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)

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! :)

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.

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)

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)

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..."

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)

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.

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.

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)

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)

Pretending to be an angel

During childhood, I was led to believe that love stories lasted forever, and if they did not, it was due to the death of one lover, which immediately led to the death (physical or emotional) of the other. Things did not shift much, they remained within controllable patterns. It is less of a disturbance to think in patterns: you minimise the risks of hitting the bottom of thinking by trying to attach logic to the astrays of emotionalism. However, as I learned after archiving my storybooks in the attic, relationships do not always end good (eg marriage, loads of children, big house and Nirvanic happiness). In fact, the ones that do are quite suspicious :). What people realize less is the impact of their termination upon the others. After a couple of friends have broken up, we cannot go out with both of them any more; separate meetings are necessary, and of course the subject of the relationship must be avoided. New people enter their respective lives – and ours – and sometimes we cannot help ourselves but to compare the present state with “what used to be” and finding exactly those differences which make us regret the older days.

Does it make sense better live alone, rather than inflicting the pain of changing the status quo? This all depends on the base we make our choices on. Were we here only to care for the happiness of others, maybe it would make sense to store our inner self in others, and hope they will keep it safe. But we can’t – because we do not trust others sufficiently (more about this in a next post) – and maybe because we have no idea how to do it.

Who else is gonna bring you a broken arrow
Who else is gonna bring you a bottle of rain
There he goes moving across the water
There he goes turning my whole world around
(Rod Stewart, Broken Arrow)

The less I speak, the more I get to sleep

There is an advertisment I like very much, for a telecom operator. It says: “The things you do not say are lost” (RO: Lucrurile pe care nu le spui, se pierd). I’d extend it to say the things you would like to do but don’t are also lost. And generally, every attitude you would have liked to have but did not have at the right moment, does not define you. Or every little word you would have liked to say in a certain context, or that hand you would have liked to hold out for a friend, or that kiss you would have liked to give… They are all lost forever, for that particular moment will not return, and the ever changing context will lead to different situations, out of which probably the least will prove satisfactory.

It’s like always telling oneself “Tomorrow I will kiss him” or “Starting today I’ll give money to all the old beggars I see” – and never doing it. These negations create expectations in oneself, and not fulfilling them leads to a state of inner turmoil that never seems to cease. It’s not like you should really say everything that crosses your mind (some stuff might *cross* people around you) – but just remember this is the life, these are the opportunities, and this is what you can or cannot make of them. Pondering risks and evaluating possibilities is ok – as long as you do not get more involved in thinking about the structure than about living it out.

PS: There are some of you who told me they would like to read the blog in Romanian, so I’m pondering the idea.
PS1: Much activity and a great idea from Mihai on the Musicblog lately. Check it out: http://www.musicblog.ro/

I'm hearing images, I'm seeing songs
No poet has ever painted
Voices call out to me, straight to my heart
So strange yet we're so well acquainted
I let the music speak, with no restraints
I let my feelings take over
Carry my soul away into the world
Where beauty meets the darkness of the day
(ABBA, I let the music speak)

Apology for not answering the phone

Sometimes we think that people think the way we do and act as other models of ourselves. That is not right, and we know it, but still we react nervously whenever they do things that seem wrong to us – wrong not because they would be so in essence, but because they affect us and because we can not find the meaning we would like to find in them.

Sorry for not picking up the phone when it rings and I do not recognize the number… It’s just that I don’t really enjoy speaking on the phone, and I truly appreciate the ones of you out there who send me SMS or write to me :-)

I’m the darkness in the light
I’m the leftness in the right
I’m the rightness in the wrong
I’m the shortness in the long
I’m the goodness in the bad
I’m the saneness in the mad
I’m the sadness in the joy
I’m the gin in the gin-soaked boy
(The Divine Comedy, Gin-Soaked Boy)

There is no Briony

We declared Friday night a movies' night and I finally saw Atonement, one of the Oscar-nominated motion pictures this year. It was nominated in seven categories, including Best Picture. Probably it will also win some – my movie sniffing nose has never been precise in knowing who will win and who won't.

Anyway, as we saw the film at nearly 3AM, there is little of the dialogues I do remember, and probably they weren't even meant to be that interesting, as the cinematography was absolutely dazzling. This is a classic movie, with classic pictures and some annoyingly good scenes, set in a rich mansion of the 1930s England, some time before the war began. The love story (yes, there is one) unravels quite suddenly but is predictable, except for the double perspective, which is not something you necessarily expect; the watchers are shown what really happens and also how the scenes are seen by a 13-year old Briony, the main female character's sister. Not having yet outgrown the innocence of her age and thus only understanding half-truths of her sister's love story, she tells a lie which changes lives and gives life to a book she will analyse years later.

With the epic storyline, you would expect some more intricacy on character level – but they don't become very complex, although well played. It's the usual He (James McAvoy, really cool) in love with Her (Keira Knightley, at her most beautiful), not knowing if he will return from the war safely to marry and love her, and it's the She who only shines in the pre-war moments (the rest is a combination of “Come back to me” mantras and arrow-looks pointed at the younger sister). What “Atonement” does, however, is to erase the thin line between what is real and what can be imagined as being real in love. Briony is trying to find atonement for her childhood lie by restoring what should have been real, the life that should have been lived. The end of the story gives little encouragement, though. You start wondering if there was a point – at all, and if a few moments of bliss could justify the suffering. In Cold Mountain, for example, there was a sort of an ending, because both character's travels were directed to the future, to the hope that they would see one another again. In Atonement, all you can ask yourself is if forgiveness should be granted to the story – or to the deceiver.

Hair that twirls on finger tips so gently, baby
Hands that rest on jutting hips repenting
Hurt that's not supposed to show
And tears that fall when no one knows
When you're trying hard to be your best
Could you be a little less
(Madonna, Do you know what it feels like for a girl)

Every time we live together

To find a meaning in life and easily spinning around finding that perfect thread to solving the mental intricacies that keep us away from our purpose – kills writing. Sometimes you secretly wish your problems wouldn’t go away – for your sake, and maybe also for the others’ sake, who seek models on the outside to reflect their own discontent and their own incapacity to deal with themselves.

Life unwinds more easily than one would expect, and meanings are always glued to actions we cannot always comprise in the glimpse of a moment. The funny thing is – one does not always need to search for a meaning. I’ve met someone not very long ago who decided to restrict his life to only a few actions outside work. He was striving between a parallel living made from photography and his unwanted IT life. Although his formation was actually different from both his money-making activities, he seemed to somehow have been drawn to fixing himself on a certain path, only in order not to lose the broader view.

But does happiness really lie in these trivial details?

Spacing from paris to new york
Silver sunglasses
Silver phone
Connect us to someone
Who doesnt know
About these feelings we cant control
(Hooverphonic, Renaissance Affair)

Buon giorno, principessa!

Sometimes, we are hurt by the bare image of dawn descending, or the tip of a sun-ray touching some dry roses left over from the last birthday we celebrated with them... the eternal “them” who hurt us, maybe unknowingly or maybe as a demonstration of power. Either by saying the words, by not saying the words, by mumbling the wrong sentences or murmuring too many of the right ones, it is the great unknown “them” we share our lives with who have the greatest power to hurt us, of all.

So how do we escape the land of despair? One of you must keep the emotional balance and continue to feel. The moment both are lost behind the wall of so-called protection, chances are that you are going to lose one another, and develop deep seated depressions you will hardly find a way out of. Instead of remaining bruised and indulging in the thought that loneliness will grow fruit, choose to live in the sun. Yes, there are small happenings, here and then, when you think that maybe you would have been better off if you had not reached out at all. Just think of the costs, for a second. If we accept that the purpose of our lives is to be happy – and make others happy, as well, then we will also accept consequences such as the inevitable hurt more easily.

I believe that the warmth in our hearts can help hidden hearts also see the sun.

I will meet you at the Blue Cafe
Because, this is where the one who knows
Meets the one who does not care
The cards of fate
The older shows
To the younger one, who dares to take
The chance of no return
Where have you been?
Where are you going to?
I want to know what is new
I want to go with you
(Chris Rea, The Blue Cafe)

Woman. Warrior. Queen.

It is so strange how alone one finds oneself in moments most wholesome. How in the split of a second you find yourself distanced from every one and everything around you. These are the moments of truth, of facing yourself as you are, those brief splits in time when you see yourself in everybody around you and would rather run away, than to see again and again the same I you would like to avoid – even if it were for one batting of eyelashes.

So it happens that, to be a part of others again, you must give up a part of yourself in lonely times you need not account to anybody for.

Till now I always got by on my own
I never really cared until I met you
And now it chills me to the bone
How do I get you alone

you don't know how long i have wanted
to touch your lips and hold you tight
(Heart, Alone)

Meet me tonight in Atlantic City

We all have our playgrounds. Some of us are the founders of companies we run with passion and determination. Others like teaching and dedicate lives to making others understand. There are people I know who play dancing in different discos every night, others who carefully ponder personal issues or job switches. In a certain sense, they are all playing, even when they think are taking things seriously.

This is good indeed – it helps with keeping up childhood in us and increases a sort of self imposed confidence that, within the boundaries we set for ourselves, all will be well.

Making the time
Find the right lines
To make you stay forever
What do I have to tell you
I'm just trying to hold on to something
(Jon Secada, Just Another Day)