there are times when I'm just not up for the sort of painstaking body awareness that improvement requires, and there are teachers for whom specific anatomical cueing is just not their skill.) But it makes me happy to see those students in my class, and it makes me want to be a better teacher so I can help them continue to improve. To that end, I have a sub tonight and one tomorrow as well - lots of practice to continue that new growth.

Almost exactly six months after I began teacher training, I have completed my first day of paid teaching. It's official - I'm a professional yoga teacher now!

It's been a long journey, filled with a lot of work, a lot of anxiety, a lot of learning about community, a lot of growth, and a lot of realizing exactly how much I have grown but hadn't discovered it yet. And now I'm here. Which is really only a brief stopping point - I have so much yet to learn. But it's still a point worth celebrating, I think.

I got this card to send to a dear friend, but hopefully he won't mind me using a picture of it here, as it's perfect to the moment:



Here's to learning, and growing, and doing difficult things we want to do in spite of our anxiety about them.

As anyone who reads the little notifier at the bottom of my posts is aware, I've been crossposting to LiveJournal from Dreamwidth for years now. My reasons for maintaining an LJ account were numerous; partly for the fond memories, partly for the friends and acquaintances who hadn't transitioned to DW, partly for the ease of having a mirror backup.

However, given the recent move of LJ's servers to Russia, and the associated new terms of service, I feel it's time to leave LiveJournal completely. I doubt anything I post is likely to be of interest to the owners, but I can't in good conscience support a blogging platform that forbids "political solicitation". Open and free political discussion is the lifeblood of any democratic society.

After this post, therefore, I'm turning off cross-posting and will no longer be maintaining this blog on LiveJournal. I am genuinely sorry to do so, both for the nostalgia factor and for the connections I've made here. I hope I can convince you all to move to Dreamwidth with me; there are a number of links here with instructions on how to move your whole LJ over to DW. Having done it myself, I can attest that it's a minor pain, but you only have to do it once, and it has the advantage of preserving comment threads and privacy settings. Honestly, even if you don't plan to use DW primarily, it's not a bad idea; backups of years' worth of work are always a good thing to have, and LJ's future is more than a little shaky at this point.

If you don't wish to join me on DW, I will genuinely miss you; I hope we can connect elsewhere. As with all well-structured social networks, the people I've met on LiveJournal have been the best thing about it; I'm glad there's a similarly-structured substitute out there for those of us who like doing longer-form posts than a Facebook or Twitter post allows for.

My last post might have been lighthearted in nature, but strangely (and despite freezing temperatures today), it really does feel like spring has begun. I wonder if there's any actual connection between changes in people's lives and changes in the seasons. I know it's always felt that way to me, but I'm not precisely an unbiased observer.

In any case, we're due for a high of 72 on Friday. Time to get the bikes out!


What I've just finished reading

Paper Girls, vol. 2, by Brian K. Vaughn and Cliff Chiang. I'm completely entertained at how much DNA this series shares with Stranger Things, at least for the first couple of acts; refreshingly, however, the kids terrorizing their neighborhood on bikes are all girls, and this informs their outlook more than a little. There's less character-building and more action in this volume, as the futuristic elements teased in the first come into full play here. I enjoyed it - the thought of a Godzilla-sized tardigrade terrorizing a quiet suburb entertained me to no end - but missed the interplay between the characters, as most of this volume (understandably) consists of their splitting up to do detective work and figure out what's going on. There are some good moments, though; I'm hoping that the next volume, which is going to have to start providing some explanation, finds a way to keep the character development going alongside.

What I'm currently reading

The Yiddish Policemen's Union, by Michael Chabon. I remember seeing promotional posters for this book everywhere when it came out, probably because it's set in Southeast Alaska and I had just moved to Juneau at the time. I'm enjoying Chabon's characters and the wryly vivid way he describes his characters and world: "The rest of Sitka's homicides are so-called crimes of passion, which is a shorthand way of expressing the mathematical product of alcohol and firearms." Interestingly, I'd barely noticed the dialect until reading a review that pointed it out, despite having had real trouble with it in other works (I couldn't make it past the first couple pages of A Clockwork Orange). I wonder if it's because I'm listening to it via audiobook; it would make sense, given my significantly-better reading (as opposed to audio) comprehension, that my brain would be worrying at the unfamiliar words and have trouble getting past them when written, but would be so busy interpreting and piecing together the sounds that it'd be more willing to sort of gloss over the unfamiliar words and pick them up from context.

all about love, by bell hooks. Given my general dislike of philosophy books, I seem to be reading a lot of them all of a sudden. Even when they annoy me, realizing I can journal about them and make them into a sort of dialogue helps them feel less preachy. But it also doesn't make for particularly fast reading - I think I've managed all of one chapter of this one all week.

The chapter in question is on values - and specifically, how many of our cultural values actively inhibit living by a love ethic. So it's probably not surprising that I found a lot of stuff I agreed with, haha. Still, this passage in particular caught my eye:

Speaking as someone with more than a passing interest in erotica, this kind of thing drives me nuts. Some folks really do dig anonymous sex, but in my experience they're a minority - and usually it's more the transgressive thrill of the act itself than anything particular in the sex that they enjoy. Seeing so many movies where the message is "these people are in love and that magically means they're 100% compatible in the bedroom despite their never having, y'know, sat down and talked to each other about what they like" both sets up an unrealistic cultural standard and actively suppresses a normal and healthy part of sexuality. It took me years and several partners to get past the "if I have to tell my partner what I like then clearly we're not really In Love!", and I know some people never get past it; opening up your mouth and asking for what you want is hard enough without that kind of baggage attached. (I genuinely wonder if this kind of problem has been more harmful to our collective sexual health than the oft-laughed at pornographic tropes; at least with the latter, it makes no bones about being a fantasy and not representative of real life.) Besides, talking about your desires is sexy - it demonstrates confidence and self-knowledge. Leaving that out of a romantic story means you're missing out on some seriously good stuff.

What I plan to read next

It's pretty up in the air at the moment - I've got a fair amount on my plate right now.  Still, I suspect I'll be eyeing something new soon - you can't keep a good polybibliophile down for long!

I've always loved the archetype of the leap of faith. It shows up in literal form in more stories than I can count, but as with all archetypes, it resonates because it's a metaphor for an integral part of our lives. In any undertaking, there comes a point when you've done all you can do; you've trained, you've studied, you've worked hard, and you've sent the culmination of all that energy out into the world. You've propelled yourself forward with everything you could, and now all you can do is hang suspended in the air, waiting to see if your ballistic arc is wide enough to carry you to the other side.

Which doesn't make it any more comfortable to be in the midst of that arc, with no visible means of support and no idea if the opposite side is coming any nearer.

All of which is to say, I'm having a tough time waiting to hear back on my yoga audition. My default mode is simply not to think about it and get on with other aspects of my life, and that's working to a degree. But it doesn't help with the fluttery nervous feeling I get when checking my email (even knowing it's far too early to be hearing back), or buying tickets (what if I end up teaching a class right then?), or what have you. I'm used to a strong internal locus of control; it's hard to face the fact that significant forks in my life occur due to the decisions and agendas of people I have little to no influence over (and, often, don't even know exist). But it's good practice in patience and acceptance, I suppose.

Luckily, I have a number of (more prosaic) things to be grateful for in my life right now. My wrenched back is 90% better after less than a week - which surprises and pleases me, given that my wrenched knee took something like a month to get to this point. Massage work is picking up, thanks to the new spa management, seasonal changes, and my being more available post-teacher-training. I have a massage of my own booked for this afternoon. And after years of waiting, tomorrow I go in for my tattoo. There does seem to be something poetically appropriate about having a set of wings drawn in my flesh during a time that I'm hanging suspended from a leap of faith.

When I attended the University of Alaska Fairbanks, I had the good fortune to take a Modern World History class from Professor Cole. His courses were known for being high-quality, but not easy - study groups were strongly recommended, as the reading was dense and we went over almost none of it during the lectures. The reason for this, though, was also what made him such an excellent teacher: he spent the lectures talking about (and, while flipping through a truly gargantuan stack of transparencies, offering examples of) perspective, propaganda, confirmation bias, and precisely why it's so important to seek out multiple sources when studying any historical event. The very first class, for instance, we watched Rashomon; the rest of the course would continue in a similar vein.

Just yesterday, I came across an interesting example of just the sort of narrative nuance he warned us about. So in true Professor Cole fashion, I'm going to demonstrate, albeit with screenshots rather than transparencies.

First, if you'll pardon the slightly long quotation, we have a passage from Ron Chernow's Alexander Hamilton:





Needless to say, this doesn't paint a particularly flattering portrait of Thomas Jefferson - he comes off as a naïve idealist at best, and an intentionally blinkered one at that.

And yet, while reading Tom Reiss' The Black Count: Glory, Revolution, Betrayal, and the Real Count of Monte Cristo, I came across this bit of context that Chernow left out of his analysis:



Despite the damning evidence of the founding father's own words, it's worth also considering Chernow's biases in judging Jefferson's shortsightedness. It's pretty clear from the name that Alexander Hamilton isn't focused on Jefferson, except in how he relates to the title personage; given that Chernow clearly admires Hamilton, the fact that they were constantly at odds with each other means that Chernow has a vested interest in portraying Jefferson as clueless and/or villainous. (Lin-Manuel Miranda, to take the examination further, had an even stronger reason to do so when writing Hamilton, as any good musical needs a villain to drive the dramatic action forward, and the British were more or less out of the picture by the end of Act I.) Whether or not this was historically justified is a separate matter; it's certainly arguable that after centuries of canonization, Jefferson is due for some examination of his flaws. But by leaving out the fact that he was far from the only person who foresaw a peaceful end to the French Revolution, and that general public opinion (at least prior to the brutal winter of 1788-89, and the following grain shortage that spring) agreed with him, Chernow makes Jefferson's letters sound like the pronouncements of a lone, ludicrous figure, rather than a perhaps overly idealistic man speaking from a position of privilege. It's a subtle bit of character assassination, and worth considering.

Updating a little later today, because I am officially certified in adult and pediatric CPR, AED use, and first aid! Which is to say, I spent six hours today at the local Red Cross headquarters watching videos and listening to an instructor, with occasional breaks to practice on the mannequins and my classmates. A lot of the information was stuff I'd picked up piecemeal over the years; I remember learning to do chest compressions at some point in school, and a combination of reading, life experience, and common sense had taught me treatment of stuff like heat exhaustion, nosebleeds, diabetic shock, bleeding, etc. But it was helpful to go through the motions of an actual incident, as well as get clear information on where the boundaries of responsibility (and liability) are for a first responder. Plus I got to learn how an AED works, which was surprisingly cool. I wouldn't have thought you could make defibrillation idiot-proof, but AEDs are pretty darn close; they even check for a heartbeat before administering the shock. So cool! Suffice it to say, my confidence level is bolstered enough that I'm much more likely to offer help in case of an emergency. Which is basically the whole point of such courses, so I'm going to call that a success.


What I've just finished reading

Penric's Demon, by Lois McMaster Bujold. Speaking of first responders - poor Penric; he meant well. The henpecked younger scion of an impoverished noble family, Pen is on his way to his betrothal when he encounters a Divine of the Bastard who appears to be in distress, and stops to offer help. As so often happens when one attracts the notice of a trickster deity, his entire life is turned rapidly upside down as he finds himself sharing his body with a demon - a symbiotic consciousness possessed of many lives, and one that generally identifies as female, to boot. Having named her Desdemona, he proceeds to navigate the tricky physical and political questions brought on by his new status, as well as gaining some fairly immediate lessons in spycraft and intelligence-gathering.

Although I've yet to read the rest of the series, I suspect that this is the weakest link in it; Penric's quiet nature and overbearing upbringing have made him a follower by nature, liable to obey authority without many questions. Needless to say, his passivity doesn't make him particularly compelling; the first part of his story basically consists of him doing what he's told - either by outside sources, or by the demon - without question and despite any personal reservations. Nonetheless, there are moments of interest, especially where his burgeoning relationship with Desdemona (who, unsurprisingly, has a pretty proactive personality) is concerned, and in places where he begins to question what he's been taught. I'm looking forward to seeing how things go in the next novella, once Penric's had some training and hopefully feels a little less at the mercy of the world.

What I'm reading now

The Black Count: Glory, Revolution, Betrayal, and the Real Count of Monte Cristo, by Tom Reiss. I don't usually seek out biographies, but I picked this up on a Kindle deal a while back, and after enjoying the Hamilton biography as much as I did I opened this one almost on a whim...and was immediately sucked into the tall tales told of its subject, Alex Dumas (father to the author of The Count of Monte Cristo and The Three Musketeers). The son of a marquis and a slave, possessed of a fearsome physique and an even more fearsome intelligence, Dumas was lucky enough to be born into a time and place well-suited to his outsize talents - in this case, the French Revolution - and unlucky enough to be a man of idealism and integrity in the sociopolitical environment that followed. I suspect this will be an interesting companion piece to Hamilton, although from the tone so far I expect it'll be less concerned with political and interpersonal minutiae and more with swashbuckling tales of heroism. Still, it won a Pulitzer, so it can't be all fluff.

What I plan to read next

Nothing immediately on the docket that I haven't already talked about. I still haven't picked up All About Love, in part because it's a paper book and I've mostly been reading on my Kindle or listening to my audiobooks on the go. I will get to it, though!

Brian's in Nashville this week and I've had very few commitments, so I've been cleaning house and hustling for more business and making all kinds of progress on my to-do list...in an alternate universe. In this one, I've been spending an unhealthy amount of time reading social media and streaming shows. (Riverdale may well be my new guilty pleasure.) But I've also been doing a fair amount of reading:

What I've just finished reading

An Unseen Attraction, by K.J. Charles. One of her best works so far. It's devilishly tricky to write quiet, unassuming main characters who're also compelling, and Charles manages beautifully here. Plus, surprisingly for a romance, I loved the politics. Neither of the primary characters are political in the least, but (as with people in every era) political issues suffuse their everyday life: questions of gender roles, of racial identity, even of environmental pollution (these were the days of the London Particulars, after all). After reading any number of "Regency England" romances that hand-wave away the Napoleonic wars and the pervasive fears of revolution and numerous other aspects of the social zeitgeist, it's refreshing to see a period romance that's placed firmly within the tenor of the times.

The Lawrence Browne Affair, by Cat Sebastian. This was an Amazon recommendation algorithm impulse purchase, and initially I was afraid I'd wasted the $2. Especially coming after Charles' by-now-polished depiction of character and chemistry, the first act of this story felt rough at best; the broad strokes of the characters were promising (a con man who poses as a secretary to an agoraphobic earl and finds he's attracted to his mark) but there was a lot of tell-don't-show and the pacing of the building-attraction was frustratingly scattershot. That said, I'm not sorry I stuck with it; things smoothed out somewhat as the story proceeded, and the characters became endearing, even if their romance never quite reached its scorchingly-hot potential. Given how often the reverse happens and I wonder why I even bothered finishing a book, it was a pleasant surprise.

Alexander Hamilton, by Ron Chernow. The behemoth audiobook (36 hours), surmounted at last! For all Chernow's exhaustive research, what really makes this book fascinating is his talent for finding the human drama behind what might (in the hands of a lesser historian) come across as dry sausage-making. Indeed, it's that very drama that I found both fascinating and oddly reassuring about this book. The many printed broadsides, pamphlets, registers and newspapers served as the period's social media, and thus have preserved a remarkable cross-section of the public chatter; as Chernow notes, it was not at all uncommon for private letters to be opened in transit and their contents sent to the presses. The rhetoric that surrounded the creation and early years of our country was no less violent, extreme, or ill-considered as that which has more recently surrounded the creation of the ACA, or the 2016 elections. Americans - even prominent politicians who theoretically should know better - have always denounced their enemies as illegitimate, slung mud at their opponents, threatened secession when things didn't go their way, and declared the moral and spiritual decline of the culture. After months of reading a social media feed full of similarly extreme rhetoric, it's surprisingly calming to realize that none of this is new, and that while the survival of our nation and its values is hardly guaranteed, we've certainly weathered similar storms in the past.

What I'm reading now

The Honor of the Queen, by David Weber. Perhaps surprisingly (or perhaps unsurprisingly) for a series starring a female starship captain, there's something about the gender politics of the Honor Harrington series that doesn't quite sit right with me. I have yet to quite put my finger on it; certainly Harrington herself is a fine character, intelligent and proactive and ambitious. Still, there's something about how her various problems and weaknesses - an occasionally crippling lack of self-confidence, a near pathological fear of advanced math, an inability to make her first crew respect her, a youthful encounter with a would-be rapist which she didn't report because "no one would believe she was attractive enough" - are all problems we associate with femininity, while her strengths - supreme self-possession, keen intellect, ambitiousness, physical prowess (which she used to fight the aforementioned rapist off) - are traits we consider inherently masculine. It's an insidious bit of coding, especially in a series that one would hope would be a little more enlightened. Obviously I liked enough about it to give this second installment a go, but given that our intrepid Captain and her crew are headed toward a planet notorious for its backward gender politics, my hopes are not high - I expect we're going to see a lot of comparative "Look how enlightened the main characters are" with little examination of the author's problematic assumptions. But maybe this one will surprise me too!

What I plan to read next

Penric's Demon, by Lois McMaster Bujold. This is the first of a series of three novellas set in the world of Chalion, a high fantasy world with a surprisingly complete and fascinating religious system. (I occasionally wonder if, were I an adherent, my soul would be taken up by the Mother of Summer or the Bastard. To all appearances my life favors healing and order, but I have just enough of a socially perverse streak to appreciate the chaos and destruction - and, thus, opportunities for improvement - that trickster gods bring. And frankly, I love the idea of a patron god of bastards, non-heteronormative lovers, and other social outsiders.) Bujold is one of my all-time favorite authors, and for all that the Vorkosigan series is probably my favorite, the nontraditional protagonists and subverted fantasy tropes of the Chalion series make it a close second.

I've been trying to write a life-update sort of post, but I'm recovering from a cold right now and my brain doesn't feel up to the herculean task of narrative coherence. Suffice it to say: I've finished Extensions, I'm working on getting my CPR certification and applying to teach. Auditions are likely to be around the end of March, which should be interesting, as I'm booked for my first tattoo right around that time. I miss writing letters to people and am trying to pick it back up, however, see above re: narrative coherence. Brian and Jamila have been making numerous batches of macaroons, and they come out perfectly puffed and chewy-crispy each time; I'm having to be careful not to overindulge and make my blood sugar grumpy at me.

There, life update done. Meantime, inspired by osprey_archer, I'm trying out a weekly book meme thing. I haven't been as consistent with book reviews as I'd like, lately; I'm hoping that this will help me get my thoughts out in the moment and thus reduce the time investment involved. Plus it'll mean my LJ gets updated more consistently...assuming I prioritize the time to actually do it every week, heh. Still, it's worth a shot!

What I've Just Finished Reading

--Temptations of a Wallflower, by Eva Leigh. I have an interesting relationship with the (hetero) romance genre; I like how their heroines have just as much agency as their heroes, and for reasons I've never quite grasped I'm a sucker for period romance. However, the formula is strict enough that the storytelling often feels stifled or shoehorned in, with conflicts and resolutions arising from plot necessity rather than organically from the characters. This one's in the middle of the spectrum on that point; not the most egregious example, as the characters are strongly drawn, but motivations do get a little muddy in places. I did like the hook of a heroine who secretly writes erotic fiction; the samples in the text were a trifle threadbare in their writing to convincingly be all-of-London bestseller material, but then, look at the 50 Shades series.

--Wanted, A Gentleman, by K.J. Charles. Now, when it comes to gay romance, I am all about it - especially Charles' work. Her story craft has been uneven in the past, but she's clearly coming into her own on that front - and, as always, her characters are beautifully drawn and have seriously smoking chemistry. I particularly like how her latest stories have included men of color; she's clearly researched what life was like for men of African descent in Victorian London, and convincingly portrays their even-more-fraught tangle of emotions hidden beneath strict social mores.

--Season of Wonder, edited by Pauly Guran. A collection of Christmas-themed short stories with a genre bent. As with most collections, this was hit-or-miss for me, but (as with most collections) I appreciated the chance to sample some authors I'd never heard of, whose work I might not otherwise have picked up. Particular standouts for me were Robert Charles Wilson's "Julian: A Christmas Story", which transcended its shopworn genre tropes through strong worldbuilding and its narrator's strength of character, and Connie Willis' "Newsletters", a humorous take on the alien-abduction story. And Janet Kagan's "The Nutcracker Coup" entertained me to no end; I'm always a sucker for a story about engineering social change through refusing shame.

--"The Isthmus Variation", by Kris Millering. My personal elevator pitch for this story, which I'm rather proud of, is "a virtuoso burlesque of intrigue and guile". I love the pacing, the way the narrator slowly reveals the Game, and the game within the Game, and the game within that. If the story has one weakness, it's a certain emotional remove from the characters; what could have been a gut-wrenching tragedy is instead a series of saddening events observed from a distance. Still, as a narrative tableau and a demonstration in worldbuilding, it's beautifully executed.

What I'm Reading Now

--Bara roligt i Bullerbyn, by Astrid Lindgren. This is the first non-English book I've ever seriously tried to read, and whoa, is it a humbling experience. It's a good one for me to start with, though: it's just a little above my current fluency level, so I only have to hit Google Translate a few times per page; also, being aimed at kids, it uses a lot of simple, repetitive language, and has occasional pictures. (That was part of the humbling - I was a precocious reader as a kid, and I literally can't remember ever needing the pictures to help me understand an English language book. But I need Google something like half as often when there's a picture of what's going on. Context helps!) Additionally, I read this book in an English translation as a kid, so it's entertaining to me to be working my way through one of the stories, suddenly remember something about it, and then find it in Swedish a page or two later.

--Alexander Hamilton by Ron Chernow. Having listened to the musical a slightly embarrassing number of times, I'm now listening to the audiobook of its source, and aside from my brain wanting to occasionally go off on lyric tangents (many lines from the musical are taken directly from this book), it's a pretty cracking read - Lin-Manuel Miranda did not have to exaggerate when it came to the drama in Hamilton's life. It's good to get the less-streamlined, more nuanced telling of many of the events, as well as context for some of the big historical moments, but I have to admit I'm curious how much of this I'll retain in ten years - as opposed to the musical, where the lyrics are probably permanently imprinted on my brain.

--Meditations From the Mat: Daily Reflections From The Path of Yoga, by Rolf Gates. This is one of the more popular selections among the teachers at CPY, and I can see why - it's a series of reflections on various yogic philosophies and their applicability to this person's life, and thus to life in general. I think it's the second part of that that's not quite sitting right with me; there's a lot of presumed universality that just kind of puts my hackles up. I'm a big fan of letting everyone find their own path, and for a practice that supposedly touts just that philosophy, yoga has an awful lot of evangelists. (My friend Kat to me, in response to my "yoga's done a lot of good things for me but it's not for everyone and if you don't jive to it that's okay" speech - "I think you're the only person who practices yoga who feels that way.") Still, it's pretty clearly written for the audience I'm likely to be teaching, so I suspect it'll be useful, and there's definitely some good stuff in there. Plus the gourmet-jelly-bean format (read one or two reflections at once) helps keep it from feeling overwhelmingly smug. I'll probably be working my way through this one for a while; further updates as my feelings warrant.

What I Plan to Read Next

--All About Love, by bell hooks. This is actually more of a "plan to finish" - I read half of it and promptly lost my copy, only to find it again...right after a friend loaned me her copy. >< (Where do you hide a book? In a library...or in my case, a bedroom overflowing with books stacked two-deep on far too many shelves.) There's some really excellent stuff here, on defining and reclaiming the term "love" from its watered-down and eroded cultural niche, and on recognizing the many forms of relationships referred to as "love" but based instead on codependency, social expectation, or habit. I'm looking forward to seeing where hooks takes it.

...my path through the cultural morass has mostly been to be unquestionably brilliant -- it's really hard for people to argue that you shouldn't be on the team if you're the best at it.
--thewronghands/ivy, on dealing with society's engrained sexism

Having written recently about my sense of pride, this quote resonated in my mind with the clarity of a plucked string. If I'm the best at something, no one can criticize me or tell me I don't belong somewhere; in our culture, as a member of a group traditionally excluded, that's a potent defense. Unfortunately, it feeds right into the negative side as well - It makes it difficult for me to learn new things, because I have to first admit that I'm new to this and don't already know everything about it. And if it turns out to be harder than I expected to pick it up, if my unspoken mental "time allotted to become brilliant" is exceeded, I grow very tempted to abandon the effort - the risk of being challenged on it is simply too great.

Upon reflection, I realized it's social as well as vocational: I used to be obnoxiously assertive with my opinions, arguing them to the death when challenged. I've grown better about this in recent years, cultivating the ability to ask others and listen to their responses as well as to pick and choose my battles, but I've noticed that the more men are in a particular group, and especially the less attention I feel they're paying to non-male points of view, the more likely I am to revert to my old habits.

And god forbid I am challenged and shown to be less than brilliant, says my insecurity - that might lead people to question my brilliance in other arenas, and soon I'll be shut out entirely.