We have time

Just got the news that Octavian Paler, a Romanian thinker who got my respect (although I didn’t always agree with what he said) passed away… I always wanted to translate one of his poems. Never had the time...

We have time
by Octavian Paler

We have time for everything.

To sleep, to run from here to there,
to regret our mistakes and to mistake again,
to judge others and to forgive ourselves,
we have time to read and to write,
to check again what we wrote, to regret what we wrote,
we have time to plan projects and to forget about them,
we have time to create our own illusions and to sift through their ashes later on.

We have time for ambitions and illnesses,
to blame the destiny and the details,
we have time to watch the clouds, advertisements and
a random accident,
we have time to chase our questions away,
to postpone the answers,
we have time to shatter a dream
and reinvent it,
we have time to make friends, lose them,
we have time to learn our lessons and soon after to forget them,
we have time to receive presents and to not understand them.

We have time for everything.

We just don’t have time for a bit of tenderness.
When we are about to get to that, we die.

I have learned some things in life which I will share with you!

I have learned that you cannot make someone
love you.
All you can do is to be a loved person.
Everything else… depends on the others.

I have learned that no matter of how much I care,
Others might not care at all.

I have learned that it takes years to earn someone’s trust
And only a few seconds to lose it.

I have learned that it is not WHAT you have in life that matters,
but WHO you have in your life.

I have learned that charm is useful and will help you
For about 15 minutes,
Afterwards, however, you would better have something to say.

I have learned that you should never compare yourself
to what others can do better than you,
but to what you can do yourself.

I have learned that it is not what happens to people that matters,
but what I can do to help them.

I have learned that no matter how you look at it,
anything has two sides.

I have learned that you have to leave those dear to you with kind words.
It could be the last time you see them.

I have learned that you can keep going for a long time
After saying you cannot take it any longer.

I have learned that heroes are those who do what is right,
at the right time,
regardless of the consequences.

I have learned that there are people who love you
But do not know how to show it.

I have learned that when I am upset I have
the RIGHT to be upset.
But I don’t have the right to also be mean.

I have learned that the true friendship continues
to exists even when distance sets you apart
And this is also true for true love.

I have learned that, if someone doesn’t love you
the way you want them to love you,
It doesn’t mean they don’t love you with all their heart.

I have learned that regardless of how good of a friend someone is
They will hurt you now and then
And you have to forgive them for that.

I have learned that it’s not always enough to be
forgiven by others,
Sometimes you must learn to forgive yourself.

I have learned that regardless of how much pain you are in,
The world will not stop its course because of your pain.

I have learned that the past and the circumstances
could influence your personality
But YOU are responsible for what you become.

I have learned that, if two people argue, it does not mean
they do not love each other
And the fact that they never argue it doesn’t mean they are in love.

I have learned that sometimes you should consider the person first,
And not their deeds.

I have learned that two people can look at the same thing
And see something completely different.

I have learned that regardless of consequences
Those who are honest with themselves get further in life.

I have learned that our life could be changed in just a few hours
By people who don’t even know us.

I have learned that when you think there is
nothing else you can offer,
When a friend needs you, you will find the strength to help.

I have learned that writing,
Like speaking,
Can soothe your soul’s pain.

I have learned that people you care the most about
Are taken away from you far too soon…

I have learned that it is difficult to figure out
Where to set the boundaries between being nice, not hurting others,
and firmly sustaining what you believe in.

I have learned to love
So that I can be loved.

Thank you!

I’m busy, way too busy, as you know… but I had to say THANK YOU to all of you who so wonderfully offered to help these days knowing it’s an intense week!

Whether it was taking me out for lunch or dinner, having a good conversation, bringing cookies (even if you forgot I don’t like chocolate :)), getting for me a book from the library, calling to see how I am doing, and dealing with my long babbling about all I have to do or who knows what, sharing your ties with me, inviting me for a drink (and understanding I can’t really party hard) or just offering to be there for me, any time of day or night, if I get too stressed out… wow!

Some of you really took me by surprise - I guess I still have to learn to see...

And here is a picture that a friend of mine sent to all his friends, including me… I thought it describes some of you too!

Thank you for being my friends! (screwed up as you are...)

Having a life... or two?!

It’s been a while. Life got busy. Or did I just start having a life, a friend wondered?!

It made me think of the expression “to have a life”, one of those idioms that violated my logic just because they don’t have a direct correspondent in my native language: how can you question whether someone “has a life?” Everyone, alive, has one! Some might need a better one, but we all have a life. Even those people that dream about having other people’s lives, they still have a life – a shitty one maybe, but they have one. Yet, this culture that I sometimes blame for forgetting about enjoying life and obsessing too much with efficiency and effectiveness, surprisingly came up with this expression supposed to indicate the need for a life beyond breathing, eating, sleeping, and/or (especially) working. It’s true that sometimes it means just adding to the above drinking, eating more, and sleeping with whomever you get the chance, but most of the times the idea is about having a life you enjoy. For some, it means having a social life; for others, having a relationship; and for some it is basically just about…. having sex. And there is also the “get a life” version, another way of saying one should mind his or her own business, especially for those that either don’t get any sex, don’t have any relationships, or don’t have any social life: consequently, they carefully scrutinize the life of those having one, vicariously living through them (the ones that are somehow still capable of love) or expressing their frustrated (non)life by criticizing or being suspicious of everything they see (or they think they see).

I made my self-diagnosis and contentedly concluded that I have a life (of course, in various degrees for each of the above dimensions) and apprehensively realized that my friend was right in her supposition: altogether I am getting too much life these days, so much that I don’t find the time to write about it (well, except right now, when I am obviously not getting any by the above standards)! Too much is too much though, so I guess it is a good break, but where does my mentioned apprehension come from? Of course, from the same norms that I grew up with which told me that life is tough, that happiness comes with effort and that delaying gratification is the key to success. Funny (or sad) enough, studies on emotional intelligence confirm that at least the last contention is true, but that’s a topic for some other time. What amuses me these days is the extent to which some people seem to take quite a bit of interest in the life of others and the rather entertaining way they go about basically validating their own curiosities. My first thought was that they must know little about how much I value friendship if they think I would give out alleged secrets of my friends. I also thought they must not realize how much I value privacy to discuss very personal matters of anyone, for that matter! Not to mention that I sometimes find the type of information they go after completely irrelevant altogether: definitely not the best way to define people, in my books. But after thinking about it, I understood they asked because they know I am also the one who would be honest with them, regardless of what the question is. I appreciate that, so in the name of honesty, I need to warn you that you are wasting such questions on me, because you will not find out from me anything more than you already know. My suggestion is that instead of trying to clarify such mysteries, better enjoy the idiosyncrasies of those you encounter and allow your idiosyncrasies be, because they are yours and repressing them will only make you find out less about you, and that is what I believe people should be focusing on. Innocent inappropriate personal questions add spice to life, and are sometimes a good way to establish or develop intimacy. I am certainly NOT advocating for suppressing them under the cover of political correctness. At the same time, I have to subscribe to the “get a life” advice, as patronizing as it might sound, not because I take pleasure in being condescending, but because it is the best advice I got myself, luckily, long time ago. That’s how I got a life in which I am more interested in understanding the uniqueness of each person rather than trying to fit them in a social category: labeling and categorization help our cognitive functioning but equally hinder the ability to get to know those we label and categorize. I got a life where I try to learn about myself as much as I can, in various ways that some might agree with, some might not - big deal! And a life in which I enjoy the company of others in any way that matches their level of comfortable disclosure, inviting those I value most for deeper interaction but allowing them to resist it if they feel so, justified or not (who’s to say?).

I met quite a few people that I certainly like “having a life” with – of course, different dimensions of the above definition apply selectively to each of them. In some cases, I would happily add some new dimensions to the life we have in common, but until they decide that that would be a good idea, I can only patiently wait, enjoying their timid attempts to closeness and respecting the occasional temporary estrangements they voluntarily or involuntarily display. I was discussing the other day such inconsistencies with a friend of mine who complained about my own unpredictability and I am still not sure I convinced her that it has nothing to do with how much I care about her, but rather with my need to attend to different friends and, why not admit, my preference for independence. She was right that I prioritize some people over others – yes, I do have my own weaknesses for certain people who just trigger in me some unexplained and illogical affection, but did I ever claim to be perfectly rational and always well-behaved? There is your answer. And yes, I know I need to learn to be a bit more careful with those I really want to keep in my life, point taken!

And since I am on the topic of “having a life”, I should also mention my experience with having a second one. I discovered the virtual world Second Life when I was asked to give my “expert” (go figure!) opinion on it for a radio program. I believe in experiencing before criticizing or making any comments on any aspect of life, so I’ve created my alter ego in the cyber-world and became a “real” Second Life resident (yes, that's me, there - handsome, huh?!). I was worried that this might turn into an addictive tool to support my tendency for procrastination and a veritable time-waster, which is exactly what I don’t need these days. However, beyond the excitement I get with anything new and some interesting insights about human nature that I could have probably gotten in the real world as well, I didn’t feel the need to return to my second life for more than just a couple of times. My conclusion for the radio report was, just like with most things in life, that it really depends what you do with it: it could be another way to learn, it could be a waste of time, or it could be a wonderful chance to develop split personality.

Before I got the chance to blog my second life experience, a well-read friend of mine pointed me towards Jenny Diski’s much better written story than what I could produce. So I will leave it at that, except of saying that I am really impressed with the Second Life as a creative work (hats off to you programmers), and a quick note on what the smart lady, being a lady, did not experience or talk about: the fact that in the Second Life if you want a penis, you need to buy one! They let you choose the body you dream of and shape it however you want, but for some reasons having a penis is a premium feature that costs money. Don’t ask me (and feel free to psychoanalyze) why having to pay for my own penis got me less excited about that world, in spite of the fancy features that you can opt for (yep, you read correctly, they have many options)… but what would I do with it anyway? Sex with my computer is definitely not my way of enjoying that part of life.

For that reasons and many others that should be now self-evident, as much as I liked the illusion of flying (except when I hit my head against ceilings or invisible walls protecting restricted areas, which frustrated me even in a fake world), I have decided to stick to my first life.

Instead of getting a second life, I think it is better to keep living my first one as if I was in a virtual world where (almost) anything is possible and where I can afford to be who I am without worrying too much about what others think about me.

“Having a life” does not mean getting a fake one (and warning, fake does not necessarily mean it has to be online!)… “having a life” means interacting, experiencing and learning. I can do all these things in this first life, and until I get really bored with it, I have no need for a second one. It might not be perfect, but at least it came with a free penis!

When life gives you lemons, make lemonade!

… or, if you’re in Iowa, where lemons ain’t the issue, “when life gives you plenty of snowfields (and not much else), go cross-country skiing”. That’s what I did this last wintry Sunday.

A friend of mine who seems to have developed an addiction to cross-country skiing told me about it a couple of days ago and just like with almost everything else, I was, of course, ready to try it. It sounded cool! But then that negative 1 F that was supposed to feel like -23 F (which is something like below -30 C) completely made me forget about any outdoor activity. Just walking that morning from home to my unofficial office, the Java House, got me crying against the stinging wind while my entire body acknowledged unmistakably the meaning of the “wind chill” factor. The five minutes walk (that’s all it takes) felt like an expedition to Antarctica, and I really wished I had removable ears so that I could put them in the pocket temporarily, just like I did with my frozen glasses. I realized later that it was not the frozen glasses that prevented me from seeing, it was the instantly iced tears – but who cared what’s icing where, I was only thinking about the hot coffee I was going to get as soon as I was going to make it there.

The tall cup of Mexican Altura got my brain back into functioning, and by lunch time, as I was thinking I’m not eager to go outside again, my friend called to ask me if I’m up for my first cross-country skiing experience. I thought he’s kidding. He was not. I hesitated a bit, came up with some excuses, but five minutes later I was out the door running home to get ready for the challenge.

They say cross-country skiing is the best aerobic fitness activity. Well, it must be, because as soon as I got back to my warm room I felt just like after drinking a few too many glasses of steaming mulled red wine (which I was actually longing for at the end of our little adventure): a cozy sensation of slow thinking and lazy moves that could have put me to sleep immediately… I took instead one of my typical suspiciously long showers and somehow succeeded to get myself back out in the cold, because I have committed to one of those get-togethers with a friend – something I enjoy too much to be able to skip. Still no mulled wine, but the spices of the cinnamon cardamom tea did the trick and what was supposed to be a very cold and unfriendly Sunday ended up being a very warm, surprisingly pleasant one. In other words, perfect lemonade, if we stick to the lemon’s story.

Try it one day. It will be fun – the cross-country skiing I mean. With regard to the lemons, well, it’s good advice to make lemonade when you have them. But today I was thinking: how much lemonade one can drink? What if I’m tired of it? Well, there are other things you can do with lemons - among them, you can squeeze them hard to have the juice pop into someone’s eyes, just like my landlady did yesterday when I complained about the failing internet connection. But I don’t recommend this one, some of that acid juice might end up in your eyes as well, and it’s no fun. (By the way, I’m writing this from home, we have a new router, so don’t think my landlady is not a nice lady. We eventually made lemonade. I just had to add some sugar, that's all.)

Anyway, if you only get lemons or just way too many of them, you might be in some citrus country: look at a map, one that’s appropriate for your world, figure out where sweet cherries grow, and make a move. Or keep making grimaces and pulling all sorts of faces, if that suits you…

That being said, I have to take care of some of my lemons right now – hopefully I can turn them into some sort of lemon tea, because it’s still cold in Iowa… maybe another session of cross-country skiing is in order? Sure, but I’m still thinking I should go to Puerto Rico for the upcoming spring break...

We should make some time...

“A new way of existence? Maybe, but that’s a horrible thought” – shook her head a new friend of mine in a well-crafted response to my first blah-blogging I posted the other day. I was touched by her compelling case that people need to interact instead of competing for attention and friendship on the world wide web (talk about preaching to the choir!). Her epistle was so articulated that I really thought it should be posted…yeah… something like a blog, you know… [sic!].

Anyway, the competition for attention and friendship happens on and off the internet stage and I am not sure it’s necessarily something bad. “Flirting is fun”, casually commented another friend of mine in one of our spur-of-the-moment chats and I realized he couldn’t be more right: whether we take it in its classical meaning (which I guess contains some sexual, or at least some romantic substance), or in a more general, social sense, flirting is a form of human interaction. And I am certainly guilty of it, whether I am doing it consciously or not. You are too. And you like it too. Except when high expectations are set, and the response is not the one you wanted. That’s when we blame the flirting we just enjoyed and suddenly innocent games become broken contracts and failed promises. We forget that no one signed any contract, and no one made any promise. But we like certainties, forgetting that they also mean less freedom. I have learned and I am still learning to enjoy my freedom, and the lack of certainties. I have learned and I am still learning to take life minute by minute, and to enjoy it. I think I have also learned to love those who flirt with me, even if they do it with no promise, and I’ve learned to not ask them to sign the contract that I still tend to sign before they even ask me to. Why not stop drafting those contracts? Why not stop squinting to the fine print in an effort to discover every possible catch in there, and instead look the person in the eyes and see the "fine print" beyond them? And why not take a little risk and tell them what we saw, as wrong as we might be about it?

Somebody might have just taken a first step in doing that, with me.

This morning I went to school and checked, as always, my mailbox: the usual junk, lists with new publications that are supposed to make my teaching insightful (they think) but in fact with the potential of making it more boring (I think); a new issue of a journal that I am probably going to skim frustrated that I don’t have time to read everything but also thinking that time limit is a blessing (not all that stuff is worth reading); another letter tickling my ego by inviting me to apply for an academic job (professional flirt, if you want, so it felt good); and… a card. I am used to getting cards. In the US, people are very nice about giving cards to each other for any occasion, some really saying what they feel, others just contributing to a rather profitable industry. But this one was to be different. Very different! It’s squared - but I’ve seen that before. It’s artsy-modern, with no fancy pictures or design - just a simple text, printed unevenly on the cover. And before I even read that text, I rush to see what’s inside: who said what. But no one said anything. Blank. I turned it over: just the usual credits for the talented artist who created it. Turn again, nothing: just the original printed text. Did somebody drop this new, unwritten-unsigned card, by mistake, in my mailbox? Possibly. But, after reading what it said, I decided it was not a mistake.

So first you forget the rigid traditionalist notions of what is right and what is not – one of the best ways to get my attention, I’m already all eyes and ears! And then you simply say it: “I decided to tell you that I like you”. Forget the cold outside, it’s spring in my soul! I’m probably even ready to go home and groom, act pages, or whatever, but I do realize that this is just mother nature stimulated by the spring in my soul and that, in fact, all I need is to just do the little thing you ask for: make some time… Secluded beach would be perfect, but any other place would do. We could, for instance…

Wake up, Dan! All nice and sweet, but who’s “you”?

I turned the card again on all sides, checked again the folder for a note, nothing…

Hmm. I still hear in the background the little wicked devil of logic saying it could have been a mistake, but I’m already paying much more attention to the images of those that could have secretly tried to tell me something. And even if that card (received by mistake or not) was meant to tell me that someone likes me, it actually made me realize, in fact, how many people I like! I realized how lucky I am to have around people I would always want to rent a movie with, paint some pottery (or paint each other, in some cases), and… ok, what comes next is a bit x-rated the way I imagine it and it might not be appropriate for some audiences, so I’ll stop here. It’s not even important.

All I (and you) need to remember is this: perhaps we should make some time…

The new (b)logic of existence: “I blog, therefore I am”

Now everyone has one. A blog, that is.

Ok, not everyone, just yet, but it looks like we’re getting there. First time I read one it certainly sparked my interest – in a professional way. Most of my work was and is about putting people’s lives and minds under microscope – a nice way to legitimize what was, in fact, one of my natural tendencies: an intense curiosity about people. And here it is, the internet, conveniently serving as a nice comfortable Freudian couch, generating wonderful displays of personalities and lives, asking to be seen, read, or referred to… I always wondered whether the abundant “controlled” free flowing thoughts reflect accurately those who produced them or rather some self-desired identities, but... does it matter? I am pretty sure they also reveal quite well self-rejected existences (and are, in fact, catharctic acts), but I have decided that blogs are not necessarily the diaries that psychotherapists would successfully use to scrutinize the hidden corners of their clients hopes and fears, but rather a new form of communication, a new way of expressing, and why not, a new form of existence. I am sure Descartes would agree with me because he and all those of his sort would have certainly used the blogs, if they had them back then. Many of their works are in fact, some archaic forms of blog. Of better quality, of course, but that’s a different story. I have been though, not once, challenged to think while reading some of those spontaneous writings on the web and many times I felt the need to put my fingers on the keyboard and to let them go crazy…

But I never did - until now. I stayed away from writing a blog because I probably always was, and still am, more interested in a conversation face-to-face (or face-to-faces), coffee or wine included or not. It might be my residual Romanianness that manifests itself into a certain level of conservationism when it comes to digitalizing the human interaction. For a long time I thought that online dating is the saddest expression of the lonely modern lives and not much different than the arranged marriages that we, those who live in “advanced” societies, look at with some mix of condescendence and pity, or at best, pure cluelessness. I finally realized that just like with everything else, there is some logic to all those new manifestations of being human, which are certainly the result of a more structured and socially controlled life, yet not necessarily unnatural, superficial or desperate. They might not work for everyone, or they might work for certain people only at certain times. They are, however, an experience, and as long as one views them as such, I’m in. I just made a profile on the (in)famous Facebook, to the surprise (or even shock) of many of my friends, most of them ready to bring up a crucifix whenever I mention the word. But they are now used to my “unlikely” acts and probably wonder what is going to be my next move. I wish I knew – and that’s just a joke, because I actually like to surprise myself, too. I’ll probably say more about Facebook later, for now I’m just enjoying “becoming friends” with people I already know and communicate by mail, phone, and in person - but why not also add some PDC (if you didn’t figure it out, that’s “Public Display of Communication”). Yes, I am making up words and expressions, that’s a sign that I am becoming more of a blogger. So blog away… it is, at some extent, creative.

Speaking of which - back to the blog (see, although I beginner, I’m quite good with throwing in random thoughts, which is another parameter certifying you are a blogger). It’s not that new. After all, in 2000, when I came to the US, I was writing what one could probably call an “emaillog”, sending to all my friends and family back home my first impressions on the American life. I should post them here (I will). I am sure most of the things I wrote back then would need serious editing to fit my perceptions now, and that’s one of the wonderful pitfalls of a blog: what you write now might not fit at all with the future you. I am sure many bloggers regretted, looking back, some of the things they spilled on the internet. However, it is probably more regretful when we have no record at all of how we understood the world at a certain point in life because we forget, reinterpret, and redefine our stories in a way that fits with whatever we are about in the present moment. So blog away… you can learn from it.

Last, but not least: privacy. Of course an issue. But really? Should I care that some closeted mind will profile me based on my blogged expression of interacting with the world? Sure, there is an imbalance of information, which is usually linked to an imbalance of power. But that’s only if you care about such things. My experience with privacy paranoia (just like any other paranoia) is that the less you worry about it, the less you suffer from it. It’s a trade-off, but I think obsessing on your privacy in order to maintain your freedom is like selling your soul to the devil in order to get your ticket to heaven. I have started my new year with infringing on basic privacy rules, but I had fun with it. So blog away… and enjoy it.

Enough. Blogging about blogging is kind of vicious. But Descartes would be proud of me. Or he's just turning in his grave. One of those.