I unabashedly love my birthday month. May has always brought celebrations, transitions, travel, flowers, and of course better weather. This May did not disappoint – as evidenced by how long it’s taken me to recover and get back to writing! A full month’s grace period feels appropriate, especially as we fully dive into summer. 

We spent May leaning into connection. The month kicked off with Yoga Habit’s 10th Anniversary celebration. It was a packed yoga class with yogis, teachers, old friends, and new buddies. I deeply appreciate Jen and the whole team at Yoga Habit for centering relationships. Going to class – to practice and to teach – is not just a workout. It’s a sigh of relief, where I see friends, and a space where I can just be me. I love helping to contribute to that feeling for others. 

I have been loving the weekend morning newsletters from Melissa Kirsch at the NYTimes. A May edition was “Talking to Strangers”. The author laments how easy it is to talk to absolutely no one these days, even though other humans are a source of intrigue, fun, and even love. My favorite quote came from a man who started a conversation among folks who were solo at a concert: “I’ve come to believe that people simply want fun and interesting things to happen to them,” Melissa shares that everyone is usually thinking about themselves in awkward situations with strangers, whether they themselves will be embarrassed or interested. Instead, the social contract asks us to also consider others in thinking about the world we want to create. Rather than wondering what will go wrong and how we alone will feel, can we shift to how others feel and what is possible? 

During a recent project with the Penn Resilience Program, I was struck by this quote: “Being heard is so close to being loved that for the average person, they are almost indistinguishable.” (From my brief research, the quote is attributed to David Augsburger, Mennonite pastor, author, theologian, counselor, and educator. And my next nonfiction read.)  I am encouraged by the reasonableness of this for our lives – I don’t need to love everyone, or even most people. But I can listen to them, even for a little while. Actually listening to someone in our age of tuning out is a gift we can decide to give over and over. 

Our May concluded of course with Memorial Day, marking the transition into summer. It’s a season of what I hope is more friends, more reasons to leave the house, and less work. Not to say that a summer of communing will be smooth and easy. Community is inconvenient. People are not going to act the way you want them to. They may be late, they may change plans, they won’t follow the perfect vision I have for a summer picnic in FDR park. But I value connection over convenience. And rather than ignoring or downplaying the struggles that accompany coming together, it turns out it’s actually helpful to acknowledge these barriers. Mental contrasting involves comparing and contrasting the positive and negative aspects of a possible future. In doing so, we evaluate options and make decisions that help us reach a particular goal. If we know that gathering with friends will be both frustrating and fun, we can make informed decisions and be proactive about frustrations, as inevitable as they may be.

Part of my mental contrasting is acknowledging both the positive and negative emotions that are likely to arise when I am hosting a gathering. In late May, I hosted a few friends on a weeknight. I got home later than I wanted, I had to vote and wanted to chat with the neighborhood folks at the polls. I was so stressed about getting the salad done on time and making sure the TV stand was dusted. And none of it really mattered. People arrived while I was still cooking, who cares. The house was not spotless, no one noticed. Thankfully, I had already envisioned what my negative emotional responses would be to the situation. The emotions were still there, but they impacted me, my behavior, and my experience of the evening less.