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  • Ghost

    Ghost

    Sunday, 31 May 2020

    How long has this lockdown been. 8 weeks? 9 weeks? I don’t know. It feels interminable. I feel like I have no voice in this new world. It has brought the best and the worst out of me. It has united and polarised us. It has unmasked the biases I didn’t know I had … and, never wanted to confront. I think that many of us are clamouring to be heard. We want to know that we still have voice, that we still matter and that there is still meaning. We’re not being heard and not being seen None of us. We’re ghosts …

    I cook. I clean. I wash. I work. I drive. I love. I shout. I scream. They don’t hear me. They don’t see me. I’m alone. I’m a mother. I’m a ghost.

    I fix things. I work. I pick up. I drop off. I love. I shout. I scream. They don’t hear me. They don’t see me. I’m lonely. I’m a father. I’m a ghost.

    I stand on the street corner. I work. I wave my sign. I smile. I look frail. I’m hungry. I’m lonely. I’m hurt. I love. I shout. I scream. Why don’t they see me? Why don’t they hear me? I’m a beggar. I’m a ghost.

    I study. I eat. I stay in my room. I do chores. I love. I’m lonely. I try to fit in. I don’t fit in. Why am I invisible? I shout. I scream. I’m a son. I’m a daughter. I’m a ghost.

    I’m restless. I’m needy. I’m unfulfilled. I’m weak. I’m powerless. I want to be loved. I want to love. I’m lost. I’m lonely. I’m alone. Someone notice me … please. I’m human. I’m a ghost.

    If like me, you’ve ever felt lost, unappreciated, unloved, unfulfilled, regretful, guilty, dissatisfied, disjointed, fractured or disappointed, then you know what a ghost feels like.

    It cannot get peace (and leave this realm) because it’s trapped in a pit of self-pity, a river of regret and a desert of depression.

    It’ll only be released to blessed peace and the bosom of mother Eden when it lets go of its expectations of how the world should be.

    If it expects the world to be appreciative, loving and grateful for it being sentient, it’ll be damned to an eternity of regret, dissatisfaction and disappointment.

    The ghost can only find solace when it realises that the world owes it nothing. Its children owe it nothing. Its boss owes it nothing. Its employees owe it nothing. Its spouse owes it nothing. The planet owes it nothing.

    It will only find peace and move on when it realises that it owes everything – appreciation, happiness, awe, gratitude and love to the world and those that rent space in it.

    We should make peace with the world as it is now and make peace with our role in it. The consequences and regret of not doing so will last for an eternity. Once the ghost allows itself to accept things as they are, and gives itself up with grace, only then will it be released into an eternity of joy.

    This piece of text is a vignette from my book, What If Hollywood Doesn’t Call? A Fractured Monk’s Guide To Enlightenment. I wrote it a year or so ago, it feels like I wrote it for today.

    Goodbye and hello PechaKucha Johannesburg

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    I popped you a message on Friday regarding the future of PechaKucha Johannesburg. If you missed it, you can read it here.

    Guess the author

    I’d love your help. Have a look at the doodle below. Who’s the author you’d think of first? If you have the time and inclination, please pop me an email with who you think it is. In next week’s newsletter, I’ll reveal the results and the rationale behind the question.

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    Those People

    Do you remember last week’s piece called Those People? Apparently, I have learned a new skill in lockdown and turned it into a short (01:04) video. It’s a wonderful way to repurpose the key points of your written content. Have a peek at it and let me know what you think.

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    My best to you,

    Jacques

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    Let me write your EPIC legacy story.

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  • Those people

    Those people

    Are you one of those people?

    • Smart as a whip but you dumb down your work so that dumb people can feel smart?
    • Do you play small so that others don’t feel like less?
    • Do you dull your genius so that you don’t rock the boat?

    Don’t be that person.

    Choose rather to celebrate your magnificence by standing up, standing out and standing in your power.

    This is how you survive mediocrity, morons and monsters.

  • Goodbye and hello Pechakucha Johannesburg

    Goodbye and hello Pechakucha Johannesburg

    Under the circumstances that we find ourselves in, it’s not surprising that PechaKucha is going online globally (it is now run in 1227 cities).

    So too, with PechaKucha Jozi.

    I’m a Zoom/Webinar luddite. My register and resonance is not online. It is in the meeting of people and mixing with people. Consequently, I’ve handed over the reins to Björn Salsone. He’s an energetic, bright, switched on young man who will serve the PechaKucha brand and you with distinction … of that I have no doubt. He has done a bang up job with our social media and been a great support in many respects.

    Fill in the form

    If you want to receive notifications on future PechaKucha Jozi events (or speak at them), please pop your name and email address on the form, so that Björn can reach out to you.

    My best to you,

    Jacques

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    With Thanks

    It is with gratitude and thanks that I hand over the reins. The last two or so years as organiser of PechaKucha Johannesburg have been one of the best experiences of my life.

    I’ve met so many wonderful people who have innumerably enhanced my life. I became a better version of myself because of you.

    Thank you to Bronwyn Hesketh for handing over the reins to me all those years ago. You didn’t know it then, but that gesture changed my life. And, you still have a hand in changing my life. For that I’ll always be grateful.

    Thank you to my stalwart team who kept me calm when I had a panic attack, grounded when I became unmoored and humble when I started believing my own PR. Without you there would never have been even one PechaKucha meeting. I appreciate you all: Deborah du Plooy, Kim Hunter and Kirsten Rolston.

    Kirsten, please relay my deep appreciation to all the unsung heroes of Skoobs Theatre of Books … James, Keith and all the other staff who set up the room and fed us and made sure everything ran as it should.

    Skoobs and the enduring friendships that I made there played a big part in my life over these years. I pray that the bookstore will survive this thing that has befallen us and will soon be full of bibliophiles, authors and eccentrics. Just like it was.

    Last, but not least, thank you Rick Allen for taking on the role of master of ceremonies for many a time.

    Bye and thank you.

  • Fitzgerald could have been a great author

    Fitzgerald could have been a great author

    I love hanging out with authors, particularly the broken ones. I like them because they’re fractured beyond repair. Their disabilities, impediments, diseases, perversions, alcoholism and drugs should have disadvantaged them.

    They’re base animals, surging with emotions and lacking in logic. Yet, they’ve carved out a tiny footnote in history, more than most of us can say.

    I turn to these crazy ones to make sense of a a moronic world; a world that’s ridiculous .

    You, like me, may already have reached out to these writers.

    Can they help you make sense of your crumbling world?

    We should listen to them, these alcoholics, diseased, depressed and suicidal souls: Ingrid Jonker, Dorothy Parker, Dylan Thomas, J.M Coetzee, Tennessee Williams, Truman Capote, Jack Kerouac, William Faulkner, Charles Bukowski, James Joyce, F. Scott Fitzgerald and Ernest Hemingway.

    If you’ve reached out to any of them, then you my friend are on the right path.

    Maybe like me, you read their art because you know that you’re on the wrong path.

    Maybe like me, you haven’t discovered your path with heart, yet.

    Maybe like me, you read them because  you’ve sold out. You’ve chosen an average life and not a warrior’s life.

    Maybe like me, you’re looking for the hack, the short-cut and the easy life.
    And, maybe like me, you’re finding this notion as impossible as it is to find the Holy Grail. I’m convinced that we each have the Holy Grail in ourselves.

    But we don’t recognise it. We keep searching for it outside of ourselves. We’ve doomed ourselves to lost souls being picked up at sea by the Flying Dutchman. Our fate is never to make port and we’re doomed to sail the seven seas forever. When you’re on the Flying Dutchman, you don’t even get to the afterlife … you just hang about hungry, remorseful, resentful and lonely … forever.

    That’s a fate you would’t wish on your worst enemy. And that’s why you and I read the works of the broken ones. We suspect (and hope and pray) that they found the secret to the Holy Grail and that they can teach it to us.

    Reading the words of the fractured ones is not easy. It’s painful, messy and real; like your life and mine. They don’t have fantasy happy endings. They have blood, sweat, tears and shit. They have disappointment, hate, rejection, jealousy, affliction, fear and guilt. They mirror our lives.

    On 28 May 1934, Ernest Hemingway replied to a letter from his friend F. Scott Fitzgerald. Fitzgerald wanted Hemingway’s opinion on his fourth (and final) novel, Tender is the Night.

    Hemingway’s response was brutal in its honesty. His brutality has unlocked a piece of the puzzle for me on how to get out of average and into awesome. It’s given me an insight on how I can navigate this life elegantly and eloquently, warts and all. I’ve extracted some of Hemingway’s insights.

    This could be helpful to you.

    Key West
    28 May 1934

    Dear Scott:

    I liked it and I didn’t. You started fooling with them, making them come from things they didn’t come from, changing them into other people and you can’t do that, Scott.

    You, who can write better than anybody can, who are so lousy with talent that you have. Scott for God sake write and write truly no matter who or what it hurts but do not make these silly compromises.

    You’ve stopped listening except to the answers to your own questions. That’s what dries a writer up (we all dry up. That’s no insult to you in person) not listening. You see well enough. But you stop listening.

    It’s a lot better than I say. But it’s not as good as you can do.

    For Christ sake write and don’t worry about what the boys will say nor whether it will be a masterpiece nor what. I write one page of masterpiece to ninety one pages of shit. I try to put the shit in the wastepaper basket. You feel you have to publish crap to make money to live and let live.

    Forget your personal tragedy. We are all bitched from the start and you especially have to hurt like hell before you can write seriously. But when you get the damned hurt use it … don’t cheat with it. Be as faithful to it as a scientist-but don’t think anything is of any importance because it happens to you or anyone belonging to you.

    You see, Bo, you’re not a tragic character. Neither am I. All we are is writers and what we should do is write. But you’re no more of a rummy than Joyce (James) is and most good writers are. But Scott, good writers always come back. Always. You are twice as good now as you were at the time you think you were marvellous. You know I never thought so much of Gatsby at the time. You can write twice as well now as you ever could. All you need to do is write truly and not care about what the fate of it is. Go on and write.

    F. Scott Fitzgerald
    Fitzgerald could have been a great author but he was too worried about what others thought about his art.

    You can be a great author (of your life to). Go and write that life story. Don’t worry if it isn’t a masterpiece, most of it will be shit anyway. Put the crap into the wastepaper basket. Don’t worry about what others think of you. Don’t try and get what they have. You’re better than that. You already have so many gifts right now, why would you want more than is your due?

    Let you impediments, disabilities and constraints sharpen your intent and steel your will to make the most of this life you have. Get this once and for all … you are the Grail. It’s not outside of you. It’s inside of you. Touch it. Feel it. Bend the knee and be grateful and in awe that you are the most perfect and special being.

    Listen. Really listen. Hear what your heart whispers, “Go on … write. Write your story. I want to hear it. The world wants to hear it.”

    Fitzgerald was a good author. He could have been great. It’s too late for him. It’s not too late for you. You are better today than you were yesterday and you’re going to get better still.

    Write.

    Write for all you’re worth.

    Live.

    Live for all you’re worth.

  • We’re built to run

    We’re built to run

    I wrote this three years ago. It seems like yesterday and a whole different planet away.

    I’m training for my first Comrades Marathon (86,6 km) on 4 June 2017. Here are some of the lessons I’ve learned thus far.

    We’re always striving for something

    I’m 53. Hardly the time to be looking for new frontiers to conquer. Yet, like you, I do it. I think it’s in our nature to to push ourselves until the end. It’s in our nature to strive to make the most of this short time we’ve been given on this planet. It’s in our nature to leave more than we take.

    Running is natural

    If you believe in a grand design, you’ve got to believe that we were built to run. In times long forgotten the only way we were able to survive was to run our prey to exhaustion. So, when I run, it’s with the joy of using my body for its true purpose.

    Your standards are raised, whether you like it or not

    In most countries one can spend all year training for a marathon (42.2 km). In South Africa one uses marathons as training runs. This is what happens when you have audacious goals. For most South African runners, the Comrades Marathon, the gold standard of long distance running, is that audacious goal. But we need to start small. First 5 km, then 10, then 21, then 42,2 and then 89 km. Each of us is training for our ‘gold standard’ and we use this life and its gifts and challenges to hone us into sharp blades of purpose.

    Face the enemy

    Whenever I run, I run facing the traffic. I’ve found that not everyone is benevolent. Most drivers swing out ever so slightly so as not to harm me. But some stay on their line or even veer towards me, forcing me into the bushes. I’ve learned that not everyone is there to set each other up for success. There are bad people out there. This has heightened my vigilance and I’m becoming good at avoiding ugly situations, both on and off the road.

    Running is discipline

    I know that if I have any hope of completing the 89 km ultra marathon, I need to hit the road almost every day. I need to log 60 km – 80 km a week on my legs. I need to get up every day. I don’t have the opportunity to feel sorry for myself and rest. I think this is true for my life too. I need to run until the very end. Thank goodness I have the Comrades Marathon as a goal. If I didn’t there’d be days when I wouldn’t get up and run. I think that worthwhile stretch goals are essential to keep us going.

    Ego is the enemy

    There are days when I run, that I see a lone runner in the distance. I pick up my pace and I catch up with him or her. I give words of encouragement and overtake. Then I feel quite chuffed with myself and a bit proud. Except, what I can never know is how far that runner has come already. Perhaps he or she has already run 20 km and I’ve only started with 3 km on my legs. Of course it will be easier to catch up and overtake, as I’m still relatively fresh.

    It makes me realise that there are people that have done what I’m doing and more. Thus, they may be tired. They may have run the route before and know the challenges that are coming and are being cautious and conserving their energy. They deserve my respect and not my ego.

    You’re smart enough to know who I’m talking about, don’t you?

    Those that are older and wiser than us – parents, teachers and grandparents. All those people who have come before us and conspired to set us up for success. Paraphrasing from Isaac Newton, “The shoulders of giants I’ve stood on so that I can see further.”

    Play injured

    I picked up a tendon injury in December. My running has been erratic since. I’ve had to rest up. I’ve had to reduce my weekly kilometres. I’ve had to run on flat roads instead of hills. The pain has made me want to quit on more than one occasion. But I need to stay the course. I know if I quit the course, I won’t achieve my goal – to finish the Comrades Marathon in relatively good shape.

    Also, if I quit this small task ahead of me, what else will I quit? Also, I’ve never met a top human being that doesn’t play injured. We all have our own ‘tendon injuries’.

    We all have demons we need to fight every day. These demons seldom leave us and are there to keep up our resolve to stay the course until the end. I wish that the tendon injury was the only demon that I have to fight. But I have hordes that I have to deal with in all areas of my life – health, spiritual, mental, financial and relationships.

    I just have to hang onto the notion that every setback and every victory shapes me into the most amazing human being I’m still to become. If I didn’t have this hope, there’d really be no point in continuing this journey, would there?

    Running makes you humble

    I’m not talking about knowing how frail, unfit and ungainly I really am on the road. That’s a given. I’m not talking about that I’m short and stocky and not a natural long distance runner. No, there’s something else that humbles me. Spending time on the road, I observe things. I observe that I run for pleasure whilst others run to get to work. I observe that I go to the gym to build my body whilst others build their bodies by hewing out the stone that is Africa. I observe that I walk when I’m tired whilst others walk to work. I observe that I have R3000 running shoes on my feet whilst others have no shoes. I get to have a pre-workout protein bar and a post-workout protein shake to feed my body. Then I still get to add three wholesome meals a day to that. For some people I run past, one pre-workout protein bar would be their entire meal for the day. And, that’s if they were lucky.

    Running makes you grateful

    I ran from Kuilsrivier halfway to Stellenbosch (Western Cape) and back (20 km) the other day and felt such a sense of gratitude. I felt gratitude that I could run with the mountains on my right and beautiful farms on my left. I felt gratitude that I could run in such a beautiful environment. I felt gratitude that I could run and run and run.

    Running gives you acceptance

    To be honest, I’m scared. I’m scared that this tendon injury will prevent me from getting to the race. I’m scared that I will make it to the race and bail out, injured at some time. I’m scared that I’ll blow out because I know I’m going into the race undercooked and unfit. But at the same time, I’m prepared to accept that I could fail at this endeavour. I accept that failure is not the end. I accept that I can try again and again and again.

    After all, this life is about practicing and working out things so that we can get to the finish line in good shape. And when we get to the finish line, we can look back and say, “Now that was a job well done.”

  • Why I Write Long Articles

    Why I Write Long Articles

    One of the criticisms I hear the most when it comes to my writing is that my articles are too long and convoluted. 

    That’s about right. When I reread them later it is clear that they’re not an easy read. They’re gritty, dark and stark of candy floss.

    • It’s clear that I struggle to be articulate.
    • It’s clear that I struggle with concepts and my own place in the world.
    • It’s clear that I struggle to figure things out.
    • It’s clear that I struggle.

    A lot of my writing is a reflection of my own struggle to make sense of this uncertain life. My themes are darker – loss, fear, death, redemption, surrender, regret and wrong turns. 

    If I really think about it, my take is that both good and the bad happen to us to shape us into the beings we are today and the beings we are to become. If I really interrogate my view of the world, it is frightening in one sense and liberating in another. There’s a dim realisation deep in me that says, “You’re not in control of your destiny … something bigger than you is pulling the strings.” I have a feeling that my journey has been mapped out already. The only ‘control’ I have is how I use the cards that I’m dealt. That’s where I get to use my greatest gift …

    choice…

    The only time I’m ever in control is when I choose how I’m going to respond to anything that’s dished up to me.

    When something bad happens to me and someone says, “Everything happens for a reason,” I used to get angry. Seriously, what a patronising response to my misfortune. I don’t get angry anymore because I’m starting to believe that it’s true.

    The author, Douglas Adams says, “I may not have gone where I intended to go, but I know I ended up where I needed to be.”

    I attempt to end every article on a positive and uplifting note. It’s clear that my ‘happy endings’ are not bright, revelatory sunrises. They’re more like morning mist over a muddy moor … enough light to see but not enough light to totally trust the treacherous path.

    I know that ‘success’ is tainted by shades of grey. I would imagine for every ‘success’ there was some collateral damage along the way.

    • Maybe you become financially successful but lose your health and family along the way.
    • Maybe you win the girl/guy and shatter your competitor’s heart in the process.
    • Maybe you get to run a country but sell your soul to the devil for the privilege.
    • Maybe you get to worship your God at the expense of someone else’s God.
    • Maybe you get to live in the lap of luxury off the sweat of slaves.
    • Maybe that diamond on your finger is a ‘blood diamond’ and tens of thousands of people died for that privilege.
    • So, pretty much all success is tainted in one form or another. 

    I believe that we’ve been sold a lie that life is easy and that there’s always a light at the end of the tunnel. Are we really all so naive to believe that we will experience the perfect life – a forever adoring wife/husband? Kids that love us unconditionally. The house with the white picket fence. Two cars and two dogs. And, when we meet our maker, it will be at age 80 from a heart attack at 3 am in our sleep. Painless and quick.

    You see, my articles are long, tortuous and uncertain because I know that I don’t have easy answers for those that read my work. In fact, I’m just a bit of a poser. I pose more questions than give answers.

    I’d rather die than come off the mountain with 10 commandments of how to live your life. The ink from my pen will dry up before I ever give you “The 5 Steps to Happiness; The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People; The 3 Rules To Enlightenment and 50 Ways To Fight Your Fears.

    I’ll never be so arrogant as to think I can walk in your shoes and feel what you feel. I’ll never be so crass as to say, “Everything happens for a reason”, when you have lost your job, your child, your health or your relationship. I can’t ever feel what it’s like to be inside your skin. I can’t ever really feel your pain.

    I can just struggle with you in empathy and love and try an make sense of this journey. That’s all I can do. And, that’s why I write long articles.

    Eccentricities that I like (and you might too)

    1. Hat tip to Rich Mulholland for this piece. Kevin Kelly’s 68 bits of unsolicited advice. This is a super read and will only take you 5 minutes. Read the article here.
    2. If you’re super stressed when you hear “My Fellow South Africans …” then learn box breathing (four-secs in, four-secs hold four-secs exhale,four secs hold) and try do it at least three times a day (three full boxes.) Once again, hat tip to Richard Mulholland for sending it to me. If you feel like you want to evisicerate two people on FB a day and then yourself at the end of the day, rather try the app, it’s brilliant. It will keep you out of jail and you’ll be like a Zen master.
    3. How to talk to someone with no imagination.
    4. A new definition of killing it by Margot Aaron.
    5. The moral imagination by Seth Godin.
    6. Take your promotional showreel from meh to memorable with Jason Hewlett
    7. Barry Hilton made me miss my mom.
    8. Skit Scot Cath has been entertaining me (and others) with her quirky and eccentric skits on FB. Go watch her and enjoy. She’s a real treasure
    9. People are coming up with the most enchanting ways to laugh at themselves. This one is an absolute riot.
    10. PechaKuchaJoburg will be going online soon. I’ve passed on the mantle to a delightful and enthusiastic chap call Bjorn Salsone (who MCd the last two events). He will take PK to the next level of its evolution. I’ll keep you in the loop next week when the ink is dry on the contract.

    My best,

    Jacques

    www.jacquesevilliers.co.za

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  • Do you use a crayon or a fountain pen?

    Do you use a crayon or a fountain pen?

    Hello,

    Before I became cantankerous and cynical, I used to run workshops to help people find their purpose, make a difference, leave a legacy and set goals; that sort of thing. And, I loved it. I loved teaching people to design their lives so that they could be anything they wanted to be. For a brief time I felt comfortable in my skin. You know that feeling … you feel at home and you know your place in the world. It’s intoxicating.

    As things moved on I realised I was more Velveteen Rabbit (loose at the joints and very shabby) than Superman. It became apparent to me that I was getting it all wrong and teaching all wrong. (That’s why you should be hesitant to drink the guru’s Kool-Aid because she is often more fractured (and clueless) than the people she teaches.)

    image

    It occurred to me that when I tried to manufacture a positive outcome through my own endeavours, it rarely succeeded. When it did succeed, it was often an anticlimax. If you already know what’s coming to you, where’s the surprise and mystery in that? Also, when it did succeed, I was often disappointed and disillusioned. It wasn’t quite what I thought I wanted. The perfect girlfriend, bank account, car, house, kids, business. Mmm, ‘perfection’ comes with it’s own set of complications and the apple loses its shine quite quickly. It occurred to me that destinations are where dreams go to die.

    It is apparent that when I try and control the outcome of my life, it looks like a child’s crayon drawing, barely fridge-worthy.

    I have come to realise that there’s something infinitely more ingenious than me that is elegantly and eloquently mapping out my life (with a fountain pen and not a crayon). This perfect mess of a life is working out just as it should.

    If this coronavirus situation has taught me anything, it’s taught me that The best-laid schemes o’ Mice an’ Men often go awry. The poet Robert Burns was spot on. This project of life is fraught with missteps and wrong turns and more than likely something will go wrong.

    This coronavirus has taught me that I really have no control of how my life will pan out. All I know is that like you, I am an unlimited masterpiece with at least one magnum opus in me.

    So, what’s the trick then? It’s not smart to ask me (and, stop asking others). You’ve already got the illumination inside you and you’re smart enough to figure it out.

    This is what I’m going to try and do going forward:

    • Surrender. I’m going to try and stop controlling the outcomes of my life. I’m going to throw away my crayons and let a true artist take this burden from me. I want my life to stop looking like an amateur community play. I want it to be magnificent. Not for anyone else, just for me. Just for once, I want it to be a work of art so that I can produce maybe just one magnum opus before I’m called home.
    • Become a follower and not a leader. In World War ll a batman was asked why he followed his captain everywhere. He replied something to the effect (yes, it has been a while since I’ve time-travelled to 1942 and the story is hazy) that he never knew what the captain would get up to next. He was alway curious to see what would happen next. That’s what I’m going to do. Just let this thing unfold and not put conditions on what will make me happy. I’ll be open to the mystery and uncertainty of what’s going to happen. I’ve no clue, really – that’s scary and exciting. And that raises my pulse, sends a tingle down my spine and makes me feel alive.
    • Gratitude is the grammar of life. Hell yeah! I’m going to be grateful for everything, every person and every moment that presents itself to me. I feel it deep down that this world is benign to you and me. Why would it harm us … it would only be harming itself? I feel that you and I are the point of this whole endeavour. This story that we are living in has been written for us to entertain and enchant us. I’m ready for a bit of enchantment, excitement and mystery, aren’t you?

    The more I try and design my life and control the outcomes around it, the more it becomes like an unsophisticated crayon drawing. I’m going to let the ingenuity infinitely more talented than me create a masterpiece out of me .. something nuanced, something with finesse, something beautiful and something quite magnificent.

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    This is my quote of the month (maybe the year). Etsko, you shot the

    lights out with this one.

    Writing Eccentricities

    1. Before I became cantankerous and cynical, I was manipulative and Machiavellian. I used to write sales copy for my clients. I became the worst version of myself in that time because I studied everything I could about manipulation – neuroscience, social science, hypnotic commands, psychology, black art persuasion – you name it, I’d studied it. I was good at it too. I made millions of rands for my clients and even had a course called How to Persuade Anyone to Buy Almost Anything (5000+ students through that) to teach others to be the same as me. Somewhere along the line I had a Damascene experience and picked up an eccentricity called morality. I’ve been seeing a lot of manipulative text on Facebook lately. These pieces of manipulative trash reminded me of how awful I was and how I preyed on the vulnerable, hopeless and hopeful. Last week I lost my shit and ranted in a piece called, Are You A Predatory Marketer? Read it as a cautionary tale. Both you and I fall for this stuff. You’re smart enough to know that in real life you can’t hack the system or find an easy way to reach your dreams.
    2. I fell in love with Seth Godin long ago and now I’m falling in love with Margot Aaron. I’m on her mailing list and she sent me a piece of text which starts with: A friend of mine admitted to me recently she was embarrassed that she *actually* believed the marketing messages targeting her about making “6-figures while working 3-hours a week from the beach!” She was shrouded in shame as she told me and perplexed as to why she was STILL clinging to that dream. She’s brilliant. If you want to read the rest of her article, email me (I can’t find it on her blog) and I’ll forward it to you. She told me to “Stop posting your fucking highlight reel.” You’ve got to love someone with that kind of honesty.
    3. My favourite copywriter is Drayton Bird. He probably also writes manipulative copy, but at least it’s a work of art (not like the crayon drawing of crap that I saw on Facebook) and you don’t mind being persuaded by a loveable old rogue. He’s just written a memoir called You Did What? 82 years of misadventure, mayhem – and millions. Just read his sales copy, it’s brilliant.

    Jacques

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  • Fractured Monk

    Fractured Monk

    Things have been strange for me lately. I’ve thrown more tantrums than a colic baby in the last three months. More than I have in the last eight years. I’m moody. I’m inflexible both physically and mentally. I’m impatient. I avoid courageous conversations. I’ve become taciturn and insular. I’m scared, fractured and forlorn.

    Folks that know me don’t understand my behaviour and of course, neither do I. Sometimes they’ll say something like, “You’re so spiritual. You should be above these feelings.”

    If they only knew that spiritually I’m about as conscious and complex as an Amoeba. I suppose that’s why I feel like an imposter most of the time when it comes to things spiritual.

    That got me thinking. Do we think that our spiritual teachers are above this human experience? Do our monks, rabbis, imams, pastors, shamans and priests take this path because they’re whole and near-perfect?

    They might portray an air of confidence. They look like they know something the rest of us don’t. They even look like they can show us the way to redemption. But they know that they’re faking it like the rest of us. They’re just as frail and fractured like you and me. I’ll bet that they feel like imposters too.

    They’re fractured monks like the rest of us.

    That’s why we shouldn’t be too shocked and judgmental when they falter and fall.

    I don’t believe anyone ends up in a church, mosque or synagogue because they’re fixed and perfect. And, those that lead their congregants are less so. They know they have lots of work to do on themselves.

    In my opinion, that’s the only worthwhile work there is, is working on oneself.

    It’s the only thing that we have some semblance of control over. We have little if any control on what others do but we do have control of ourselves.

    Why is self-work important? I believe that every answer we seek is in us. I believe that we have the same knowledge as our creator. We’ve just forgotten it. It’s our job to remember that knowledge.

    The only way we can do that is to spend time with ourselves. We need to dip out of the world, the noise and the pretence from time-to-time so that we can listen for the real answers.

    We need to go into the silence that only meditation can bring. When we pray we’re speaking to God and when we meditate God is speaking to us.

    I think it’s probably as simple as that. Be silent and hear God’s whisper.

  • You’re an unlimited masterpiece

    You’re an unlimited masterpiece

    If you’re like me, I’m sure that you want to leave at least one magnum opus before you depart this world. You want to leave a masterpiece and leave a legacy. And, maybe you want to become Einstein, da Vinci and Bieber-famous?

    You want people at your graveside singing eulogies of praise for the positive difference you made in the world.

    The thing is that relatively soon after your funeral you’ll be forgotten and become a fraction of a footnote in the grand scheme of things.

    If your intent is to become famous and make a difference, it’s an exercise in futility. If your intent is to fulfill your potential and do magnificent work, then that’s a different story altogether.

    But there’s a disconnect between what the world sees as great work and what really is great work.

    What’s your greatest work and whose to say you haven’t already done it? Some would say that it’s the book they wrote, the piece of art they created or the handy tool they invented. In my case, it feels like my one and only magnum opus is co-creating my daughter nearly 15 years ago. All my other ‘achievements’ pale into insignificance.

    There’s not one great piece of work that defines our existence. I think that our journey comprises of many magna opera. We can argue that when Phaestis birthed Aristotle; when Perictione birthed Plato; when Caterina birthed da Vinci; when Mary birthed Jesus and when Aminah birthed Muhammad, it was their greatest works.

    But that’s taking away from these mothers. They were more than incubators and and had other magna opera other than their sons. They never set out to have these ‘famous’ sons. It was more by luck than design (not their design, anyway) that they birthed these masterpieces.

    I suppose it depends on what we define as great work? Is it a piece of art, a piece of industry, a piece of literature or a piece of music?

    Or is the most significant magnum opus us? The human beings that we are. Are we the creator’s greatest work?

    I like to believe so. I like to believe that we were forged in the image of our creator. And, therefore, our work is to do great works every day. Our creator never made junk; only magna opera.

    I believe that every day we have an opportunity for many magna opera. Every time we interact with someone, it’s an opportunity to do a great work. Every time we are given a task, we can make it a masterpiece.

    The enchanting part of this whole thing is that most of us are never even aware of the the impact we’ve had in helping everyone else produce their own magna opera.

    If you’ve ever been kind to a stranger, loved someone, lifted up a child, soothed a sick one, let someone cry on your shoulder, given your ear to listen to someone in pain, held a hand, written something, painted something, composed something or mastered something then you created magna opera.

    Of course, the real trick is to do great works all the time and never expect anything in return. Doing great works is not about quid pro quo but rather about pro bono. And, ultimately, we do everything for one reason – pro deus (For God). The only way we can thank the creator for letting us play on this planet for a while, is to create masterpieces every single day.

    You probably don’t know of these souls, but all of them created their magna opera with a pro bono attitude.

    Mentor, Angelo Dundee, Jochebed, Charles Freer Andrews, Leigh Anne Tuohy, Feng-Shan Ho, Welles Crowther and Rebecca-Jade.

    • Mentor advisor to Odysseus and his son, Telemachus.
    • Angelo Dundee, mentor to Muhammad Ali.
    • Jochebed, Moses’s mother saved him from certain death.
    • Charles Freer Andrews was a friend of Gandhi and convinced him to come back to India from South Africa.
    • Leigh Anne Tuohy took in a homeless boy called Michael Oher who became a professional footballer (Gridiron).
    • Feng-Shan Ho saved 2000 Jews from the Holocaust.
    • Welles Crowther (24) saved a dozen people from the 911 tragedy in 2001, he didn’t make it out of the Twin Towers.
    • Rebecca-Jade, daughter to Jacques de Villiers, saved him from himself.

    You are the greatest work ever created. Now go and fulfil your destiny and release the magnum opera that sits in you. You do great works every day. You may never know how your work impacts others. But it does and that impacts all of us.

    Go now.

    Go do great work because you are the creator’s ultimate magnum opus.

    You’ve never been built to produce junk, you’ve been built to give of your all and create your best work, pro bono and with gratitude.

    Go and do it now.

  • Destinations are where dreams go to die

    Destinations are where dreams go to die

    It’s in our nature to want better things for ourselves. We dream of a better life. We dream of a bigger house. We dream of a better place. We dream of a better car. We want better food. Better education. Better body. You name it, we want it bigger, better and more.

    We’re focused outward with our eyes in the direction of our goals, dreams and aspirations.

    Like the Pandora myth, the last thing we have in our box of tricks is hope. Islands of hope in a sea mischief, misery and mayhem is what keeps us in the game of life.

    Without hope, most of us would give up and let despair engulf us. What would be the point of continuing if there was no end to our misery and suffering? Hope is the flame that keeps us going. It keeps us wanting for more, bigger and better. Hope is the eternal heartbeat that keeps us alive.

    But, what is hope about? Why do we strive for bigger and better for our lives? Surely, it’s so that we can feel secure, worthy, happy and fulfilled.

    The flip side of hope is that it can be a dangerous and dark force. It can stop us from achieving our goals and it can set us up for disappointment.

    In the first instance, we’re actually scared to achieve what we set out to do because we’re like the proverbial dog that chases the car … what does it do with it when it catches it?

    What if the thing we want is not the actual thing we want? What if it’s a big fat disappointment? What if we still feel insecure, unfulfilled, powerless and out of harmony?

    So, we sabotage our dreams so that we don’t achieve what we want. Of course, whilst something is out of our reach that we want, we can always keep the flame of hope alive.

    They Lived Happily Ever After

    In the second instance, few stories delve into what’s after the ‘happily ever after’. Nobody digs into the drama and disappointment of having and owning the things we desire. How did it work out for the Prince that married Snow White? He had seven extra mouths to feed. And, that was after he wiped the noses and cleaned the backsides of his two children. He’d go to bed with Snow White’s shrill voice ringing in his ears, “We need a bigger castle. Sleepy needs a better bed, Grumpy needs more Prozac and Dopey needs an education. You’re never home. How can I present myself to court with this dress? Why aren’t you King yet?”

    The more we get, the more challenges are attached to what we have. Things become more complicated and stressful. Soon the Prince will wish (and hope) for the days gone by. When all he had to do was shoot deer, kill other men in some far-flung land, drink beer and flirt with anything in a skirt. Snow White too will have her own dreams. She’ll be coquettish with the King (who is widowed). Who wants to be a Princess when you can be a Queen? She’ll remember when she got high with Happy and dumbed it down with Dopey. Ah, those were the days … carefree, unfettered and uncomplicated.

    Destinations can kill dreams

    It appears that the destinations we want to go to and the things we want can be dream killers. In real life, they don’t live up to the picture we’ve created in our mind.

    Why is this? There’s no easy answer. But, one that works for me is that the world never gives you precisely what you want, does it?

    • How long does that ‘new car smell’ last before we’re hankering for a newer and better car?
    • How long before we’re dissatisfied with the house we live in, and want a bigger and better one?
    • How long are we satisfied with our partner before we want to upgrade?

    It’s clear to me that the more we want from the world, the less satisfied we are. And, the more we have, the more insecure we are because we are afraid that it’ll be taken from us.

    The trick is not to figure out what we can take from the world but rather what we can give to the world. The trick is not to have a bigger house, car and life but to have a bigger purpose.

    I’ve dreamed of

    I’ve hankered for things. I’ve dreamed of exotic destinations. I’ve got some of the things I hankered for and I’ve been to some of the destinations I’ve dreamed of. That iPad I had to have; where’s it now? I gave it to my daughter, Rebecca. I think she’ll get more use out of it than I can. The top of the range Macbook Pro is now only used for presenting my keynotes. Now days when I train people, I use a flip chart whilst the Macbook Pro gathers dust. I write this article on a 10 year old, iMac desktop. The Tag Heuer lies in the drawer for months at a time. The Mercedes lost its magic long time ago.

    I couldn’t handle more than a week in Mauritius, Hamilton Island or the Kruger National Park. Beautiful and spectacular as they are, they wore thin after three days. I hankered more for connection. I dreamt of being useful. I searched for purpose. I started looking inwards as opposed to the outer beauty that was around me. The same happened in Italy and France. All the culture, croissants and castles couldn’t keep me happy for long. I was still the same human with its foibles, fears, insecurities and hopes. The destination didn’t change my inner situation.

    The exotic destinations didn’t make my dreams come true. In fact, my dreams died there. I’m unconvinced that we were born to lie on the beach and soak up the sun. I’m unconvinced that the two-week holiday we hanker for every year will ever fill our hearts.

    I have to agree with Carlos Castaneda when he said, “All paths are the same; they lead nowhere.” He added that we should find a path with heart. The trick of finding a path with heart is not in the outward journey … not in the destination.

    For me, a path with heart is an inner journey. Finding out and discovering who we really are, how we can connect with others and be useful to them is a path that can ignite hearts. This path leads to happiness and fulfilment. This path doesn’t care whether we’re in a one-bedroomed flat in Yeoville or a 5-star hotel in Monte Carlo. This path can make us happy no matter our circumstances. It’s a path of purpose. It’s a path where we get to choose how we respond.

    Think about your purpose

    If we think about purpose, what makes us happy, fulfilled and harmonious? We get those feelings when our purpose is to connect and help other people. When we start to realise that we’re here for others and not ourselves. When we start to realise that we’re here to set others up for success. We get joy out of bringing joy to others and not from the things we own or the destinations we dream of.

    So, let’s connect, let’s contribute and let’s make this world a better place for everyone. That’s something worthwhile to hope for, isn’t it?