Culture

Essays on art, music, and other cultural subjects

On Describing a pen

| jaylazzo

“I lost my pen,” I told a friend on arriving at the office, noting, again, that Forsyth’s Eloquence was missing from the table, in its place a foot-high stack of hardbound undergraduate theses.

“What pen?”, he asked. Everyone knows I own several: fountain pens, one that’s only two inches long, dip pens made of glass, brush pens, Rotring and Koh-I-Noor tech pens, a motley bouquet of corporate freebies, ballpoints that never write well or survive long, and one gel pen that has Ghibli Studio’s No Face on it, which I bought from My Breathing Space in CubaoX. Where smoking is illegal but OK.

“Fountain pen, black, Lamy. With an italic nib, must’ve lost it while getting off my motorcycle. Happened to my lighter once. A Zippo. Imagine that happening to a Zippo?”

“You just described about fifty thousand Lamy’s, and the black and the nib, a few thousands.”

“Well, only one of them is mine. Your point exactly?”

“My point is, it’s not a good description. You have to tell it like it could only apply to your pen. Try again.”

“All right. It’s that one specimen of its kind in my, as you know, undisciplined collection. Not as upscale as a Montblanc, not as burly as a Parker. But not cheap like those rip-offs you discover online; the knee support I got from Lazada lumbered for two weeks before snapping. This one breathes poise, its nib the foot of a 5.5-inch ballerina, in aspect intense yet low-key, which Nietzche would have cherished and snooty Goethe loathed. The kind a nonchalant scholar like myself would keep, to take notes or to sign, just as readily as to make a cartoon of your face, manito. I had just filled the retractor with ink, black, Lamy of course, using a syringe, then placed the quill in my pocket as always; then it dropped out as I dismounted my Rebel, distracted by the demands of securing my other assets from the rain that had began to pour 3 minutes before, then came in torrents as I was locking my panniers. I’m the only soul I know with that precise object d’art, apart from the one who probably found it and kept it. That Lamy was my trademark.”

“A little verbose, but tailored, as all good description should be. Did I tell you I came across this curious sketch La Bruyère made of Menalcas? Impossible that it could apply to any other man.”

“Email it? I still have two washrooms to check for misplaced items before I take a nap in my next meeting.”

“Sure. Coffee at 5?”

“Yup, caffeinated, what else.”

This is what my friend sent:

Jean de La Bruyère’s portrait of Menalcas the Absent-minded (La Bruyère, Characters, translated by Henry Van Laun, John C. Nimmo, London, 1885)

Menalcas goes down-stairs, opens the door to go out, and shuts it again; he perceives that he has his nightcap on, and on looking at himself with a little more attention, he finds that he is but half shaved, that he has fastened his sword on the wrong side, that his stockings are hanging on his heels, and that his shirt is bulging out above his breeches. If he walks about, he feels something strike him all at once in the stomach or in the face, and he cannot imagine what it is, until he opens his eyes and wakes up, when he finds himself before the shaft of a cart, or behind a long plank a workman is carrying. He has been seen to run his head against a blind man, and to get entangled between his legs, so that both fell backwards. Often he meets a prince face to face, who wishes to pass; he recollects himself with some difficulty, and scarcely has time to squeeze himself up against the wall to make room for him. He searches about, rummages, shouts, gets excited, calls his servants one after another, and complains that everything is lost or mislaid; he asks for his gloves which he holds in his hands, like the woman who asked for the mask she had on her face. He enters the rooms at Versailles, and passing under a chandelier, his wig gets hooked on to one of the brackets and is left hanging, whilst all the courtiers stare and laugh. Menalcas looks also, and laughs louder than any of them, staring in the meanwhile at all the company to see what man shows his ears and has lost his wig. If he goes into town, before he has gone far he thinks he has lost his way, gets uneasy, and asks some of the passers-by where he is, who name to him the very street he lives in; he enters his own house, runs out in haste, and fancies he is mistaken. He comes out of the Palais de Justice, and finding a carriage waiting at the bottom of the great staircase, he thinks it is his own and enters it ; the coachman just touches the horses with his whip, and supposes all the while he is driving his master home; Menalcas jumps out, crosses the courtyard, mounts the stairs, and passes through the ante-chamber and ordinary rooms into the study; but nothing is strange or new to him; he sits down, takes a rest, and feels himself at home. When the real master of the house arrives, he rises to receive him, treats him very politely, begs him to be seated, and believes he is doing the honours of his own room; he talks, muses, and talks again; the master of the house is tired and amazed, and Menalcas as much as he, though he does not say what he thinks, but supposes the other is some bore who has nothing to do, and will leave soon — at least he hopes so, and remains patient; yet it is almost night before he is undeceived, and that with some difficulty. Another time he pays a visit to a lady, and imagines that she is visiting him; he sits down in her arm-chair without any thought of giving it up; it then seems to him that the lady is somewhat long in her visit, and he expects every moment that she will rise and leave him at liberty; but as she delays, he is growing hungry, and night coming on, he invites her to have some supper with him, at which she bursts out in such loud laughter that he comes to himself. He marries in the morning, but has forgotten it at night, and does not sleep at home on his wedding-night; some time afterwards his wife dies in his arms, and he is present at her funeral; the next day one of the servants informs him that dinner is on the table, when he asks if his wife is already dressed and if they have told her it is served up. He enters a church, and takes a blind man, always stationed at the door, for a pillar, and the plate he holds in his hands for a holy-water basin, into which he dips his hands; and when he makes the sign of the cross on his forehead, he, on a sudden, hears the pillar speak and beg for alms; he walks through the aisle, and fancying he sees a praying-chair, throws himself heavily on it; the chair bends, gives way, and strives to cry out; Menalcas is surprised to find himself kneeling on the legs of a very little man, and leaning on his back, with both his arms on his shoulders, his folded hands extended, taking him by the nose and stopping his mouth; he is quite confused, withdraws, and goes and kneels elsewhere. He takes out his prayer-book as he thinks, but he pulls out a slipper instead, which he had inadvertently put into his pocket before he went out; he has hardly left the church when a footman runs after him, comes up to him, and asks him, with a laugh, if he has not got the bishop’s slipper; Menalcas produces his, and assures him that he has no other slippers about him; but, however, after searching he finds the slipper of his lordship, whom he has just been visiting, had found indisposed at his fireside, and whose slipper he had pocketed before he took his leave, instead of one of his gloves he had dropped; so that Menalcas returns home with one slipper less. One day whilst gambling he lost all the money he had about him, and, as he wished to continue, he went into his private room, unlocked a cupboard, took out his cash-box, helped himself to whatever he pleased, and then thought he put it back again in its former place; but he heard some barking going on in the cupboard he just locked, and, quite astonished at this marvellous occurrence, he opened it again, and burst out laughing on beholding his dog he had locked up instead of his cash-box. Whilst he is playing backgammon he asks for something to drink, which is brought him; it is his turn to play, and, holding the box in one hand and the glass in the other, and being very thirsty, he gulps down the dice and almost the box, whilst the water is thrown on the board, and quite wets the person he is playing with. One day being in a room with a family with whom he was very intimate, he spits on the bed, and throws his hat on the ground, thinking he is spitting on the floor and shying his hat on the bed. Once on the river he asked what o’clock it was; they hand him a watch, but it is scarcely in his hands when he forgets both the time and the watch, and throws the latter into the river as a thing which bothers him. He writes a long letter, throws some sand on his paper, and then pours the sand into the inkstand; but that is not all. He writes a second letter, and after having sealed both, he makes a mistake in addressing them; one of them is sent to a duke and peer of the realm, who, on opening it, reads: “Mr. Oliver, — Pray don’t fail to send me my provision of hay as soon as you receive this letter.” His farmer receives the other letter, opens it, has it read to him, and finds in it: “My lord, I receive with the utmost submission the orders which it has pleased your highness,” and so on. He writes another letter at night, and after sealing it, puts out the light; yet is surprised to be on a sudden in the dark, and is at a loss to conceive how it has happened. Coming own the Louvre staircase, Menalcas meets another person coming up, and exclaims that the latter is the very man he is looking for; he takes him by the hand, and they go down-stairs together, cross several courtyards, enter some apartments, and come out again; he moves about, and returns whence he started; then, looking more narrowly at the man he has thus been dragging after him for a quarter of an hour, he wonders who it is, has nothing to say to him, lets go his hand, and turns another way. He often asks a question, and is almost out of sight before it is possible to answer him; or else he will ask you, whilst he is running about, how your father is, and when you answer him that he is seriously unwell, he will shout to you that he is very glad to hear it. Another time, if you fall in his way, he is delighted to meet you, and says he has just come from your house to talk to you on a certain matter of business; then, looking at your hand, he exclaims, “That’s a fine ruby you wear; is it a balas ruby? and then he leaves you, and goes on his way; this is the important matter of business he was so anxious to talk to you about. If he is in the country, he tells some person he must feel happy he has been able to leave the court in the autumn and to have spent on his estate all the time the court was at Fontainebleau; whilst to other people he talks about something else; then, going back to the first, he says to him, “You have had some very fine weather at Fontainebleau, and you must have followed the royal hunt pretty often.” He begins a story which he forgets to finish; he laughs to himself, and that aloud, at something he is thinking of, and replies to his own thoughts; he hums a tune, whistles, throws himself into a chair, sends forth a pitiful whine, yawns, and thinks himself alone. When he is at a dinner party he gradually gathers all the bread on his own plate, and his neighbours have none; and he does the same with the knives and forks, which do not remain long in their hands. Lately some large spoons, convenient for helping everyone, have been introduced at certain tables; he lakes one of these spoons, plunges it into the dish, fills it, puts it into his mouth, and is highly astonished to see the soup he has just taken all over his clothes and linen. He forgets to drink at dinner, or, if he remembers it, thinks there is too much wine poured out for him; he flings more than half of it in the face of a gentleman seated at his right hand, drinks the rest with a great deal of composure, and cannot understand why everybody should burst out laughing for throwing on the floor the wine he did not wish to drink. He keeps his bed a day or two for a slight indisposition, and a goodly number of ladies and gentlemen visit him, and converse with him in the ruelle; in their presence he lifts up the blankets and spits in the sheets. He is taken to the Convent of the Carthusians, where they show him a gallery adorned with paintings, all executed by the hand of a master; the monk who explains the subjects persistently expatiates on the life of Saint Bruno, and points out the adventure with the canon in one of the pictures. Menalcas, whose thoughts are all the while wandering away from the gallery, and far beyond it, returns to it at last, and asks the monk whether it is the canon or Saint Bruno who is damned. Being once, as it happened, with a young widow, he talks to her of her deceased husband, and asks of what he died; this conversation renews all the sorrows of the lady, who, amidst tears and sobs, tells him all the particulars of her late husband’s illness, from the night he first was attacked by fever to his final agony; whereupon Menalcas, who apparently listens to her narrative with great attention, asks her if the deceased was her only husband. One morning he gets it into his head to hurry on everything for dinner; but he rises before the dessert is brought on, and leaves his guests by themselves. That day he is sure to be seen everywhere in town except on the spot where he has made an appointment about the very business which prevented him finishing his dinner, and made him walk, for fear it would take too long a time to get the horses and carriage ready. You may frequently hear him shout, scold, and get in a rage about one of his servants being out of the way. “Where can that man be?”, says he; “what can he be doing? what has become of him? Let him never more present himself before me; I discharge him this very minute!” The servant makes his appearance, and he asks him, in a contemptuous tone, where he comes from; the man replies he has been where he was sent to, and gives a faithful account of his errand. You would often take Menalcas for what he is not, for an idiot; for he does not listen, and speaks still less; for a madman, because he talks to himself, and indulges in certain grimaces and involuntary motions of the head; for proud and discourteous, because when you bow to him, he may pass without looking at you, or look at you and not return your bow; for a man without any feeling, for he talks of bankruptcy in a family where there is such a blot; of executions and the scaffold before a person whose father has been beheaded; of plebeians before plebeians who have become rich and pretend to be of noble birth. He even intends to bring up his illegitimate son in his house, and pretends he is a servant; and though he would have his wife and children know nothing about the matter, he cannot forbear calling him his son every hour of the day. He resolves to let his son marry the daughter of some man of business, yet he now and then boasts of his birth and ancestors, and that no Menalcas has ever made a misalliance. In short, he seems to be absent minded, and to pay no attention to the conversation going on; he thinks and speaks at the same time, but what he says is seldom about what he thinks; so that there is hardly any coherence and sequence in his talk; he often says “yes” when he should say “no,” and when he says “no,” you must suppose he would say “yes.” When he answers you so pertinently, his eyes are fixed on your countenance, but it does not follow that he sees you; he looks neither at you nor at any one, nor at anything in the world. All that you can draw from him, even when he is most sociable and most attentive, are some such words as these: “Yes, indeed; it is true; very well; really; indeed; I believe so; certainly; O Heaven!” and some other monosyllables, even not always used on the right occasions. He never is with those with whom he appears to be; he calls his footman very seriously “Sir,” and his friend “La Verdure”; says “Your Reverence” to a prince of the royal blood, and “Your Highness” to a Jesuit. When he is at mass, and the priest sneezes, he cries out aloud, “God bless you!” He is in the company of a magistrate of serious disposition, and venerable by his age and dignity, who asks him whether a certain event happened in such and such a way, and Menalcas replies, “Yes, miss.” As he came one day from the country, his footmen plotted to rob him and succeeded; they jumped down from behind his coach, presented the end of a torch to his breast, and demanded his purse, which he gave up. When he came home he told his friends what had happened, and when they asked for details he said they had better inquire of his servants, who also were present.

(Q.C., 25 July 2025)

A proud toast to a student

| jaylazzo

Good afternoon to all. Especially to the proud parents of J___, to her friends, members of the administration, and members of the community, for inviting us, her team, and most of all for the support you have given to her. Her victory is as much your pride as it is ours.

First, of all, let me tell you about how close we are. [Pointing to my team, four young men huddled at a table just in front of me to my right, who, like me, have just had a first taste of a meal topped by a well crafted Nigerian salad, and now restlessly anticipating the third big event, African dancing.]. We really are seated this close in the lab. D__ sits directly behind J__, N__ to her right, R__ to her left. At this distances, a word that flies from the mouth of one takes a fraction of a fraction of a second to land on the receptive ears of another. And so do viruses, like COVID, and this other virus that infects the floor every year. And so does news. Within minutes, word about a tiny accident we had at the lab spread throughout the school. We spilled a bottle of Congo red, a thick, nasty goo, inside the autoclave; you could say we contaminated the decontaminator. [Laughs]. I did say that one day we would be laughing about this.

Another thing about distances. J__’s dorm is quite far from our Institute. One could compose two chapters of a dissertation walking from there. Or, compose content for a Youtube channel. About two years back, we discovered that J__ had a Youtube channel. We were all amazed, most of all because we found out that J__ sang very well. She took time out to work on her research, but now she’s back, and we’re about to see new posts. Please visit her channel, @ ___.

J__’s claim to fame, as you all know, is that she named a bacteria. In our business, the chance to name a new species is a big thing. I would not have minded if she had named it anything she wanted. She could have named it Lysinibacillus amarachii, or Lysinibacillus kenjilimiensis. I’m so relieved she did not name it Lysinibacillus nimbbiensis; that would’ve been ridiculous. The story of this bacterium began when we discovered it in 2014; ten years later, J__ finished its story. No, she opened a new chapter. It wasn’t easy. Shakespeare asked “What’s in a name?” For J__, it meant five years of tears and fears — you know, during her defense I was probably more nervous than she was, and she defended her work so well.

If there’s one word to describe J__, it would be “works hard”. OK, that’s two words; might as well add a third: relentless. J__ is relentless. In this business we fail a thousand times to succeed once, and when we do, we celebrate, big time. J__’s thesis is this thick [putting up my thumb and forefinger to demonstrate an inch]. But if we had to write about everything that we did, the failed experiments and guesses abandoned, this room wouldn’t fit the volumes that would have to be written. And J__ couldn’t have done it without the support of her team [pointing the spotlight to the four young men]. We couldn’t have done it without the advice of her readers Dr. D__ and Dr. D__ who hosted J__ at her lab for some days. J__ did all this because you supported her, you her family and her friends, especially her friends from Amicos, you who have seen her spiritual battles, which we in the lab were as privileged to observe. All these difficulties, endured, conquered, with friends, team, and family, have sculpted J__’s character into the strong spirit we honor today.

And so, here we are.

The words we use in philosophy, and theology, like substance, being, substantiated being, are imbued with a clarity that makes no mistake as to what they mean. In science, words are coated in a thick layer of uncertainty, of probability, over an extremely thin but sweet blanket of possibility; it is that last one that keeps us going. J__ dug in deep, penetrating, so that now, the name Lysinibacillus zambalensis will forever be connected with her name.

To close. Louis Pasteur said, Dans les champs d’observation, le hasard ne favorise que les esprits préparés. Jean Claude here can tell you this means “Chance favors the prepared mind.” J__ is a very well prepared mind, and with excitement, we look forward to all the awesome things you, J__, will do, moving forward.

Again, a big thank you to all of you. And congratulations to our new doctor, Doctor J__!

(Silang, Cavite, 20 July 2025)

Online interactions and Self Esteem

| jaylazzo

I came across this interesting article (https://www.choosingtherapy.com/social-media-self-esteem/) as I was trying to find examples of how online interactions reflect self esteem. It seems from this article that, although social media as a cause is difficult to establish, evidence is strong that spending lots of time on it increases the risk for low self esteem.

The part of the article that grabbed my attentions was this:

Research suggests that problematic social media use can notably disrupt the development of healthy self-esteem for some individuals. The “cyber self,” or who you are in a digital context, is an idealized self-concept, allowing for a potential “new you” online.

Youth and many adults spend much time assembling, creating, and experimenting with their “cyber selves” by interacting with others online. These crafted selves rely on a steady flow of carefully curated selfies and feedback.

J. Fortunato, “Social Media and Self-esteem: 8 Possible Impacts”

The author describes a process not very unlike the experience of discovering our comfortable selves when we were teenagers. We experimented, we got feedback. Teenagers have curated their appearance for as long as there were teenagers.

And adults, too. A striking example is Queen Elizabeth I (1533-1603) of England who carefully went over every portrait every made of her, approving only what showed her as young and healthy. The white make-up she used to hide her wrinkles contained lead. Under that thick white paint her skin was crawling with lesions, her teeth were rotting, and her mind was decomposing.

Image: https://images.liverpoolmuseums.org.uk/styles/dynamic_medium/public/2022-05/Queen-Elizabeth-I.jpg

Queen Elizabeth I did things to herself that were dangerous and deadly, in order for her to be remembered in the public eye as young and beautiful. This certainly was the effect on her enemies. Modern Elizabeths on social media do not use lead paint — Photoshop suffices.

Sometimes the person you see in front of you is the person in the photos. Sometimes, it’s not. The more curated pictures that person has, the greater the shock on realizing how different the person really is. Now, is this a problem?

Maybe, maybe not. Like Queen Elizabeth, people have good reasons for projecting an image that’s different from the real thing. She was a clever Queen, and so is every company that has ever advertised itself.

So what about social media will show a person to have low self esteem? Not the pictures, but the words. It takes a skilled writer to hide low self esteem in written works. Some writers are so good that even their low self image is seen by others as an asset, something that makes the writer more human, relatable and charismatic. And then, the caveat: the words that are now permanent reflect a mood that was not. Therefore, it’s not easy to find something in social media, or in any written work, that will clearly point to low self esteem.

As if it mattered. I don’t really care about a person’s self esteem as reflected in social media, or their self esteem in general. Whether their use of social media is making them devalue themselves is something they have to work out themselves. My concern in the matter is whether their interactions with me now are unproductive because they are too toxic.

I’ll end this reflection with words from another British politician Benjamin Disraeli (1804-1881), words that highlight the significance of a consistent, dignified, and professional public image. It discourages public disputes, values discretion, and promotes transparency and honesty. In private, they are the marks of a person one can do good business with.

“Never complain, never explain.”

Attributed to Benjamin Disraeli, British Prime Minister

An article about that motto can be found here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Never_complain,_never_explain

And as to my own policy about social media? I don’t take selfies.

(Q.C., 240112)

On self-esteem

| jaylazzo

Is it possible for you to feel OK by interacting with someone you feels is NOT OK? Is it possible to increase one’s sense of worth through dealings with someone who has low self worth?

Yet another thought-provoking and relatable question from our Transactional Analysis course. This is one of the easier ones to answer.

Yes: someone you think who has low esteem can build you up. And I do not answer this merely from the point of view of feeling.

Low self esteem is not a disease. Although there are people we know who are continuously in this mode, I think it’s something that affects everyone sometimes. It is, yes, a feeling, but also the result of beliefs that can be highly dependent on context. Low self esteem is found in the highly talented as well the most mediocre, in rich and in poor. It can be found in people who are professionally highly successful, and whose stories inspire.

This phenomenon is very clear in the saints. And few are more illustrative than the life of Alphonsus ‘Alfie’ Lambe (1932-1959). Although he is not a canonized saint of the Catholic Church, having reached the first stage which is to be called “Servant of God”, he is considered by many to be the patron of people with low self esteem. A patron saint is often someone associated with a need. In his case we find frustration and poor health, perhaps few friends, but mixed with a great love for God and for men.

Image: https://philadelphiasenatus.org/wp-content/uploads/alfie-lambe001.jpg

This is how the site https://www.thecatholicprofessional.com/patron-saints-series/ describes him:

Servant of God Alfie Lambe was also a member of the Legion of Mary and was an Envoy to South America. He was very disappointed when his ill health prevented him from joining the Irish Congregation of Christian Brothers. However, he found a new calling through the Legion of Mary, serving homeless men at the Morning Star Hostel in Dublin. Despite his health challenges, he became an Envoy of the Legion of Mary and visited schools, leper colonies and prisons in Columbia, Ecuador, Chile, Bolivia, Peru, Uruguay, Brazil and Argentina. He was good with languages and learned Portuguese, Spanish, Quechua (a native language), and even Russian in hopes of traveling there. The ‘el corderito,’ or ‘little lamb’ as he was known, didn’t make it to Russia, dying at the young age of 26 in 1959 after establishing numerous branches of the Legion in multiple countries. Although he didn’t join the order, he is buried in the Christian Brothers Vault, Recoleta Cemetery, Buenos Aires, Argentina. His cause for beatification began in 1978. If you are in a situation where you don’t know what to say or how to say it, ask ‘el corderito’ for help!

Quite average in human talents but extraordinary in achievement, Alfie Lambe reflects the words of St. John the Baptist

“He must increase, and I must decrease.”

John 3: 30

Many saints were failures by our standards: St. John Cupertino, denied entry to three monasteries because of extreme neuroticism, St. Francis Xavier, failed miserably in his dream to catechize East Asia. Some saints were quite loud: like St. Jerome, the second most voluminous writer in Church history after St. Augustine. This is how https://www.wordonfire.org/articles/the-cantankerous-st-jerome/ describes him:

“Jerome was known for being a cantankerous fellow. He struggled at times with the virtue of patience, could be overbearing with those who disagreed with him, and had a reputation for being cranky. One commentator on Saint Jerome’s life noted that perhaps Jerome chose to be a hermit, not so much as a heroic act of sacrifice, but because had he not lived alone, he most assuredly would not have been a saint!“

St. Camillus de Lellis was a former gambling addict. Others were more “normal”, like St. Philip Neri, patron saint of people who like to laugh and enjoy, and St. Joseph who was Jesus’ dad and taught him carpentry.

Does divorce destroy self esteem? Some saints went through a divorce: St. Fabiola of Rome and St. Gummarus. How about physical abuse? St. Germaine Cousin, born poor and with a terrible physical deformity, was abused by her stepmother all her life.

Yet all of them are heroic in their love for the sick, the poor, and in their love for God. In fact, it seems to be that since they considered themselves as nothing, God was able to fill them with everything. They had no self-esteem of their own, other than what God had placed in their souls.

These are heroic examples. How about the less heroic? In fact, we’re rarely inspired by everything in a person’s life. Even the people we look up to may be horrible in some aspect of their life. My favorite movie character, Michael Corleone, feared Mafia godfather, was a terrible father and husband. Louis Pasteur, real life scientist, was inspiring to microbiologists since the 19th century, but was quite incompetent as an administrator.

I imagine that when you’re a bad administrator your “self-esteem” as an administrator goes down when you’re with excellent managers.

So, self-esteem can be relative. It can be low in a few areas, it can affect many areas. But it may leave out a few where one is an inspiration.

And it can also be that a person never finds his genius. Yet even that is not without worth: the fact that he lived, survived, had kids, had a job no matter how terrible. If he did it, why can’t I?

Any interaction with any person is a gift. Everyone is a universe in himself or herself waiting to be discovered. Perhaps your Grab driver is an awesome father or a math genius. You’ll never know until you make contact with that universe and what it holds.

Most of us are intensely curious as kids. Then work and responsibilities get us so wrapped up in our own concerns that most talk stays at the level of small talk. We may encounter people who find it creepy when others try to get to know them. The pandemic might have made some people more careful, or simply less used to face-to-face interaction.

And some continue to wear their masks. There is little evidence that surgical masks protect one from contracting it; the only reason I see for people to continue wearing them is when they themselves are sick. It’s much the same with self-esteem. If we don’t take the initiative to reveal what we have inside, it makes it a lot harder for others to appreciate our gifts. And so, whether it affects a few or large areas of our life, low self esteem is something we choose.

(Q.C., 240111)

2024 Suggested Resolutions: Go all in!

| jaylazzo

Whatever it is you truly want, do yourself a favor and GO FOR IT. Go all in. If it doesn’t work out at least you can’t say you didn’t try.

Dreams tease us with possibilities, whispering to us in the quiet moments of our lives. We know this is it. Yet, how often do we find ourselves hesitating on the edge, unsure whether to take the plunge into uncertainty? It’s time to cast aside doubt and hesitation. Go for it, and go all in!

Dreams demand that we wake up. We’d rather not, frankly. But, having decided that the dream’s worth the danger, it’s not enough to dip your toes into the pool of ambition; you must cannonball into the deep end.

But, understand this: no one’s interested in your shit.

Steven Pressfield, author of Do the Work, said this was one of the most important pieces of advice he could give.

So, no one’s interested in your dream, then the only one you need to satisfy is yourself. This doesn’t mean seeking advice in superfluous — we have to be creative as well as wise. It does mean that the naysayers cannot be expected to do otherwise and so we leave them to their own devices.

Going all in doesn’t mean recklessness; it means commitment, dedication, and a steadfast belief in your vision.

One of the greatest tragedies in life is the regret that stems from unfulfilled dreams. How many times have we heard stories of individuals who, in their later years, lament not pursuing their passions? They speak of the ‘what-ifs‘ and ‘could-have-beens.’ It’s really better to regret the things we’ve done than the things we didn’t do.

When you go all in, you declare to the universe, and more importantly, to yourself, that your dreams are worth the investment of your time, energy, and passion. It’s about embracing all its twists and turns, knowing that every success or setback is a stepping stone toward your ultimate goal.

The path may be daunting. No: it WILL be daunting, the worthier the goal the more dangerous the path. The enemy is self-doubt, or whatever else Resistance throws at us. Resistance, that malevolent force inside us that awakens every time we go for anything that doesn’t grant immediate gratification. Going all in means facing these challenges head-on, armed with the unwavering belief that you are capable of overcoming anything.

That said, there is only one level of ambition and only three motives for undertaking your journey that guarantees you’ll overcome Resistance. The level of ambition required is TOTAL COMMITMENT. Not passion, and certainly not interest. The three reasons are: to do it for fun, to do it for beauty, or to do it because you have no choice. Any other motive, such as to be rich, or to do God’s bidding, will require a battle to the death with Resistance, and which will require subjugating your ego, impatience, and even hope. Hope, by which I mean wishful thinking.

Look at the stories of those who have achieved remarkable success. Behind every triumph lies a tale of someone who went all in. They didn’t tiptoe around their ambitions. Whether it’s launching a business, pursuing a creative endeavor, or venturing into the unknown, those who dare greatly are the ones who reap the greatest rewards. Sometimes, this is only possible when you give yourself or are given no choice.

In the year 1519, the Spanish conquistador Hernán Cortés (1485-1547) made history. When he arrived in what is now Mexico, his 600 soldiers did not want to fight.  They were tired of the voyage, the natives were not friendly, and it was a strange land. Cortés, who wanted to conquer this new land, would have none of it. To motivate his men, he burned his ships to the waterline.  They were now all faced with a stark choice: fight or die! Two years later, he completely conquered the Aztec empire. 

Go all in. Embrace the discomfort of uncertainty. Break free from the shackles of fear and self-doubt and ego.

And if nothing else, burn your boats.

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(Q.C., 240108)

2024 Suggested Resolutions: Make your number 1 trait your “figureoutability”.

| jaylazzo

Everyone who started something had no clue how to do it at the beginning. But they “figured it out” by making mistakes. This built up their confidence, and the level of confidence was the level of achievement.

“Start before you’re ready.”

Steven Pressfield, in “Do the Work”
Image: https://t4.ftcdn.net/jpg/06/01/75/35/360_F_601753533_0xphfO9Q1ffasZPcYcqu892WJathffiM.jpg

Don’t wait to get it all figured out before you act. Author Steven Pressfield wrote: “That’s the payoff we get when we start before we’re ready. The novelist discovers a new character who pops up out of nowhere and enriches the story beyond all expectation; the painter finds the canvas tugging her in a direction she had never considered; the actor stumbles onto happy accidents, oddball readings, moments of authenticity that he could never have anticipated if he’d sat down and planned it out.”

Confidence boils to down to having an internal locus of control, which brings motivation “at will”. The best way to do have this control is simply to solve problems in your life and then appreciating the fact that it was your actions that solved this problem. Starting before you’re ready does open you to challenges of this type.

For example, for more than a year I believed that my bench of 80 kg was my plateau; I also believed I had reached a plateau in other lifts. Then I researched information on lifting biomechanics and tried some changes, including some angles that were efficient but uncomfortable. Within a short time I reached 100 kg quite easily. I reflected on the fact that it was my research and experimentation that brought me to this point.

Another example comes from writing class. I tell my students, “Just keep typing for your first draft. Don’t think about grammar or about making sense. If it’s a real problem for you, white out the fonts so you don’t see what you’re typing. Great writing is great editing; I don’t expect your first drafts to be good, but you got your ideas out, and that’s what matters.”

Of course, some preparation is necessary.

“Or suppose a king is about to go to war against another king. Won’t he first sit down and consider whether he is able with ten thousand men to oppose the one coming against him with twenty thousand?”

Luke 14: 31

Your ability to start before you’re ready AND succeed depends on having built up a store of knowledge, skills, resources, and contacts. A king as described above would have spent years practicing on small challenges and investing in arms and infrastructure. We build up our abilities and resources over time. Each time we start before we’re ready, then we succeed, then we do it all over again upping the level at every stage.

Extend this thinking to everything in your life. Discover that it was because of the efforts YOU made that you are now in a better place physically, intellectually, spiritually. As you accumulate successes, you will be convinced that you will be able to handle anything that comes your way even if you will have no idea how to do so at the start.

At some point, you will not even need to psyche yourself up. Bravery becomes just a habit, the normal thing to do.

(Q.C., 240107)

2024 Suggested Resolutions: Do not focus intently on other people

| jaylazzo

Focusing on other people is a silent form of self-sabotage.

I heard this story recently.

Image: https://i.ytimg.com/vi/Cdv2sbn1OLY/maxresdefault.jpg

An old man once called in his son as he lay dying on his bed. He said to the son, “My grandfather gave this watch to my dad; I would like to give it to you. But before I do, I want you to take it to the antique shop and ask them how much they’re willing to give you for it.”

The son took the watch to the antique shop. The proprietor said, “I can offer you $150; it’s too old.”

Man, it’s antique shop.

Anyway, the son got back to his father, who then directed him to present it to a pawnshop. The son did, and the proprietor told him, “I can only offer you $10; the watch doesn’t work and it’s too rusty.”

The father then directed the son to a museum. There, the curator told the son, “We are willing to offer you $500,000 for the watch, if you agree. It’s an extremely rare watch and will add great value to our collection.”

The son returned and reported this to his father, who told him: “Son, I wanted you to do all for you to understand that different people will value you differently. Be with people who value you and avoid those who don’t.”

Thus, we can err by focusing on the wrong people — those who value us little. We might focus on what they say about us or what they think about us. If their opinion of us is low, find others who value you. I’m not referring to constructive criticism, which in my experience is usually more tough if your critique values you highly, such as your mentor.

In general, it is a bad idea to be attached to anyone anyway. People are fickle, and so are their opinions. Instead, focus on becoming a better person. Focus on learning, improving, and gaining a strong character.

Then you’ll have a more accurate idea of your true value.

(Q.C., 240106)

Time Like a River

| jaylazzo

I remember this song by American singer-songwriter Michael Johnson (1944-2017), I’ll Always Love You. The bridge goes:

Time like a river keeps on
Rollin’ right on by
Nothing left for me to do
So I watch the river rise?

Michael Johnson, “I’ll Always Love You” (1979)

I imagine myself standing about waist-deep in this river of time, facing downstream. The past flows away in front of me, the future arrives from behind me. I think it’s better to think of the future as coming from behind rather than arriving from the front, which would mean you could see what’s coming. In my analogy I can only guess what the river will bring, but I don’t see it.

Image: https://media.gettyimages.com/id/997666968/photo/young-man-wading-in-water-at-lake.jpg?s=612×612&w=gi&k=20&c=8klCm3rxjpzP3dRCaNcVn-syICWrtoP9Xrk4atRJOJw=

So, what arrives? Everything. Every event, success or failure, everything anyone tells you, whether to your face or behind you. Every mistake, embarrassing act, bad investment. The consequences of decisions. One by one they roll right on by…

Then make their way to the sea, to disappear forever.

That is, they don’t matter in the end. Only one thing matters.

The one who stands in the river. He or she possess one thing: character. All the events that rolled on by matter in whether and how it changes character. I would like that these events build my character, but some events will damage it. I get to decide in the present and only in the present what will it be.

Only character remains. Every success, failure, accomplishment, every kind or abusive word anyone has ever said against me, every awesome thing I did and every shameful thing I did or was done to me, every award I receive — disappear forever.

What about decisions I make in the present? Do they affect what arrives? Yes, but we have have to put some perspective to this. We saw that the decisions we make matter in how they change our character. All the other effects don’t, but decisions today can affect what will arrive tomorrow.

Future events do result from present decisions. But there are different ways of looking at this. Obviously, if I cut into a stone to make a statue, all the future possibilities of the stone are constrained by that cut and then further limited by subsequent cuts. Still, the lasting value of a statue is how sculpting it and then contemplating it made you a better person; the statue itself will crumble to dust.

Here’s another way it happens. A man chose to become a doctor 20 years ago and thinks this is the cause of his becoming rich today. It is ONE cause, and as a profession and vocation, the decision constrained subsequent cuts. But that decision to take medicine is not the only cause specifically for his wealth. Most of our explanations for how things came to be are fantasy. In any case, what matters to the doctor is whether is profession made him a better man. All other accomplishments will disappear.

What about death? When a man dies, he is as it were taken out of the river, out of time into eternity. From which he has a view of the entire river. But he doesn’t possess the river, only his character. If his character is good, then he will be gladdened by the sight. If he lived a bad life and destroyed his character, he still sees the river, but won’t stand the sight of it.

This view of things is very practical. I have a major presentation coming up next week. I will either kill it, or be killed. These things used to make me anxious. Still do. But I know that whatever happens will sooner or later be lost at sea. This presentation and the reviews I get will matter only in whether they will make me a better person. Besides, that presentation is only one of many other events that will arrive. I have to approach each one as a chance to make me a better person.

Bad reviews, by the way, are like mud and debris. One has to capture it, enjoy it all, because there’s gold there. You’ll probably need to process a lot of mud to get enough gold to make you rich. The point is: don’t delay facing danger.

Michael Johnson (1944-2017). Image: https://performingsongwriter.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/08/MJ_1.jpg

Johnson is best known for the song Bluer Than Blue (1973).

(Q.C., 240106)

2024 Suggested Resolutions: Make it the year you get louder.

| jaylazzo

Mediocre people who work loudly outperform great people who work quietly. Is it fair? No. Is it reality? Yes.

This advice goes against another wise saying by an anonymous author:

Don’t tell others your plans. Show them your results.

Anonymous

I agree that speaking about plans drains energy — as if the satisfaction of accomplishing in the future is replaced by the joy of imagining one met one’s goals today. But being loud does not mean telling others your plans. I recall having once introduced a particularly energetic student as “Ladies and gentlemen, I have the honor to present, often wrong but never in doubt, Ms. ___!” Big applause! She took it as a complement.

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So, what to be loud about? Ideals! Here’s a famous quote said by the David Gale, Kevin Spacey’s character in The Life of David Gale (2002). Terrible movie, beautiful quote:

“Fantasies have to be unrealistic because the moment, the second that you get what you seek, you don’t, you can’t want it anymore. In order to continue to exist, desire must have its objects perpetually absent. It’s not the “it” that you want, it’s the fantasy of “it.” So, desire supports crazy fantasies. This is what Pascal means when he says that we are only truly happy when daydreaming about future happiness. Or why we say the hunt is sweeter than the kill. Or be careful what you wish for. Not because you’ll get it, but because you’re doomed not to want it once you do. So the lesson of Lacan is, living by your wants will never make you happy. What it means to be fully human is to strive to live by ideas and ideals and not to measure your life by what you’ve attained in terms of your desires but those small moments of integrity, compassion, rationality, even self-sacrifice. Because in the end, the only way that we can measure the significance of our own lives is by valuing the lives of others.”

Successful leaders share an exquisite ability to articulate their vision of an ideal — and unattainable –future.

So be it.

(Q.C., 240105)