Abstract: Gratitude is the fuel that could guide excellence. “Did you become excellent with the many gifts that were given you?”, will be one of the questions we’ll need to account for at the end of this game.
Many of us baulk at the culture of mediocracy that has misshapen our world today. It has become the most prevalent disease of our age and has malformed us as a species.
It has turned us from craftsmen into caricatures of carelessness and from excellent to errant.
Excellence has become a Grail quest for many leaders, consultants and authors. There’s a befuddling amount of advice on how to strive for excellence. I’ve decided to pick a lane and run my idea of excellence through the filter that I’m going to argue for now.
In this piece of text I’m going to argue for one overarching reason to strive for excellence as a human being. The fuel that propels this premise is a concept called gratitude.
There are many reasons to strive for excellence. The usual suspects include becoming a better boss, a better employee, a better father/mother/son/daughter.
We are told that being excellent is about how we show up in the world. The better we tackle the work before us, the more useful we are. The more useful we are the more our agenda for security, power, fulfilment and harmony is met. Most texts about excellence are concerned with the issue of people, production and profits
I argue that when it comes to excellence there’s a bigger concern than people, production and profits. That concern is gratitude to something infinitely wiser than we are!
Gratitude should be superordinate to everything. And, excellence is the currency of gratitude which is due to our Creator who allows us to play here for a little while.
This story that we’re enjoying now was written solely to enchant us and to give us an opportunity to express the divine in us.
In my opinion, the real question is how are we going to recompense our creator for allowing us to experience the awesomeness that is our lives?
There are only two possible ways we can present ourselves to our creator one day:
F$*k You
Thank You.
If it’s a f$*k you it’ll mean that we treated this life as an arbitrary, throwaway thing that has no meaning. At best, this attitude justifies us embracing the mediocrity that is the dominant Zeitgeist in today’s world. At worst, it turns us into selfish predators concerned only with the issues of survival.
If it’s a thank-you, then it means that we treated this life as something wonderful, adventurous and treasured. It means that we strove to break the shackles of mediocrity, ingratitude and self-interest to become the most excellent version of ourselves.
There’ll come a day when you and I will be ferried by Charon over the River Styx to meet our creator.
What will our coin be? How will we show our gratitude for this brief interlude that is our life before our continuation date? Will our best work be a dung heap of mediocrity, misery and malice? Or will we present as a piece of excellence, a work of art and the greatest version of ourselves?
If you missed out on the last Salon, We’re walking each other home. Check it out here.
Let’s Do This!
Racing the Grim Reaper
In Sparta
The Dan Sullivan Question Redux
Rise and Kill First
Happy Birthday, Bruckner
When Does Science Become Spirituality?
Never mind …
Dear Apostrophe (a love letter)
Racing the Grim Reaper
“We’re all just walking each other home” – Ram Dass
You know that I write legacy stories, don’t you?
It’s all rather wonderful because I get to hear stories by people who are infinitely more interesting than me, and they’ve packed more experiences into their pinkies than I’ve done in a lifetime.
It’s also all rather sad. Most of the people I write stories for (or about) are over 70. I typically get hired by their children who want to capture a life and want to share memories with their children.
It occurred to me that by the time I’m in the picture, it’s a race to get the story out before the Grim Reaper walks them home.
Sometimes I get to them before they’re walked home. Sometimes I don’t. Three weeks ago I was on a Zoom call to Australia with an enigmatic, eccentric, interesting and razor-sharp intellect. He wanted to tell his story, and he wanted me to help him write it. Today, I got a text from his sister-in-law to say that he died yesterday. He was 75.
The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation, and go to their grave with the song still in them. Henry David Thoreau (Walden).
I’m not sure if there’s a lesson here. If there were one, for me it would be that I shouldn’t waste another minute and that I should write my story soon. I’m, after all, racing against the Grim Reaper and losing.
It’s too late for me, but may not be too late for you: go and sit with your parents and grandparents. See them. Hear them. Listen to them and transcribe their story on your heart. They did, after all, write you into their story so that you can write your own magnificent story. They sacrificed for you and love you more than you’ll ever fathom. Go now … love them back.
If it is too late for you, like me; author your story to bear testament to those that wrote you into the world, and through your words, deeds and actions, let them be known.
In Sparta
In most cultures men/women can choose their career … be it an architect, lawyer, doctor, policeman or whatever.
In Sparta there was no choice in the matter. As a newborn son, if you survived the scrutiny of the magistrates and were deemed fit, your only job for the rest of your life was to serve in the military.
If you were judged physically unfit, you were taken to the wild gorge at Mount Taygetos, and left for the wolves. Your mother neither wept, nor protested.
This concept of ‘you only have one job’ resonates with me. Read more.
The Dan Sullivan Question Redux
In the last Salon I said that The Dan Sullivan Question was the best sales book ever. I pointed folks to an Amazon link. It appears that there is only a hard copy of the book. I have the E-Book, but that appears to have been taken off the e-shelf quicker than books exposing the Illuminati. I have the summary version if you would like to read it. Just pop me a note and ask for The Dan Sullivan Question and I’ll be sure to send it to you.
Rise and Kill First
If you’re at all interested in how Israel came into being and the role of Mossad in its survival and thrival (I know that’s not a word), then this is the book for you.
I was in Teheran in 2011when Mossad assassinated an Iranian scientist on his way to work. Not a great time for a westerner to be there, I’ll tell you that much. But, I’m here now and that’s a story for another time.
Interesting fact. Since World War II, Israel has assassinated more people than any other country in the Western world. During the presidency of George W. Bush, the USA carried out around 48 targeted killing operations. Under the presidency of Barack Obama, 353 such attacks were carried out.
Happy Birthday, Bruckner
This is my brother, Bruckner. He turned 69 on 5 October. I’m going to visit more!
When Does Science Become Spirituality?
Now, here’s a thing! When do science and spirituality meet, or interface? When does science become spirituality?
Way back in my hippie era, where everyone was a peace-master and wearer of baggy, multi-coloured clothing, protesting on the steps of the UCT Campus Hall or St. Georges Cathedral and listening endlessly to ‘Hair’, was de-rigueur – I read a book by Fridjof Capra called ‘The Tao of Physics’ that explored the possibility of science meeting spirituality. Capra was a nuclear physicist who researched theoretical high energy physics, and spoke about his epiphany in digging deeper and deeper into atomic physics – to quarks and quasars – and realizing that ultimately what was on the ‘other side’ was spirituality the “direct, non-intellectual experience of reality”. Radical stuff in those days!
My question to you all – is this – “Have we come any closer to a deeper understanding of this, yet – some 45 years later?”
Another influential language tip from the hypnotist, Max Kaan. Never mind …
This is a great pattern interrupt. Regardless of where the conversation is going, when you say “never mind”, you are able to direct the conversation back to where you want it to be. “Never mind, that the price is competitive, never mind, the two-year guarantee, it’s our same day repair service that wins hands down.”
Dear Apostrophe (A Love Letter)
The apostrophe and I are great friends. by Tiffany Markman. She’s not over-sensitive (unlike the semi-colon); she’s just a simple creature with simple needs – and two key contributions to the English language.
We began our collaboration some 30 years ago. In those days, she’d regularly forgive my misuse of her good nature. Then we became allies. And now, as the rest of the world continues to abuse her, I have crafted a token of my love, understanding and support. Want to see it?
If you think someone else will enjoy this work, please forward it to them.
“We’re all just walking each other home” – Ram Dass
If you’re getting this email it’s because I’ve chosen you to be in this Salon (a gathering of people held by an inspiring host so that they can amuse one another and increase their knowledge through conversation).
This Salon is not for the incurious, the timid and the closed-minded. It’s for the curious, the brave, the intelligent, the eccentric and the interesting, like you.
I believe that we can amuse and engage each other. Because this text is one way (me talking to you), I’ve created a LinkedIn Salon Group where we can all enchant one another, share our ideas to increase our knowledge and stimulate our intellect. Join it now so that we can get started.
Because of my eclectic and eccentric view of the world, the topics I choose will run to practical philosophy, marketing, sales, professional speaking, writing, books, art, courtesy and, of course, unleashing your epic story.
There’ll be something here to ignite your brain, rattle your cage or help you become secure, powerful and fulfilled. In a nutshell, it’s figuring out how to navigate this human journey elegantly and eloquently.
If you missed out on the last Salon, Pick a Lane. Check it out here.
Are you ready to do this?
1. Somebody Training 2. “Because” Vs. “And” 3. WeSPEAK Free For Life 4. Charge Like A Grown-up 1 5. Charge Like A Grown-up 2 6. Make Pro Videos
7. The Best Damn Copywriter In The Universe 8. Systemic Racism 9. Laughing Squid 10. The Best Sales Book On The Planet 11. Influence With Words (By) 12. LinkedIn Profile Writing Workshop 13. Sponsors
The late philosopher and spiritual guide, Ram Dass said that we’re taught to be somebody. I’ll make youbelieve that you’re somebody if you make me believe that I’m somebody. He thought that the game of life isn’t
about becoming somebody, but about becoming nobody. I like this notion (watch theatrical trailer). It fits in with one of the Sufi constructs of, “I disappear so that you can appear.”
I think it’s true to say that none of us want to die a nobody. We all want to make a difference, we want to stand out, we want to be seen as important, and we want to be significant.
Find out more about significance and why at best, it’s an exercise in futility, and at worst, dangerous.
If you’re a speaker looking to be found by bookers, and a booker looking for speakers, the WeSPEAK App is for you.
At the touch of a button you can view any profile, check availability, watch show reel videos/images and book a speaker.
If you’re a speaker, register on Google Play (Android) or App Store (IOS) and if you’re a booker, download it and find the right fit speaker for your event.
One of the weakest parts of my business strategy is charging like a grown-up. I give friends and family rates to everyone, and have probably lost obscene amounts of money as a consequence.
I’m getting better at it as a result of researching and co-authoring a book called, Charge Like A Grown-Up with executive transitions coach, Briony Liber.
I’m fascinated at the issues that reveal themselves in my pricing strategy: abandonment, worthiness, imposter syndrome, wanting to be liked, inadequacy and rejection, amongst others.
I’m excited to see what we are co-creating and am sure that it will help other entrepreneurs who also struggle and fail to charge what they’re really worth. If you want to be first in the queue to know about the book’s release date, get yourself on the guest list now.
Talking about charging like a grown-up! Neuroscience expert and author, Timothy Maurice Webster bought my book on Amazon the other day and asked me why I only charge $3.44?
It’s a reasonably sized book at 62 000 words and 260 pages.
I couldn’t exactly go all Freud on him and talk about my mother issues. So I asked, “What would a grown up charge?”
“This is a life changing masterpiece. At times an affirmation and at others mind bending ideas to strengthen and stretchthe reader to be their best version. Thank you, Jacques! “ – LeighJoy
You know I’m an AppSumo junkie (well, if you didn’t, now you do). I’m the worst with videos and always end up looking like a mouth-breathing, banjo-playing hill billy (not an easy look to pull off, I tell you). I can’t remember what I did five minutes ago, never mind trying to remember a two-minute script … not going to happen.
This App may be the answer to my mouth breathing and shifty eye problems. It’s called BIGVU. Get video editing, automatic captions, music, and green screen replacement, plus a teleprompter App for Android and iOS. It may be helpful to you too.
Good grief, the angels weep … I watched the 13th, a Netflix documentary on systemic racism in the USA. Its premise is how the Thirteenth Amendment (abolishment of slavery and servitude) was perverted to carry on enslaving those that it freed.
As a consequence, the USA with five percent of the world’s population, has 25 percent of the world’s prisons with more than 2-million people being incarcerated (the majority being African American males). Let me not give away more.
Watch it! It’s harrowing, horrific and dehumanising. You won’t be able to unsee it, and you’ll never be able to look at things the same again and say, “I didn’t know.”
This is such an eclectic, interesting and left field website about art, culture and technology. Laughing Squid is actually a WordPress hosting company. It’s interesting how they drive traffic to their website through curating content.
Have a look and learn from them. It might be something you can do too.
I’ve read a lot of sales improvement books. Dan Sullivan’s is the easiest and most effective, in my opinion.
If you’re struggling and failing at sales, I’d recommend you look at this book.
The Question. “If we were having this discussion three years from today, and you were looking back over those three years, what has to have happened in your life, both personally and professionally, for you to feel happy with your progress?”
It’s an easy 88-page read. The power lies in his DOS questioning technique. Once you crack this, proposal writing will be easy, discovery calls will be delightful and your sales director will be smiling. Find it on Goodreads. By the way, if you’re not connected to me on Goodreads, reach out and connect now.
The famous hypnotist, Max Kaan shared the following technique with me (just after he sold me his car).
A word like “By …” is masterful in its ambiguity and effectively persuades one to buy. It has several meanings. By, buy, bye are all pronounced the same, aren’t they?
By (buy) now, I’m certain you believe the price is right.
By and by (buy and buy) you won’t get a better deal than this.
The company stands by (buy) our products and services.
By now you should see the benefits of using “by”, shouldn’t you? It’s a goodbye from me and a good buy for you.
If your LinkedIn profile is like the love-child of Deliverance, Spock and Mr. Bean: a Chernobyl accident, sterile and a little sad, you need to register for my profile writing workshop.
Now that I’m learning to charge like a grown up, the workshop is so expensive that your eyes will bleed.
And, I think you’ll find it worth it, if you want to start turning not only your LinkedIn profile, but your other marketing assets into lead generating and sales-closing machines. Find out more and register here.
13. Curating a piece of work like this takes time and I couldn’t do it without my generous sponsors.
Thank you, Phillip de Wet for sponsoring this week’s master work. If you enjoyed this piece of text, why not share a virtual coffee with me so that I can share a real one in 2021 with my friends, Richard, Lelaine and Diego in England and Italy.
If you think someone else will enjoy this work, please forward it to them.
If this is the first time you’ve seen this Salon newsletter, go and check out the archives and subscribe if you would like to receive more of them.You’re the job!!
What’s it now? 150 days in one form of lockdown or another? I don’t know about you, but I’ve found it an awful experience generally. I realised that I’m tactile and miss face-to-face human connection (hugs). My soul has withered without that connection.
I’ve now become a bloody cat person and have befriended one of the cats in the house called Spike. I pet it, I play with it and I speak to it all the time (like the Chuck Nolan character in Castaway talking to Wilson).
It’s only a matter of time before I wear check pyjamas, a gown and fluffy slippers and down my sleeping tablets with hot cocoa. Right now I’m still kinda Hemingway about it and down my tablets with whiskey.
Pick a Lane
I was what you’d call a dipper. I’d dip my toe into spiritual, philosophical, relationship and work waters.
I’ve been a plumber’s mate, a short-order cook, a soldier, a lighter salesman, a jewellery salesman, a host at a club (and almost a fluffer), an advertising executive, a crisis manager, a fundraiser, a public relations officer, a professional speaker, an editor, a proofreader and finally, a writer.
I’d get a whisper of the essence of the thing, but never the full story. I’d know just enough about a subject to be dangerously ignorant but not enough to actually contribute to this human existence meaningfully.
One thing I knew was that I was ignorant bordering on fraudulent. Thus, I’d keep my mouth shut and listen to others who were more versed and erudite on the subject at hand.
Over time, I realised that most of us are dippers and that we imposter our way through this human existence.
We’re always looking for that ‘next best thing’ to help us live a fulfilled, secure, powerful and harmonious lives.
I even went so far as to call myself a flâneur (a man who saunters around observing society). In my case it was sauntering around observing religions, spirituality and philosophies.
In this endeavour I always felt more like a spectator than a participant. And because I never had skin in the game, it was easy for me to give my subjective and often pompous opinion on the Jehovah’s Witnesses, the Jews, the Catholics, the Christians, the Buddhists and the Muslims, amongst others.
It came clear to me that pretty much all religions and philosophies have altruistic goals. They teach us to be courteous, deliberate and grateful human beings for the most part.
They give us a a system for living an exceptional life.
It occurred to me that I should pick a lane and rather become a master in something than a flighty Jack of all trades.
Thus, I’ve picked a lane and decided to become masterful at this one job. I think I’m starting to realise that I’m the job.
The rest is all a bit of a sideshow, really. You and I are the point of this whole endeavour and this play that we’re in has been written to enchant and amaze us. I hope I can make this job count and become a masterwork.
Let me write your profile
Speaking of sideshows … I’ve been getting more requests to do LinkedIn profiles. It’s an awful lot of fun, I have to say. I’ve done one for Phillip de Wet, a seasoned short term business insurance advisor and Yoke van Dam a professional speaker.
Learn how to write your own profile
DINEO Pact has asked me to present a course on LinkedIn profile writing on 26 September in White River. If you’re in that neck of the woods, join us. Even if you’re not, it’s going to be live streamed so you can still join us. Find out how to enrol here.
I think this video works well
Check out my one-minute video that was crafted for me about my bio writing. I’ve been told that video is one of the most effective marketing tools around. Let’s see.
Hook up with these two
By now you know I have a man crush on Carlos Castaneda. Check out my top 10 Castaneda quotes. They really are helpful in navigating this human endeavour. And, of course, you need to check out Ryan Holiday’s 10 books that’ll blow your mind.
My best to you,
Jacques
Thanks to Phillip de Wet for sponsoring this week’s newsletter. Let Phillip look at your current short-term business insurance portfolio to see if he can work out something that’s more advantageous to you.
If you think someone else will enjoy this newsletter, please forward it to them.
If this is the first time you have seen this newsletter, go and check out the archives and subscribe.
I think it would be true to say that none of us wants to die a nobody. We want those around our grave to remember the contribution we made whilst we played in this realm.
We want to make a difference.
We want to stand out.
We want to be seen as important.
We want significance.
Look at me. See me. Love me.
To be blunt, I believe that striving for significance is a futile ego-stoking exercise. Isn’t this what the ego wants … for others to tell us how amazing we are?
Our egos want our names on libraries and on streets. Our egos want us to be known as motivational speakers who change the world. Our egos want the medals, the mentions and the citations. We want the chemical high that comes from being recognised and praised. But, it’s hardly likely that we’ll be remembered for long, no matter how planet-changing our contribution was.
When our dust is mixed with those of the dinosaurs and everything else that came before that and the sun fries this planet in say, another 5-billion years or so, who’ll care about our so-called significance?
We Couldn’t Remember When Our Mom Died
Last year my sister and I were trying to remember when my mother died. I got the day and month right and she was a day off. Neither of us could remember the year (Alicea it’s 23 August 2009 if you’re interested). How’s this possible? How can I not remember the death of a woman who protected me for 46 years and loved me until her dying breath? She was my rock, my friend, my confidant and my mother.
Maybe I’m just a bad son. Or maybe significance is an illusion.
Who Was?
Indulge me and take this test to see how well you know the people whose past deeds impact on our lives today.
(1) Who was Beyers Naudé? (2) When did Nelson Mandela die? (3) When was Martin Luther King assassinated? (4) Which Greek king was credited with saving the democracy that you and I so cherish? (5) Who invented television? (6) Who invented the stove? (7) Who invented the fridge? (8) When was the bible compiled and by whom? (9) Who founded the first institution of higher learning (university) in the western world? (10) Who invented the Internet?
I’m sure you get it. These people played a significant role in the way you and I live our lives today, yet I had to go to Google to find the correct answers. I’ve made it easy for you – the answers are at the end of this article.
Look at me. See me. Love me
If you and I can’t even remember facts about our nearest and dearest and the thousands who impacted us, what chance have we got of being remembered? What chance have we got of actually being significant. I say “zero” because significance really is a myth.
Never mind that it’s futile to strive for significance, but it’s also a dangerous exercise when it comes to our mental health. Striving to be significant makes us weak and powerless. If we base our significance on being recognised by others then surely they have the power to bestow or withhold that significance from us? We have then yielded our power to another.
And, when we don’t get what we want – in this case significance – we act up and act out. We become spiteful, distrustful, distasteful, angry, violent, inelegant and bitter. We play the victim because we are defined by what others think of us.
I don’t think this is a cool way to live at all, do you?
What’s the Answer?
So, what’s the answer? I would never be so arrogant as to presume I know the answer. However, I’ve been working through a lot of spiritual texts recently and have been blessed to have mentors in this arena. So, for me the mists of ignorance are (very) slowly parting to reveal a semblance of an answer.
It’s becoming clearer to me that every one of us is heading for a cataclysmic event. No matter how rich or poor we are, no matter our culture, creed or race, this event is so final that it makes me shiver with dread. I’m hoping that the work I’m doing on myself now will let me face it with submission and good grace. This event makes of us all brothers and sisters. It’s the great equaliser. This event is our death.
So, if death is the final destination, then the trick is to get there as eloquently and elegantly as possible. For me at least, striving for significance is an inelegant solution. My answer is simple; love. Love the moment you’ve been given right now to do something masterful.
Not for the sake of significance. but just because it makes your heart sing. Love the person you’re with right now (be it your significant other, your boss, an employee, a beggar or child).
Don’t do it because you want something from that person, but because you want to set them up to succeed. Do your work for the work’s sake … not for gain or favour.
Do the work because you’re an artist creating something magnificent. Work on yourself because that’s where your real battles are. They’re certainly not in the world. Doing inner work gives you control and makes you powerful.
And, the more you do the work, the more you’ll realise that you are insignificant in the grand scale of this creation. And, you’ll be ok with that because you’ll be so awe-struck and grateful that you get to play in this magnificence for a little while longer.
And, when you get called home you’ll submit to it with grace because you’ll know that you played your part with elegance and eloquence. And, that’ll enough for you and for your Rab.
Answers
Theologan and anti-apartheid activist
December 5, 2013
April 4, 1968
King Leonidas
Vladimir Kosma Zworykin
Benjamin Franklin
Oliver Evans
AD 325 by The Council of Nicaea led by Constantine
It took my mom just over 12 years before she finally left her abusive marriage.
Her harrowing ordeal still affects me today. When I’m prepared to go a bit deeper and delve into the hidden and well-protected part of my psyche where the demons live, there’s always two questions that come up. “Couldn’t I do more to protect her?” “Why did it take so long for her to leave?”
I can never answer the first question without deep agitation but I can certainly take a stab at the second one.
Mom must have realised pretty soon into the marriage that she had walked into a nightmare of pain and terror. So, why didn’t she leave immediately, two years later or even seven years after?
Possibly she stayed for me and my two siblings so that we could have some semblance of a family?
Maybe she stayed because divorce was taboo (ish) in those days (1965 onwards) and she didn’t want to disappoint her strongly Calvinist parents?
Could it be that she stayed because it was more difficult for women to get serious work in those days and she was beholden to her spouse’s salary? Can you believe that in those days a woman couldn’t go into many (if any) contracts without her husband’s signature. Can you imagine?
Near the end, she was holding down three jobs including her cashier job at Kentucky Fried Chicken (now, KFC) to keep the disastrous enterprise afloat. So, no, it couldn’t be because she was afraid to stand on her own two feet.
Or could it be pride and not behaving appropriately to the situation? I may sound uncharitable and insensitive. And, since my mom has passed on, she can’t even defend herself. And, every woman in my mom’s situation right now would probably want to hang me from the nearest tree for suggesting something so preposterous.
It was the harrowing New Zealand movie Once Were Warriors that put this notion into my head. Here’s the skinny. The protagonist Beth runs away and marries a hard-drinking brawler called Jake the Mus … totally against the wishes of her noble Maori family. They thought that he wasn’t good enough for her because he came from a slave bloodline. She vows never to go back to her family.
18 years later she’s living in squalid conditions with a brood of five children. Jake has lost his job Her eldest son has joined a gang and the second-eldest is in reform school. Jake who is nearly always in a drunken rage, often rabidly beats Beth. Despite this her pride would never allow her to leave Jake because to do so would be to admit that her family was right and she was wrong.
Things come to a head when their adolescent daughter, Grace is raped by a friend of her father at a party at the house. Grace hangs herself as a result.
Beth’s world is shattered. She decides to leave Jake and in the final scene says (and this is the entire point of this text):
“I’ve found something better Jake and I’m going to make damn sure my kids have it all. From now on I make the decisions for my family. You’ve got nothing I want … Our people once were warriors. And, unlike you Jake, they are people with pride, people with spirit. If my spirit can survive with you for 18 years, then I can survive anything. Maybe you taught me that.”
She takes her four remaining children and goes back to her family. She finally did what was right for her children.
“So, how does Beth’s situation relate to your mother?” you may ask. My mom divorced my biological father when I was just over a year old after the stupid man had an affair.
I was privy to some letters he wrote her begging her to come back to him. I think she’d have waited until hell freezes over before going back to him. Even though she was living under the most severe circumstances, her pride would never allow her to admit to him that she’d made a mistake (not in leaving him of course, but in staying with my stepfather).
So, what was the “Grace” moment that finally made my mother say “no more” and leave her second marriage? I can guess, but I can’t say for sure. All I know is that she eventually found the strength to leave with us, her three little children. She finally said, “You’ve got nothing that I want …”, and freed herself and us. For that, I’ll be forever grateful.
“What’s lacklustre about Passengers isn’t just that the movie is short on surprise, but that it’s like a castaway love story set in the world’s largest, emptiest shopping mall in space.”
When I read this critique, I almost didn’t watch the movie. But, I’m so glad I decided to watch it.
The movie is about the starship Avalon transporting 5000 passengers (in induced hibernation) from earth through space to their new home, Homestead ll.
It’ll be 120 years before they arrive at Homestead ll. Avalon malfunctions after flying into an asteroid field and one of the passengers, Jim Preston (a mechanical engineer) is woken up 30 years into the journey; 90 years too soon.
He discovers that he’s totally alone.
He’s devastated, depressed and suicidal.
On the upside, his every whim is catered for – he has luxury, food, entertainment and the most spectacular view of the cosmos.
His dilemma raised a number of uncomfortable issues for me.
Imagine discovering that you are devastatingly alone. How would you feel? I’d probably be gutted and would, like Jim, consider taking my life. Of course, being a hopeful creature, I’d try and find another living soul … anybody to connect to.
After a year Jim awakens the beautiful Aurora from her hibernation pod. His loneliness is so much so that he is prepared to condemn Aurora to death by waking her just so that he could have company.
Eventually, they fall in love. Of course, she later finds out that he woke her on purpose and that her hibernation pod didn’t malfunction as he led her to believe.
She’s shattered, disillusioned and depressed. She hates Jim for ‘murdering’ her.
Long story, short. The ship starts malfunctioning and it’s up to Jim and Aurora to save it and the 5000 passengers along with it.
They do it.
Yay.
Jim figures out a way to put Aurora back in hibernation so that she can make the rest of the journey and get to Homestead ll. She chooses to stay and spend what’s left of her life with Jim.
When the passengers and crew finally wake up, there’s a ‘Garden of Eden’ on the central deck and a story of the miracle that happened.
What I took from this story
No amount of wealth, luxury and freedom can make you happy if there’s nobody to share it with.
I think that our deepest need is for connection. It’s what makes us tick. Without connection, we die. That’s probably why solitary confinement in prison is a harsher punishment than death.
We all have destinations we want to go to. We all have dreams. We all have plans. But as the Scottish poet, Robert Burns said, “The best laid plans of men and mice oft go awry.” The thing is that we don’t have any idea as to why our journeys take ‘wrong turns’.
Often, what appears to be a disaster is actually a blessing. If Jim and Aurora were in blissful hibernation, the ship would have exploded, killing all 5000 passengers and them along with it. So, they were right where they were supposed to be.
When I think back on my life, every ‘good’ and ‘bad’ event has shaped me into the human I am today and will become. I’m exactly where I’m meant to be. And, the exciting thing is that I don’t know what plans there are still for me before I give this journey up (with grace hopefully).
Life is what happens to you and me while we’re making other plans. Jim and Aurora accepted their situation and made a beautiful life. We tend to look for happiness elsewhere when it’s actually right in front of us. I think life is as simple as choosing to be happy in every situation.
“We either make ourselves miserable or we make ourselves happy. The amount of work is the same.”
Carlos Castandeda
The random choices we make (and people we meet) do have a significant impact on our lives. We’re where we are because of this randomness and not because of any design or skill on our parts. In Jim’s case, he made a decision to pursue a career in mechanical engineering. Maybe his parents forced him to? If he’d made another choice … say, being an artist, things would have turned out differently for him and the 5000 other passengers.
The same is true for you and me – the so-called choices we make, or are forced to make, sets us up for things to come. They work out to our advantage in the end.
We get lost along the way to our destinations. And, that’s ok. The side roads and detours are where life happens and where our purpose is forged. We don’t know who we’ll impact along the journey or who’ll impact us.
Get lost, but don’t lose the lesson or lose who you are.
“You can’t get hung up on where you’d rather be that you forget to make the most of where you are,” Aurora.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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)
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.
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.
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.
