No more suffering to that truth... :)

"I have heard many stories about parents who have hurt their children so much, planting many seeds of suffering in them. But I believe that the parents did not mean to plant those seeds. They did not intend to make their children suffer. Maybe they received the same kind of seeds from their parents. There is a continuation in the transmission of seeds, and their father and mother might have gotten those seeds from their grandfather and grandmother. Most of us are victims of a kind of living that is not mindful, and the practice of mindful living, of meditation, can stop these kinds of suffering and end the transmission of such sorrow to our children and grandchildren. We can break the cycle by not allowing these kinds of seeds of suffering to be transmitted to our children, our friends, or anyone else."
(Thich Nhat Hanh, Zen Buddhist author, from 'Peace is Every Step' )

Been doing some writing

By the way, some time ago I wrote an article on Innovation in Romania, which was made public only recently.

Thanks Alex for reminding me :)

I had missed this poem - about love

If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and surrender my body to the flames, but have not love, I gain nothing.

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away. For we know in part and we prophesy in part, but when perfection comes, the imperfect disappears. When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put childish ways behind me. Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.

And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.

Talk to strangers

You’ve probably also been told not to open up or talk to strangers, because they are evil, right? Still, it happens that you sometimes check your own assumptions against those held by strangers. You have an own situation that gives you headaches, you can’t understand it – and at some point, you feel the need of sharing it with someone. Who knows, maybe sharing will help bring out mysterious resolutions we have not thought of, at times our eyes are crying out to hear what we want to filter or maybe all we are looking for is to hear ourselves speak and relieve the pain. It happens that strangers resonate to thoughts in your head, it just happens that they speak out the words you do not allow yourself to.

So do talk to strangers, they also have stories to tell.

Did I disappoint you?
Or leave a bad taste in your mouth?
You act like you never had love
And you want me to go without
Well it's too late, tonight
To drag the past out into the light
We're one, but we're not the same
We get to carry each other
Carry each other...
(U2, One)

Everything I know is wrong

One year ago I started a mock experiment – the experiment of being stupid. What I did during the experiment was trying to prove that using less of your brain capacity to think about stuff that seemed unimportant could translate into a happier life. Practice proved me wrong. It is not the thinking that kills us, not even the “unimportant” stuff we are trying to process. Using less than you actual mind capacity does not function either.

While experimenting for a way into a happier life, one that required less thinking and more perceiving, there were some happenings around me that were of definite help. Some will still take time to refine, some could immediately be translated into actions. All in all, the one thing that made me richer this year was that I learned to laugh heartily – at both life and myself. This was the one good side effect of being stupid – you cease taking yourself ever so seriously and start weighing the pleasures of life through other lenses. You start considering your life from the perspective of its impact in other’s people lives. Not necessarily the tags they attach for you inside their heads, but what you mean to them, how you can be of help to them. You start seeing the beauty of nature around, start being interested in the recipe of the cake you are eating at the business meeting, really enjoy the taste of the morning coffee and stop taking it for granted. You start developing others instead of just yourself and start laughing when you see others handling situations with the self-importance you once attributed to yourself. You start seeing the context rather than the individual pieces of the puzzle and you stop obsessing about what you cannot change.

In spite of all these benefits, my basis for considering the experiment a failure is that all this does not necessarily relate to thinking. Quitting thinking was not what led me to those insights, as a negative action does not translate into a positive one. It was probably love that did the trick. Unconditional, constant, foolish and vulnerable love, one that came in unnanounced, unawaited for, while the barriers of too much thinking and analysing were lowered.

The topic is complex and still needs expanding, and over the next posts I will try to write more about it. It’s just such a relief to know that I can finally continue the thinking where I left off, armed with a more powerful weapon than ever before.

And the hardest part
Was letting go not taking part
You really broke my heart
And I tried to sing
But I couldn't think of anything
And that was the hardest part

I could feel it go down
You left the sweetest taste in my mouth
You're a silver lining the clouds
(Coldplay, The Hardest Part)

The Theory about The One

You know about the One, I bet on it. He was your best-in-class colleague, envied by all. The little girl with a mysterious smile living next door you wish you’d said Hello to at least once. The Alice who has moved out, your first love, the guy you are into right now, the boy you never could tell you liked, that beauty you kissed on the lips once, in a club, and never met afterwards. That childhood friend who died, your one-night office romance, that brunette in whom you found your match, your chess teacher, a remote relative.

The One is that singular person you feel from the very beginning will play a special role for you. The role of a mentor, of a life’s possibility, of a new path. In time, he or she gradually elates into a product of your projection onto them. They are the kindest, the smartest, the best and most unique you’ve ever met or will again. Their gestures seem, at times, to point the way. You memorize them like an anthem you sing in your own temple for them. Sometimes it does materialize into something real. At times, it doesn’t. For the weak, this means months of pointless wandering, comparing, maybe daydreaming, it is an endless search for what they prevent from ever matching by setting the barrier of perfection. The strong ones just sever it all. Bring all thoughts to an end – quit the “One” just like they would cigarettes, by replacing it with something else. Boast on moving on. Neither ever forget.

You see, I know you. I’ve heard about your story from the others, or maybe you have told me all about your One who makes you smile, whom you once lost, whom you’ve just met, married or are still dreaming of. Just… allow yourself the benefit of reasonable doubt before melting into your imagination. It might save you from yourself.

We say these words again and again
But they still sound the same
It was in your eyes, in your eyes
They were just easy lies

The lightest words are heavy
And promises are easy
And no one's ever happy or sad for very long
But just because I said it
It doesn't mean I meant it
I guess that was the way all along
(Keane, Again&Again)

Autumn day

Herbsttag
Rainer Maria Rilke

Herr: es ist Zeit. Der Sommer war sehr groß.
Leg deinen Schatten auf die Sonnenuhren,
und auf den Fluren laß die Winde los.
Befiel den letzten Früchten voll zu sein;
gib ihnen noch zwei südlichere Tage,
dränge sie zur Vollendung hin und jage
die letzte Süße in den schweren Wein.

Wer jetzt kein Haus hat, baut sich keines mehr.
Wer jetzt allein ist, wird Es lange bleiben,
wird wachen, lesen, lange Briefe schreiben
und wird in den Alleen hin und her
unruhig wandern, wenn die Blätter treiben.

Best to keep quiet, when the leaves are falling in the alleys. In order to hear something else than your own thoughts.

What I call elegance

"Do you want some coffee?" he asked politely, while pouring some in a cup. "Yes, please" I said, and added, "would you like some milk". (I was closer to the milk.) "Thank you, I like my coffee black", he answered, and handed me the cup he had just filled, elegantly, filling up another cup.

Feels like home :-)

The Prodigal Daughter

7 years into my departure from my hometown and another 4-and-something into my consulting continuum, I have returned home. Though I have been in Sibiu at some point or another over the years for holidays, now it will be different. Working from home and going to the office in my town already feels strange. It is a matter of professionalism to deliver the same value to the client, as if it were in any other city in the world. However, working from the desk I used as a high school student and maybe seeing my old friends in the evening has a perfume of a long-awaited rendez-vous.

Given that I will be mainly involved in work, please follow the Twitter updates on the right-hand side – it might be that they will give you more insight, since I will not be able to write on a constant basis.

Cheers!

Take some distance

People can be very cruel to one another, due to their own sensibility. Cruel to be kind, one might say. In response to an unpleasant situation, or words that may seem hurting, they withdraw deep into their shells, just to think about it, without realising that this "thinking" and the following silence might do more harm than good.

The silences I know are of different kinds - the kind that rebuilds you, and lets you appear more shining than ever in front of everyone, prepared to face life's vicisitudes and more, even dare life to give you more, without being afraid; the kind that lets you see through friends and foes, and recognize the good that comes with the bad, and maybe put an end to the latter; the silence that is empty, the one that bears creation, the emotional silence, the one that watches movies, the one that stares at the walls, the silence of being hurt, and the one that precedes words of wisdom. There is one particular form of silence though, that also exists in the bravest of us, although reason may concede otherwise - it is the silence of cowardice. When you are afraid of what might come out of your thinking, of what you have done - or didn't do, and of the reactions (of silence) that you might trigger. And the longer you avoid it, the more painful are the words roll from your lips. Because at some point, the risk is to encounter - not anger, not despair, but sheer indifference.

Just tell me what you've got to say to me
I've been waiting for so long to hear the truth
It comes as no surprise at all you see
So cut the crap and tell me that we're through
(White Town, I Could Never Be Your Woman)

Video about a guy and his dog

Nee, my heart doesn't feel so bad at all, it's just that I liked the video so much. I wonder how much negotiation it will take with my mother to get myself a dog :)

The devil is in the details

Someone told me tonight that all our trials are given to us by the devil. That the guy has nothing else better to do than to mix in the lives of people and make them unhappy. And that God has currently higher work to do than to help us handle it, but that He trusts us. I said I believe in a mass of good energy floating around and occasionally changing focus and influence. She looked at me in disbelief, but I appreciated her expressing neither contempt nor admiration. She took it just as if I had said a few words about the weather, so I felt confident to further expand, and say that since all this energy is good, and it resides in all of us, then we must all be good.

In the silence that followed, the only thought I could hang on to was that maybe now all the good energy is with me, and if I send some in your direction, then you will understand me behind all words and come back.

Moby - Slipping away

Evolution

“When I was a boy of fourteen, my father was so ignorant I could hardly stand to have the old man around. But when I got to be twenty-one, I was astonished by how much he'd learned in seven years.”

(Mark Twain)

I must say I'm also very pleasantly surprised with my parents lately. They must have learned a lot! :)

Close, no matter how far

“Living might mean taking chances but they're worth taking, Loving might be a mistake but it's worth making.” (Leanne Womack)

People worry about other people and help one another while they are close. I mean, it's normal, the others are our friends and after all it's in our own little egoistic interest that the ones around us are happy. It also makes us happy and contributes to the overall well-being of the Universe. Only to name a few of the benefits.

But... what do you do with people who need you, but are away? In what way can you help them? There are relationships which stay remarkably close, in spite of the distance. People telling you about things that happened in their lives and made them sad, and you really picking up on what they are saying and feeling for them. Making plans to go see them and be close to them and sustain them with good humor and optimism in their endeavor to get past unpleasant situations. I can remember a conversation with my mum, a long time ago. She was sick and I was several hundred kilometers away and I told her how sorry I was could do nothing for her. Whereas she said "Yes you can. Just talk to me, keep my spirits up, and then you'll come home and everything will be alright". Which I did, eventually, still feeling odd about not being able to get a pair of magical gloves and help her from the distance.

Anyway, some recent events have led me to believe that being close to somebody is less a question of distance than a question of will. You can be away from somebody and still care for her and do little things that you know would make her happy (such as sending a CD with your favourite music - or hers, for that matter). Or you can be far and say to yourself anything you might do would be in vain anyway, because physical distance also separates the souls. From my own experience, this is the most hurtful thing you can do to somebody reaching out for you. It is little things that act as magical gloves and keep friends close at a distance, without leaving them alone facing life's asperities: a lunch together from time to time, a few moments on the telephone, meeting in some place in the middle of the distance, a postcard saying nothing more than "Hey, I thought of you enough to send you these few lines"... Things that keep people warm at heart. Things that may seem pathetic for some, but which do make a difference.

If I stand all alone, will the shadow hide the color of my heart;
blue for the tears, black for the night's fears.
The star in the sky don't mean nothin' to you, they're a mirror.
I don't want to talk about it, how you broke my heart.
(Rod Stewart, I Don't Wanna Talk About It)

Let us go then, you and I...

This is one of my favourite poems ever... at some point I knew almost all of it by heart.

Thought I'd share :)

Let us go then, you and I,

When the evening is spread out against the sky

Like a patient etherized upon a table;

Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,

The muttering retreats

Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels

And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:

Streets that follow like a tedious argument

Of insidious intent

To lead you to an overwhelming question ...

Oh, do not ask, "What is it?"

Let us go and make our visit.

In the room the women come and go

Talking of Michelangelo.

(T S Eliot, Lovesong of J Alfred Prufrock)

Do the things you don't want to

I hate doing things I don't want to do. You know, the ones that make you find all kinds of excuses for not doing. Relating to either school or work or friendships or whatever. First you start by setting them up in the calendar, on your to-do list or even on a sheet of paper which you pin over the kitchen table or the entrance door and mark red, so you can permanently see it and get reminded of what you should be doing. Then you start postponing. It was not so important for today, so we can do it tomorrow. Or the day after tomorrow. Oh, look! I got another task, and this one is far more important (like watching an episode of my favourite series). Or damn! there is a fly in the room. And so I spend another half an hour hunting it down. Then you blog about it. Or chat with friends. Or do some groundbreaking research about the Zerg market. And that really important thing you ought to be doing, but don't, gets shoved under the rug.

One sweet day you find how much had depended on doing that small thing, and you are either sorry and that's it, or you are doing something to tie the ends together. The resulting feeling is, in most cases, that of relief that it is finally done. Apart from this, there is no benefit. So if you can hear me - and I know most of you can - don't procrastinate. Procrastination really is the best way to miss out on important moments in your life, and it's a pity. There is so much beauty left to discover.

I think I'm drowning
Asphyxiated
I wanna break this spell
That you've created
(Muse, Time is Running Out)

Between the pain and the pleasure

I feel like I’m leaving
Like I’m leaving home
Like the clouds are parting, and I’m not alone
(Beth Hart, Learning to Live)

Snapshots of my Dalloway-ism

Tonight I put some order in my stuff and found an old notebook from my university years. There are two fragments below from Woolf's 'Mrs Dalloway', which I remember having read many times over, because I found it so enthralling.

"What is this terror? What is this ecstasy? he thought to himself. What is it that fills me with extraordinary excitement? It is Clarissa, he said. For there she was."

"He had not said 'I love you'; but he held her hand, Happiness is this, is this, he thought."

I feel like I have lived them out myself :)

Eureka!

Ladies and gents, and all other kind people randomly reading this blog – the truth is out in the open now and resistance is futile: Men cannot read your mind. Period. They can’t! Among their several other great qualities, this one does not stand out. Hell, it’s not even on the list! Be it your dad, your boyfriend, brother, colleague, friend etc – they can’t read thoughts, much less act on the thoughts they should have read and interpreted and thus get brilliant ideas of how to get you (or themselves) out of trouble.

Bob had actually tried to tell me this at some point, and I laughed myself dead at the tone she used, but she was so right. Of course, this epochal breakthrough will not make anybody’s life any big lot easier – or harder, for that matter, the knowledge of it might however help in understanding some happenings. Until recently, I was very pissed with my dad, as he was visiting me at the time my illness had begun – and although he could have, he didn’t drive me to the doctor when I had my appointment. When we talked about this later, he said he’d always been so convinced I can handle most things on my own, that he thought he’d also let me handle this one. As it turned out later, the little cold was more than it seemed, and that is when he apologised and asked me to tell him next time when I need help -- literally. (As in: "Dad, I need you to drive me to the doctor's at 4 PM today".)

Coming back to the topic of the post: if you feel like somebody in your life doesn’t get the message (happens mostly to men, but it can also hit women) – then he or she really didn’t. You need to find a way to communicate it directly to them, instead of sitting home by yourself, making scenarios and killing off precious little gray cells.

Have you found wisdom yet?

There is often more wisdom to be found at the edges of life than in its middle. A life-threatening illness, for instance, may shuffle our values like a deck of cards. Sometimes a card that has been on the bottom of the deck for most of our lives turns out to be the top card, the thing that really matters. Having watched people sort their cards and play their hands in the presence of death for many years, I would say that most often the top card is love.

From an email sent a long time ago to some friends. Source unknown.

I strongly suspect Bob of getting close to some of that wisdom :)

Don't fake the real you

Don’t fake it. They’ll notice. That is, unless they are too busy doing some faking of their own. Don’t get entangled in trying to seem what you are not. Don’t fake your concern over something that barely touches your interest area. Don’t fake liking music you don’t like, your face will give you out faster than you are able to humm the first two lines. Don’t fake friendships just to keep up appearances. They’ll hate you for it. Don’t fake your not feeling miserable following a breakup. Express your feelings and shout into fountains what you don’t want the world to hear. Don’t fake your liking of a food, it’ll make you sick soon enough. Don't fake being a careful parent while you are hitting your child in the street. Don't say your employees are your most highly regarded asset while treating them miserably. Don’t pretend you want to do something you don’t – and don’t give me that pretense of a line called “I didn’t know anybody was going to be hurt”. You did know, but wanted to test it. Don’t fake it – if not for their sake, at least out of respect for yourself. Be genuine. You’ll save everybody precious time.

Nacer en tu risa
Crecer en tu llanto
Vivir en tu espalda
Morir en tus brazos
(Cesaria Evora, Tiempo y silencio)

Emaciated

I’ve been lucky to have learnt to swim at an early age, and swimming has since become a second nature to me. What I especially liked, back in Sibiu, was diving. In Sibiu you can actually swim in an Olympic sized swimming pool with 8 lanes, and there is also a deeper pool with a diving tower with 3m, 5m, 7m and 10m levels. For us little dolphins, the diving pool was only open on certain days, as it was considered dangerous to jump (because of various accidents etc). One day, when it was “ok” to go diving, we lined up and started. First we used the springboard, 1 m above the water. The instructor then led us to the platforms. Some of us did dive from 3m... but the more we climbed up the stairs, the more courage left us, as we seemed to be so high above the menacing blue water. At some point, the inevitable happened and one of us dived the wrong way. She hit herself quite hard on a side (in diving, especially when doing it from higher above, it is essential to enter the water perfectly vertical, or else the impact can harm you). I was next in line... and I suddenly felt like turning around presto and giving up diving. There was a moment when I looked at the water and my body refused to return there, for fear it would get hurt, just like my friend's had been.

Over the past few weeks I was sick, and the return to normality seems more difficult than I have expected, as there are some aspects in my general ability to fight off disease that are not particularly encouraging. I dread jumping into the water again, just like years ago, because of concerns regarding my health.

What I did back then, after looking at the water below, was to close my eyes and jump anyway, from 10m. The water, on entering, felt warm and embracing, and all that excited expectation of pain disappeared. It was not as if the doubt had disappeared, but the weight of it seemed to have been left behind. And as I resurfaced, I felt like lingering there, for it felt like my second nature indeed. No harm would come.

Before I Forget

There were so many times when I went through something funny - or something dreadful. Like the time I got stuck in the subway. Or the time I tried all the locks in a building in Prague to find my apartment. At the end of the day, all I could think of is how you would have laughed or commented on that. Each time I was looking forward to tell you, as I was so sure you would laugh, and your laughter only would have given meaning to the happening.

It's becoming difficult to keep all those moments in my mind. Perhaps I'd better write them down, before I forget :)

Girls who beat up the boys

Ok, I am not sure about you guys, but I am so fed up with the image of the overpowering, men-beating, "don't look at me because I'm beautiful, look at me 'cause I'm smart" woman! I mean, come on - most of us have got the message. Equality, brotherhood and cooperation are on, but the proof of that is not in women behaving like men and overtrumping the latter in the spirit of retaliation and of proving the equality of sexes. Most movies and series I have been watching lately seem to be filled with single moms, girls who beat guys up and power-hungry ladies. I wish they were more subtle. I wish they did not lose their feminine side.

Later edit: Others are also concerned with the topic. Good.

Fill my heart with gladness
Take away all my sadness
Ease my troubles thats what you do
(Rod Stewart, Have I Told You Lately)

About fears

Have you ever noticed how fearful we all are? As kids we are scared and thus hit first, so as not to be hit ourselves. Small boys don’t really know what to do when they see others cry, so they ignore it or laugh at tears as a sign of weakness. Later on, as teenagers we are scared about what others will think about our looks. We fear that having no boyfriend / girlfriend will decrease our social likeability. Then, when we do get one, we are afraid he/she will leave us. If this doesn’t happen, we are afraid we are being cheated on. After we start an argument and end up alone, we fear nobody will love us anymore. When someone finally turns up, we fear we are not liked for who we really are, but for some obscure reasons that have nothing to do with our real selves (such as our parents, our money, our cars or because we look good on TV). We fear getting married because we will be confined to a double loneliness, we fear a divorce because it will leave us alone. Our children’s illnesses scare us because of the death they entail, we fear our parents’ aging because it will leave us facing the care they gave us as children, we fear our sickness because it gives us that sense of helplessness, of not being in control. We plunge into jobs to feel safe again, and then we continue to fear that our performance is mediocre, that our boss does not like us, that we get less money than others, that our outfit is not “office” enough and of course, that changing the job will only bring on the same fears.

And so we continue on our spiral of anxiety. Only in some brief moments do we discover the beauty of life and the hundreds of good things that happen to us every day, that give it meaning and make it worth living, with no unnecessary time spent on worrying. Life just has a way to bring a smile on our faces again, but more often than never we choose to ignore it, because fearing and worrying has been ingrained so deep in our minds.

I wrote this as a “thank you” note for only a few friends who let me know today, in own little ways, that they cared. It was enough to make me smile.

Morning song

Since the original by Heart, this must be the most touching and passionate interpretation of the song "Alone" I have heard in a long time. In the beginning Celine Dion does not seem very into the song, but just listen to her right after the verse "I never really cared until I met you" - she is so amazing! As it happens to most singers when they understand a song, she sings like she would be telling a real story, one that gives you chills to the bones (happened to listen to it this morning right after I woke up with fever, headache, dizziness... alone).

Coulda woulda shoulda

That afternoon, one of the many we spent drinking coffee before you left, was one of the first of spring. It still felt chilly, yet the sun was shining over the terrace, and there were only a few people besides you and me. They were drinking cold milkshakes, and you laughed when I told you they would get a sore throat. We sat down, and you did not want to face the sun, for fear you would get burnt. I ordered a cup of cappuccino and you got the usual long espresso with milk. The tender smell was enough to let me drift to other places and the taste was like a classical symphony melting inside my mouth and spreading its colors inside my body. So I smiled at you, kissed a stray ray of sun on my lips, closed your image behind my eyelid and shut my eyes, lying there like a lizard in the sun. You were telling me some follies to make me laugh, as usual, while the taste of coffee still lingered, and the warmth wrapped me with bliss.

After that all was silent.

I ask for a moment's indulgence to sit by thy side. The works that I have in hand I will finish afterwards.
Away from the sight of thy face my heart knows no rest nor respite, and my work becomes an endless toil in a shoreless sea of toil.
Today the summer has come at my window with its sighs and murmurs; and the bees are plying their minstrelsy at the court of the flowering grove.
Now it is time to sit quiet, face to face with thee, and to sing dedication of life in this silent and overflowing leisure.
(Rabindranath Tagore, A Moment's Indulgence)

First post on BizWatch

There was a promise I made some time ago -- and today was the day to keep it. Enjoy BizWatch, an online business review started by some friends and in which I will also contribute, starting with today. Romanian only, with some of the links in English.

It'll work itself out fine

It just sometimes happens that we fail. Miserably. We let ourselves, as well as others, down. We do not fulfil our expectations for ourselves, nor do we fulfil others’ expectations for us. (A small digression needs to be made here: most young people today will jump up roaring “I don’t care about others, it’s myself I need to please and nobody else!”. Later on they still get the idea – that we live in a world that is interconnected. It is so, whether we like it or not, and every little thing we do has an echo in someone else's life. In my experience, the better idea is not to ignore this dependency.) Most of us know when we are back to square one, and in our minds initially accept it – not gladly but hey, at least we know where we stand, deep inside.
What differs is the way we choose to treat failure. We weather the storm in different ways - some of us fight, others defend themselves and search for justifications, a decent number ignore it altogether... I have seen but few people who really tried to understand the essence of their failure: what it was that led them to the dead point, where the mistakes were made, how they could find a way out. Out of these people, only the rarest chose to make the failure a part of them, not rejecting it, and moving on with the experience on board. Indeed, you need emotional strength to do this, acceptance and a certain kind of humility. It’s not easy and it is not always uplifting. What I admire most about these people is not that they rise from the ashes, we humans have done this since the beginning of life... it is the way they do it that is amazing. Besides getting themselves out of the hole, they help others out, as well. They internalise their failure, mishaps, drag-downs and re-shape them – and when you meet them, they don’t complain or overly describe their failure – but say and do things in such a way that you feel encouraged and at times - a better person.

Was a time when I wasn't sure
But you set my mind at ease
There is no doubt you're in my heart now
Said woman take it slow
It'll work itself out fine
All we need is just a little patience
Said sugar make it slow
And we'll come together fine
All we need is just a little patience
(Guns'N'Roses, Patience)

Fantasie Impromptu

This morning I left home willing to let the bit of tan I got this summer glow… and outside it was cold, all of a sudden.

After coming out of the subway, it was all gone, like an impression. It was warm again. A bit of cold remained with me, still.

Summer moved on thus, leaving nothing but some warmth and lots of distance. Just like last year.

Prague: Black Light Theatre

There is a lot to be told about my Prague escape this summer, but I would like to start with the part that did not get photographed: the Black Light Theatre performance. I went to "Aspects of Alice" and liked it very much. Apart from the classical music concerts taking place at every noon and in the evenings in the Golden City, the Black Light Theatre is a particularly special form of art you will definitely enjoy. It involves a world of dreams mingled with a real world, cartoons and people moving onstage with the same easiness you would picture in a movie. Only it is real, and happening in front of your own eyes.



Cameras are forbidden, still I found this little movie on the Internet. Enjoy - and go there if you are in Prague!

Only for one

I'm thinking about going to the Leonard Cohen concert in Bucharest with some friends. Should be in three weeks' time or so. We haven't yet decided, as some part of us still craves for doing things in a student manner. Unplanned, that is :)

The funny thing is I'm even thinking to go to this concert, as I'm not really a fan of Mr Cohen. During my university years, we used to sometimes listen to him in the evenings, and his deep voice used to trouble me and failed to lead me to sleep. Even now, there is only a limited number of songs of his which I enjoy to hear - and this poem, which seems a bit cynical to me. Maybe just a matter of interpretation on my side :))

Fear is for the weak

I must not fear.
Fear is the mind-killer.
Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.
I will face my fear.
I will permit it to pass over me and through me.
And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path.
Where the fear has gone there will be nothing.
Only I will remain.
(Frank Herbert, Dune)

Wenn man auf keinen anderen verwiesen ist als sich selber scheint anfangs alles schwerer als es wirklich ist. Nachdem man sich jahrelang selber auf die Beine halten musste, alleine allen trotzend, wird es eh viel schwieriger, das Leben mit anderen zu teilen. Allein nur ist aber keine richtige Lösung.

Caring is sharing is doing

Diving in deep into life, photography and all the things we love and enjoy falls easy – and always depends on how much we care about stuff. When I meet someone for dinner or coffee, it’s because I usually care enough about the respective person as to spend some pleasant moments in their company. If I don’t care, it’s quite obvious I won’t be driving for 150km just to see them, or join them for some fancy cooking night.

There is no negative message I want to convey – as always, our choices lead the path and get us where we are. Sometimes we are eager to challenge the others’ choices, and to criticize them. More often than never, it is because we do not understand them. Does the famous line “Is this how much you care about me?” ring a bell? Well, then you know the answer. It’s always “yes”.

Me va, me va, me va, me va, me va
Hacer amigos, andar caminos, me va, me va
Soar contigo y haber nacido para cantar,
Me va el amor de verdad.
(Julio Iglesias, Me Va, Me Va)

On returning from the holidays...

Writing again comes a bit uneasy, as there is so much that could be the subject of explorational musings. Some of it might be of no interest to anybody else but myself. But as I have learned until now, you can never do stuff just for yourself. Sometimes you write so that the voices inside be finally fixed somewhere, some other times just to make a point, or just to see how the words you are thinking form into a poem right in front of you :)


Anyway, I’ve thought about it and I’ve decided to keep the blog. Seems that I’m not writing for the walls and the toys and the joys, there really are some people out there reading it (thanks guys!). Since I’m not exactly an e-mail communication techie, writing here will just be an easier way to let you all know how things are going.

Welcome back to the freakshow @Sundance!

Help me when I fall to
Walk unafraid
I'll be clumsy instead
Hold my love or leave me high.
Walk unafraid
I'll be clumsy instead
Hold my love or leave me high.
(R.E.M., Walk Unafraid)

Deciding what to do with the blog

I just need a way to figure out how to make it useful to others - as is was useful to me. In sharing my thoughts and states of mind with you, I got richer on the inside. And as I think that nothing comes for granted and that one's legacy consists of the things we leave in others - I will try to put in more useful information than gather my thoughts. That we could do together over coffee :-) so feel free to say hello whenever you are in town.

Anyway, as I feel it, a period of my life has ended - it was a nice period and I thoroughly enjoyed every part of it (well maybe the unpleasant aspects less but you know how it is :D...)

I don't know what this is
but you got me good
just like you knew you would

I don't know what you do
but you do it well
I'm under your spell
(Duffy, Mercy)

We have reached a meaning

I’ve written before about things you cannot say – nor otherwise express. We cannot say what we mean unless we do it and sometimes it is better to keep some things untouched by words unless we mean them.

Slowly, the Sundance Kiddo Blog has reached its initial purpose – to bail me out of a world I had gotten into by accident. It has done so over the past two years – helped me to clarify my thoughts and make sense of a world I had thought of bigger than my grasp. Some of the happenings I’ve written about here are so dissolved into words, that sometimes I cannot remember what shelf to put them on, or what they were really referring to in the real world.

It was a good journey.

And it's draining all of me
Oh they find it hard to believe
I'll be wearing these scars
For everyone to see
(Leona Lewis, Bleeding Love)

Flying to Maramures

This evening I am flying towards the north of the country. Hopefully the weather will be fine.

Take me and break me and close all your windows and doors.

Shut me off, cut me off, make me an island, I'm yours.

Take me away from the world, take me away from the girls.

Take me and break me and make me an island, I'm yours

(Joe Dolan, Make me an island)

Just discovered Twistori

Twistori is close to being brilliant.

To serve all, but love only one

“The motto of chivalry is also the motto of wisdom; to serve all, but love only one.”
Honore de Balzac

This quote inspired my day yesterday. In trying to understand it, I first thought this was a love quote, one pertaining to the knights only loving the lady of their hearts, but behaving in a knightly manner with all others (kinda the “Lady in distress – let’s help” style). But how could this be the motto of wisdom as well? Whom does wisdom love, whom does wisdom serve, other than the intellectual needs of the narcissistic self? And above all, should we go for the mystical interpretation, does wisdom really love God – as might be implied?

Maybe this is what is meant through “love only one”. That wisdom has the kindness to share, to give away – be it knowledge, or compassion, or understanding, or help when it is needed. But, like us all, it needs strength to hold on to. This can be faith, or love, or a person… a guiding light towards which we strive. It also means to be loyal to a purpose – or to that one person or concept we behold as the centre of our ambitions.

But how many of us really live this way?

And this is where I find
Rays of dust that wrap around your citizen
Kind enough to disavow
And this is where I stand
(RHCP, Stadium Arcadium)

Teach me how to live

Over the past weekend the first awakening, with mountains and dear people around. One can not make the same choice twice, for the simple reason that contexts take time to change. Repeating a choice is a limitation imposed to oneself because of lack of inspiration or maybe due to risk-aversion. As for myself, I still believe that in making a choice you assume a responsibility. And it is not the choices most people ditch - it is the responsibilities. In avoiding them, one takes a series of short-lived directions, never knowing where the road may lead, and abandons the path as soon as the responsibilities seem to elude the possibilities. "And so we move on, boats against the current..."

Counting the incompleteness of the self

In the past days, a statistical wave went over me, and I started to count the people I know. That is, indexing the people on my business mobile phone, my personal one, LinkedIn, FaceBook, Xing, YMessenger etc. The conclusion is that I have personally met and randomly stayed in contact with around 850 people. Out of these, it is less than 20 that I have talked to face to face in the past month, less than 10 who are close to me on a personal level and less than 5 that I would wake up in the middle of the night for.

That is some scary statistics. But then again, incompleteness of the self demands for completion through others :)

PS: Last evening on the streets of Bucharest there were some ladies cleaning the streets, probably gipsies. Brooming and stuff. One of them had stopped working and was writing an SMS.

We got it together didn't we
We definitely got our thing together don't we baby
Isn't that nice
I mean really, when you really sit and think about it
Isn't it really, really nice
I could easily feel myself slipping more and more away to
That simple world of my own
Nobody but you and me
We got it together baby
(Barry White, My First, My Last, My Everything)

Complexity of women rediscovered

Conversation with our program manager yesterday:

PM: You must understand this is a complex client: the deadlines are changing, the scope of the project is changing, the deliverables are changing...
The Sundancer: That's why they say women are complex...

Reconsideration of telephoning and Twittering

This morning I dreamt of my former project manager telephoning. I rang her up in the afternoon to tell her and she was glad. Maybe I’ll reconsider my hostile attitude towards telephoning, as it seems to make people happy to hear each other’s voices from time to time.

In trying to make communication more fluid and step up to the times, I have included my twittering on the right column. Enjoy!

Back from holidays

On returning from a wonderful and relaxing vacation, I forgot my network password. The IT guys will be delighted :))

Plus, it seems we're under Saturn in May, so the changes are starting to get more serious.

Unintended

It must not always be sensuous and lustering. You must not show much skin, nor grin broadly, nor try to impress me with your knowledge. Nor smell like vanilla, or even chocolate, nor dance so much that throwing your hat onto the table should make the bottles of beer tremble. Not cherish the closure to make me feel trapped, nor too much of a distance to make me wonder if you are there. It is in your honesty and in your eyes when they are glowing with your heart. It never ceases to touch me in ways never understood by others, in secrets we forget and then reinvent. It opens you up to me, and takes my fear away from being hurt. Never rush – maybe it will be afraid and it will run away from you, not remembering that it needs you to exist. It resides in you barely touching my hand, and talking to me, and listening to me, not easy to forget, hard to let go. Just breathing your name makes me happy. For it is you.

Come here. The simple things

Via Ancuta, the song that suits today:

There's a wind that blows in from the north,
And it says that loving takes its course.
Come here. Come here.
No I'm not impossible to touch,
I have never wanted you so much.
Come here. Come here.
Have I never laid down by your side?
Baby, let's forget about this pride.
Come here. Come here.
Well, I'm in no hurry.
You don't have to run away this time.
I know that you're timid,but it's gonna be all right this time.
(Kath Bloom, Come Here)

While listening to the song the first time, I thought the end line said "I know that you're leaving, but it's gonna be alright this time".

I don't even want to get over you

First of all, let me tell you that I don't believe in absolutes. I believe that everything is relative to a certain time and place, especially human relationships. I also believe each encounter we have is meant to teach us something in life, help us move on or make us reflect on what we really want to do.

Tonight, on returning from a visit to my dear aunt, I listened to a melody which I used to listen to in times of depression: A-ha, I'll Never Get Over You.



While listening to it again, especially after the clarity the mountains gave me, it got another meaning. You stay around people as long as they are interesting for you, as long as there is a difference they bring to your life that other people fail to do. At some point they become “common”, or you can't spend as much time together, or for whatever reasons you part and you start looking for meaning elsewhere. Here is where the “can't get over” part jumps in. There are people you can't get over. No matter how hard you try, they stick so hard in your mind and soul, and you remember them and see them in places you went to together and in touches of the seasons, in walks and symbols. So deep is your impression of them, that you start having imaginary conversations with them while walking, and even there is mud under your feet, you can still rise your head up and say “this is a great day”. Great, because you've had the chance to meet them, to spend time with them, to love them.

I could go on endlessly about these special people. They may be family, or friends, or maybe teachers or even people you've briefly met on voyages. Their faces and your shared experiences build a special world you truly can never get over.

And so – I refuse to believe that this song is about an obsessive love story, unrequited love or other sickness of the heart. It is a song of the endless loves of the moment that fill us and make us who we are.

You say you want some fun
You're not the only one
Not the only one
And you say you wanna run
You're not the only one
Not the only one
(A-ha, You'll never get over me)

On mountains' lessons in thinking

There is a certain indulgence in writing a blog. You take the risk of being read by people who will not understand what you are writing about and will take their own round of interpretations, suited to an individual degree of knowing and interest in you. It's easier when you accept that all that you are writing falls into an abyss of words – sometimes not spoken and at times only uttered during daytime. Some may call it hypocrisy of the thought, while it is more a certain lack of direction. You write for yourself, sometimes launching messages incorrectly understood by the ones who read you. But that doesn't matter, because for you the act of writing unleashes the sort of internal energy which lets you whisper “yes, and now they will understand”. Well they don't.

Last week I returned from Austria with the clear vision and lasting happiness only snowy mountains and cold mountain lakes could give me. Certain things cleared up like the clouds from the hills in the morning, and sadness vanished as though it never was there. My friends and I have often had debates regarding the futility of persisting in dreaming the dreams and not living them out. So I was very glad to feel how cold thinking can really push dreams further into reality. Just like putting on the right pair of glasses, future now unwinds clearly and though unforeseen, the path is not frightful anymore but rewarding.

Wrapped in your arms where it's peaceful
Back in your arms where I'm happy
I would do anything gladly
Only to see you again
(Gloria Estefan, Wrapped)

Tired and bored of waiting for things that'll never happen

I asked my mother once "Where do you go when there is nowhere left to go" and she told me "You die". The truth is never that simple though - you never die at the right moment, nor does the earth swallow you at the point where you would zapp it into doing just that.

It won't come as a surprise if I tell you the earth never cooperated on my hardest times, so I had to be inventive and get out of quite some messes. Blushing usually helped in the first few seconds but then you should really be able to say someting more. The point is what - and in the last months I have reached the conclusion that saying nothing at all can bring you more than anything. In spite of being more painful, of course.

Cateva ganduri din transee

Cred ca indrazneala e o functie de capacitate de a visa. Cu cat visezi mai mult, cu atat mai putin timp ai pentru a iti realiza visele. Si daca doar visezi, fara sa incerci sa faci ca visele tale sa se intample in realitate, esti ca o barca in voia vantului.

Am incetat sa cred ca exista un rost in a crede ca lasitatea poate sa fie justificata.

Killer tale with three subways

How much of a total nerd must you be to miss the right subway, take the next, have it get you to the wrong station and needing to further switch subways, get to the railway station exactly on time to miss the person you actually shouldn't be expecting and then seeing them again in the subway, on the way home? And most especially, how can you explain the entire mess without making it seem like a fable?

The things I don't plan come out as if I had planned them a long time and the things I do plan go completely amok. There must be something I'm doing right.

Show a little faith there's magic in the night
You ain't a beauty but hey you're alright
Oh and that's alright with me
(Bruce Springsteen, Thunder Road)

Despre cum e sa te arunci in apa rece

Uneori fac lucruri traznite. Gandesc fara pic de instinct de conservare. Fac lucruri despre care imi e clar de la bun inceput ca nu duc nicaieri, ca sunt doar faze care incep si se termina fara limite. Merg inainte si ma arunc in apa, desi stiu ca ar putea sa fie putin adanca (aflu mai apoi ca e foarte rece). Sau ies afara in haine subtiri, stiind ca e frig, doar de dragul de a purta bluza “aceea” sau de a simti vantul prin par. Sau dansez prin ploaia calduta de vara dupa ce am calcat intr-o balta – la ce bun sa mai tin umbrela deasupra capului?

Poate ca nu e cea mai buna cale, poate ca asa risti ca toate consecintele negative sa ti se sparga in cap. Ma gandesc uneori ca multe din lucrurile care mi s-au intamplat in viata faceau parte dintr-un risc pe care mi-l asumasem. Stiam ca s-ar putea intampla ceva, si dincolo de nepasare sau inconstienta exista o curiozitate a senzatiei de care nu am reusit sa scap niciodata. Pana la urma, nu ne traim vietile doar anticipand finaluri. Cateodata, inveti sa dansezi dansand, si incepi sa inveti culorile pictand.

Asa ca… de ce sa imi pese ca voi pierde, daca in acelasi timp am sansa de a castiga totul? De ce sa imi para rau ca am zburat cu aripi de ceara, daca am vazut soarele atat de aproape? De ce sa nu incerc, in loc sa imi imaginez cum ar fi fost?

Dupa ultimele rapoarte venite de la cer, se pare ca avem totusi doar o viata :-)

You gotta have a dream
If you don’t have a dream
How you gonna have a dream come true?
(Ella Fitzgerald, Happy Talk)

Taping, measuring, evaluating

And by the way I loved the following post from Ancuta: http://nareda.blogspot.com/2008/03/you-can-always-sell-any-dream-to-me.html

Could it be that things are really that simple? That you measure out the other's life, only to see if it fits into yours. That you employ measurments of words, of coffee spoons and of looks to quantify to what extent we care. That you always take into consideration all accounts, and calculate and ellaborate - and finally reach an economically sized business decision on whether or not people fit in.

I think somebody's playing tricks on us :)

What do I fear most?

More often than never, we fear stuff will happen that will affect us. We spend loads of time thinking about all possible ways to avoid the negative consequences we derive from what will happen – at times I imagine I see the movie of evil unwinding before my eyes so vividly as if it were the reality. I think I know where it ends, and even if some of the consequences were self-assumed, accepted as being inevitable and thought of, time and time again, there is hope I conceal, hope that they can and will be avoided... As it is with an illness that repeats itself cyclically, I fear departure as if it were a personal ending – and not a temporary one, that permits recommencing on solid basis again and again. For endings are definitive after certain times. No matter how much we want to trick ourselves into believing something else, there are events and periods in our lives which end, and never can be revived again the way they were. So there you go – I fear the end.

Turn the lights on the night is too long
Keep yourself warm I'm coming home
I cannot help you, you yourself must see
Decide now on what you want to be
(A-ha, Turn the Lights Down)

I am what I try to deny

There was an exercise I once did with some friends: we each danced our life's story on a randomly chosen melody. A solemn show for some, a comedy for the other. No dancing marvels performed, just some moulding in a foreign rhyhtm. The movements were flowing naturally, with some very brisk turnarounds at some points and at times difficult to understand. In each life there were things we could only imagine - some of us danced of lost loves, others of things we had experienced together. But not one of them danced of work. None of despair or of death. It was all the wonderful things in life that they imagined when moving to the sounds, the good they could do and the hope they held. And most of them were smiling while dancing.

This weekend I re-edited the exercise, while dancing to Gotan Project's La Viguela.

aquí me tumbo a cantar
al compás de la vigüela
que al hombre que lo desvela
una pena extraordinaria
como el ave solitaria
con el cantar se consuela

Clarke, Minghella die

Two days ago, two grand masters passed into another odyssey: Arthur C Clarke and Anthony Minghella.

The first one had me amazed at all the wondrous worlds he dreamt of, the second kept me weeping while watching The English Patient.

May they be joined by fellow souls.

Faith for reasons still unknown
Like bleak house fog seems everywhere
The truth has frozen into stone
And hope lies freezing in the midnight air
Though dark our days may seem
This is a different dream
Their freedom light dont shine at all
(Chris Rea, Candles)

New soul, making every possible mistake

Song lyrics | New Soul lyrics

Sway

When you are used to being gorgeous and loved, the sudden apparition of an even more gorgeous being around you gives you wings. For you know that there is still room to go to reach perfection.

Only you have the magic technique
When we sway I go weak
(Dean Martin, Sway)

5 motive pentru care imi place sa merg la mall

Dupa ce am citit postul Ancutei despre mall, am avut o mica revelatie: mie imi place la mall! Oricare din ele... Vedeti mai jos si cateva motive pentru care weekendul sau serile la mall nu sunt asa de rele cum par.

1. E cel mai bun loc unde afli care sunt ultimele tendinte in moda. Vezi atatea exemple de prost gust, incat prin eliminare afli si cam ce se poarta.
2. Iti vin idei de afaceri si de promovare. Util mai ales daca lucrezi in marketing, evaluezi cam pe unde sa ma pui un banner nou, un gand rau concurentei ca sa obtii un nou spatiu petru magazinul tau etc.
3. Ai ce sa povestesti luni la serviciu. “Auzi draga, l-am vazut pe Vio ieri la mall. Ghici cu cine era?” Pe bune acum, de unde poti sa scoti mai multe evidente despre diverse relatii daca nu din faptul ca cei doi se duc la mall impreuna?.
4. De punctul dinainte se leaga si faptul ca Mall-ul este noul parc, odata ce te plimbi cu cineva pe acolo, e clar ca ceva se intampla. Dupa ce fac cei doi impreuna poti sa afli si in ce faza a relatiei sunt, respectiv ce statut social au. De exemplu: beau o cafea (abia s-au cunoscut), vad un film (e faza ulterioara, se face conversatie si poate se “verifica” noua achizitie), mananca la Mac (studenti probabil), se plimba prin magazine impreuna (planuri de viitor deja, el evalueaza cam cat o sa il coste) etc.
5. E mai greu sa imi conving prietenii sa “facem ceva” in weekend. Cand spui “mergem la mall”, sensul vietii se imbogateste instantaneu – la mall poti face o gramada de lucruri si de fapt nimic. Cum draga, sa mergem la terasa? Da ce facem la terasa? Hai la mall!

Viata de carton pe roti

Uitasem sa va povestesc: ieri m-am blocat in metrou. A treia oara in ultimele cateva luni. Asta dupa ce plecasem special mai devreme de acasa, ca sa fac impresie. Am ajuns in statie, unde niste sarmani stateau prinsi dupa usile metroului, alti sarmani se uitau cu jind la cei prinsi, de parca ar fi sa se afle in locul lor. Dupa vreo cinci minute de asteptare, anuntul fatidic: Va rugam sa va dati jos din vagoane, trenul este defect. Na super, imi spun, sa vezi acum invazie pe peron. Si da-i si ies oamenii din vagoane. Am mai scris despre cum arata vagoanele de metrou din Bucuresti, de zici ca mergi la Auschwitz. Ei bine, nu v-ar veni sa credeti ce puhoi de popor s-a putut revarsa pe peronul care deja era plin. Imbulzeala, coate, calcare pe picioare... tot setul.

Cum sunt o persoana optimista din fire, imi spun: Acum pleaca trenul asta de pe peron, vine urmatorul, asa ca totul va fi bine si ajung si eu la birou la timp ca sa imi salvez onoarea. Da de unde. Am mai stat douazeci de minute sa poata misca trenul si inca vreo cateva ca sa vina urmatorul tren – evident plin cu oameni stresati de faptul ca fusesera tinuti in subteran mai bine de jumatate de ora. Fericiti, dadeau telefoane.

Ce am hotarat in urma incidentului:
1 – Tre sa am grija sa nu mi se mai strice iPodul cand se blocheaza metroul. E plictisitor.
2 – In viitorul previzibil o sa incep sa merg cu bicicleta la birou.
3 – E mai bine sa plec tarziu de acasa, daca si asa intarziu.

I Know My Love

There are so many people in the world who hunger for a bit of love, that our brief afternoons and evenings together seem like an undeserved blessing. So many rich glances, few words that create worlds of understanding, those little touches filled with warmth and the intense feeling that somewhere, out there, there is a great something where we can be like in our dreams. This much love cannot be wasted, and the more you get, the more there is of it.

Perfume of the day: L'Eau par Kenzo.

One of the stories yet to be told

To follow up on a previous post: sometimes it feels good just to drift away. Questions such as “Where do you see yourself in 5 years’ time” are as annoying as the indications linked to one’s age. “Aha, you’re 25 already, you should think about getting married.” Right, but to whom?

Sometimes I just let myself go to the moment, and what happens is that no world crumbles if you are not there to give it a sense of direction. So as of now, I declare myself on holiday.

Girls like tea
Girls like me
Some girls like everything that they see
(Lisa Stansfield, Treat me like a woman)

One change at a time

A friend's status, some days ago: It's a mark of a very very young soul to try and fix the world.

My answer: small comment: you can change the world so that it fixes itself someday
one little change at a time ;-)
Ana-Maria: :) nice one

A fact is, after so much talk about changing the world I'd rather focus on the small things in my own live. A couple of days ago we have had a strategy creation session for a client, with a very good exercise on comparing various strategic initiatives to the point of obtaining an action plan. Great stuff for the company, food for thought for myself - for there are so many things I want to do, people I want to see, places to visit etc. But how do I determine their relative importance to my life? How can I say that one thing that I do now is more important than another, when they are all so deeply interrelated?

Perhaps I should think about what all my present actions will determine in future. Perhaps I should follow a red path that will eventually lead me to the same light I imagine at the end. Perhaps I should do the way I feel, it has always helped me. Or maybe I should get a mentor and get him make sense of my life. Or maybe, just maybe, the answer lies ahead in the road I pursue, with all the people I meet with on the road, my eyes raised to a higher purpose. And whichever that higher purpose may be, it is good and it is filled with love.

PS: I'm listening to Portuguese Jazz for the day ;-) for absence must be replaced by music.

Despre salutul cu spatele

Cateodata ma dezamagesc oamenii. Ma astept sa reactioneze cu maturitate la cate o veste, fara sa se gandeasca doar in termeni de castig sau de pierdere personala. Sa se gandeasca pe termen lung - sa inteleaga mecanismele care au stat la baza unor decizii. Poate ca o fac, insa in felul lor propriu, care bineinteles ca ramane criptic pentru mine.

Sa pierzi frumos inseamna sa reusesti sa treci de tine si sa vezi plusurile pe termen lung ale oricarei situatii - fie ea defavorabila in prezent, si chiar daca la nivel personal implicatiile sunt dureroase. Oricine poate sa intoarca spatele si sa lanseze afirmatii pe care ulterior sa le imbrace in alte si alte haine, doar pentru a le deforma sensul peiorativ initial. E nevoie de tarie si de vointa pentru a nu te lasa dus de val.

PS: De cateva zile ma simt ca pe vremuri, cand realitatea parea sa fie un vis permanent :-)

Baby it's you
You know that it's you I'm thinking of
(Smokie, Baby It's You)

Thoughts on a sunny Saturday

Maybe love is a delta between wanting and being able to get – and the least able we are to touch the object of our alleged desire, the more we strive to get it. The more we can't have, the more we long for, only rarely noticing that maybe – just assume that for a second – we wish for the lives of others, and not our own.

Dance girl dance to your tunes

I wonder what would happen if a serious corporate suit guy would walk down the corridor and see me wrapped in an orange shawl and dancing to a tune in my head. Would he just stare and tell himself that I’m nuts or would he dance along?

This is worth trying, just to see the reaction.

Ive tried so not to give in
Ive said to myself this affair never will go so well
But why should I try to resist,
when baby will I know than well
That Ive got you under my skin
(Frank Sinatra, Under My Skin)

Bloggers are friendly creatures

Now this is really amazing, just read it in the TechCrunch feed: http://www.techcrunch.com/2008/03/03/blogging-is-good-for-your-social-life-study/. The essence is that to blog is to feel more included, possibly with more friends and a lot more to comment about.

I don't disagree, however my personal experience doesn't include a significant improvement of my social experience since I am blogging. And still, I enjoy a beer with friends more than knowing they read me :))

He said: what? She said: You.

Just had a brief look at my calendar: starting with the end of March I will be out of the country for almost three weeks, which is the longest time I’ve spent away from my dear ones in a long time. Hm, guess I will need to prepare for that.

Meanwhile, I am getting more and more hold of the opportunities presence in social networks can bring. Be it LinkedIn (more business-oriented), Xing (business network, mainly German and bordering regions), Facebook (I’m new to this one, still need to check it out) or Twitter (have been enjoying some posts there in a while), they all have the same purpose: getting people to connect and interact more than ever. Just being there does not attract attention – moving about does. Lately, both LinkedIn and Facebook have added Twitter-like status editing possibilities. If you are not an uber-busy business person, you may now want to tell your network what concerns you, what you are reading, what you are thinking about. Really useful, especially if these things will get to be indexed in some manner and create trails for people who are interested in you to follow. On the other hand, this immense knowledge repository will at some point become dangerous, with lots of personal info that can be used as marketing databases or for identity fraud.

Sooner or later I have the feeling this can be big, especially with more and more people using the networks. I am still amazed some of my friends do not enter the online game that has us all entangled.

This is the way you left me,
I'm not pretending.
No hope, no love, no glory,
No Happy Ending.
This is the way that we love,
Like it's forever.
Then live the rest of our life,
But not together.
(Mika, Happy Ending)

Deci, ce vroiam sa zic...

Mediul corporatist romanesc este toropit de standardizare. Vorbind cu un prieten mai demult, ii spuneam ca poate mergem cu totii la traininguri ca sa invatam vocabularul de lemn care sa ne permita sa ne intelegem unii cu altii. La nivel de limbaj, avem cateva formulari fara de care banuiesc ca am invata cu totii limbajul semnelor. Sau am folosi o alta formula consacrata: “N-am cuvinte”. Sau am zice “Mai gad! Intelegi ce vreau sa zic”. Sincer… nu :)

Fata ce sa mai atata tot... Ai ma. Hai, vorbim. Sunteti scumpi. Mersi draga esti o dulce. Pupici. Sarutari de maini doamnei. Ma leshi. Inteleg inteleg. Da, sunt cu tine. Te urmaresc. Am o mica nelamurire. Am nevoie de o explicatie pentru asta. Maine ie dedlain. Sa fim pe aceeasi pagina. Da-mi un fidbec. Mama ce tare. Superbeton. Marfa frate, iti spun. Tre sa mergi la hasher. Deci, da. Desteapta treaba. Ce dracu, suntem buni. Sa se chinuie si ei un pic. Misto, frate, stii ca iti ziceam eu. La valoarea ta… Vorbim. Care e relevanta? Kilu meu. Stiu ca poti mai mult de atata. Bine ca esti tu destept. Te poooop.

Later edit: S-a cancelat intalnirea?

PS: Gasiti cateva exemple faine si la Florin, aici.

Cause I don't care if I ever talk to you again.
This is not about emotion,
I don't need a reason not to care what you say,
Or what happened in the end.
This is my interpretation,
And it don't, don't make sense.
(Mika, My Interpretation)

A long time ago I got an ace of hearts

In the past few days I've been watching the series "Californication". The star of the show is David Duchovny, a female-addicted-dunno-where-to head-my life-to uninspired writer who struggles between his own fantasies and a boheme LA existence. At some point, he disappoints his 12-year daughter (again), so she tells him “You know, you can expect a lot from people. And if they consistently let you down, then the best you can tell them is Fuck you.”

This also goes for all the rest of the people who disappoint us. Consistently and knowingly.

You said that love was just a state of mind
A puzzle made of pieces you can't find
And for me you never really had the time
I was blind.
(A1, Caught in the Middle)

Keep walking and have a drink

Last night I stayed in the office longer than usual. There was some research to do and I played some Pink Martini – I usually listen to music only in my headphones, but this time there were only a few colleagues left in the office and they did not seem bothered. One of them even told me the music was great and really worth listening to, as compared to their usual trance or house distractions. Somehow I felt this was a good step on connecting. Music really does bring people together. (So does walking in the evening Bucharest after a nice drink ;) )

Well anyway, these days held a bit of depression, as some more things are changing around me. Only now do I get used to my recent job change, and it seems that my plans for the next year will also need some re-think. When change happens permanently, on professional and personal level, it starts getting a bit annoying. Yes, one can adapt and yes, it is recommendable to be able to adapt, but sometimes it can become alienating. Each one of us can only take a definite amount of change around, and when suddenly half a world (or what seems like it) tumbles, then we are at best left confused about what is going on.

Just hang on, hang on to the vine
Stay on, soon you’ll be divine
If you start to cry, look up to the sky
Something’s coming up ahead
To turn your tears to dew instead
(Pink Martini, Hang On Little Tomato)

Somehow you make it better

Most of the people who write blogs do so, I gather, either because they are selfish exhibitionist ass-holes who don’t find a soul in the real world to listen to them anymore, or simply because their writing ambitions have been killed off at some point – maybe by the need to earn a “decent” piece of bread, or maybe they thought they were not good enough for the part. I find myself in none of the categories, though maybe some of you who do read me have another opinion. Two years ago, when I started blogging, I was trying to cure an advanced phase of workaholism, which I’m sure hasn’t passed for good. Even now, most of the posts I write are based in some way or the other on my work, although I try not to give out any real names or point to any *real* seeming situations. Most of the times, the posts are some kind of dumb attempts to fix broken things – be it in my life, or in other’s lives. Sometimes, they are even a good replacement for it.

There were evenings when, on returning from either work or getting drunk with friends, I thought that I should finish the blog – just tell you that the fun is over and delete all the posts – but couldn’t help myself not to. In some way, it keeps alive one of the things I’m thinking about doing sometime in future: writing. And so I move on, boat against the current, excelling and finding an own sort of happiness in words never spoken.

A silly girl with silly ways I hear this I'm pitiful
I'll be that girl can you give me the strength to be free

Lifting me I don't know how you do it but it's lifting me
Keep lifting me I don't know how you do it but it's lifting me, yeah
(The Corrs, Lifting Me)

Litany against Fear

We fear many things – that we won’t get the right mark in our exams, that we will not be loved, that the ones we care about will die, that we will not get that promotion we wanted so badly and worked for... We do not admit to fearing, because fear gives birth to uncertainty, and our actions may look less composed if there are cracks in our armours.

So how do you take away the fear? Is it with love, the tender warm care that keeps you focused on the other and forgetful about the demons? Or is it by self-righteous forgetting, the long hours spent in looking at the shadows projected on empty walls. A long time ago, I took a long walk in the night of a foreign city, when I faced all the demons in my head and gave each one of them a name. They were in reach of my hand, and each time I tried to turn my face away, they re-appeared, endlessly multiplied by my ardent imagination. My fear of darkness died that night, and maybe there was more calmness in the way I saw the world from then on, knowing that demons can only tempt you and not take anything from you, if you don’t let them.

Anyway, of late I have noticed how many people still fear – fear itself, or maybe what they fear might happen (or not), pouring their energies into defenses so frail it could make the real fear burst into laughter. There is little we can do to to help others step outside their little castles built to fend off fear. What might work is to receive them into our lives with no expectations and letting our own fear of closeness go.

Chiquitita, tell me whats wrong
Youre enchained by your own sorrow
In your eyes there is no hope for tomorrow
How I hate to see you like this
There is no way you can deny it
I can see that youre oh so sad, so quiet
(ABBA, Chiquitita)

Just like honey

When people sleep close to one another, are the dreams they dream the same? And if they are not, do they see one another from their dreams and wave? Or do the dreams fight one another to stay private? Or even more so, do dreams compete to be special and be dreamt?

The morning sun is in my eyes
It doesn't hide the lines
It does not bare
A great disguise
Happy birthday baby
Happy birthday
(The Cranberries, Every Morning)