ne plus ignorer

I discovered the poster below in the metro in Paris several months ago.

"Ignorer" is one of those French verbs that I have always been fond of.  Which is funny, now that I think about it, because I almost never use it.  However, I tend to pay more attention when I notice it in a text.

As you may guess, "ignorer" means "to ignore" in English.  But it is a second and less apparent meaning that always gets me: "to not know".  I used to think that stating publicly in French that you "ignored" an important matter resembled an act of defiance, but now I understand that it might also be you simply admitting that you do not know what the matter was!

Which brings us back to the poster.  The lovely thing here, I think, is that both meanings work after translation.

A student in difficulty is a child who ignores his strong points.
A student in difficulty is a child who does not know his strong points.

Now if we apply this message to our lives:

Maybe we find ourselves in certain difficult situations because do not know our gifts?
And when we do know these gifts, maybe we still find ourselves in difficult situations because we ignore them?

Here's to us always knowing our gifts and no longer ignoring them.

In other words, "ne plus ignorer".

operation handshake explained

Dear Lionel,

I am very excited about this opportunity to finally tell with you all about Operation Handshake.  You know, the thing where you noticed me walking the entire open space once a week, stopping at each person's desk to shake his hand.  It has been a year since we parted ways as colleagues and I have always appreciated your curiosity regarding the mechanics of the operation.  I even remember the state machine that you drew up on the whiteboard in the conference room during my farewell party to describe to others how the operation worked based on the little that I had revealed.  You got some things right, and those that you did not, I will attempt to clarify below.  So bear with me since I have never given this much spotlight in writing to any of my operations before.

Before proceeding, I want to take this moment to let you know how much I cherished the moments that we spent working together (well, to be more accurate, the moments that we spent at work together).  You were a great guy to bother, if not for your inviting desk decorated with Dilbert comic strips. I felt elated to practice my English with you and always admired your ability to speak the language very well.  Above all though, it was your openness, your enthusiasm, and your sense of humor that I will remember the most.  How did you do it so naturally?

Anyway, the explanation that follows is for you, buddy.  I love you man!

The inspiration

The idea for the operation was a convergence of several things.  Firstly, there was the practice of shaking hands at work.  It seemed too French to go shake the hand of each person in the team upon arriving at work in the morning.  The subject even came up occasionally in conversation, inside and outside of work.  I was quite amused by the whole thing.  I had never experienced, thought, or discussed anything of the sort while working in the U.S..  While most people in our team did not actually shake hands in the morning, the practice had already left an impression on me.  I have Joao in particular to thank for this.  He was very disciplined during his first couple of weeks at work about going to shake the hand of everyone in the room (the one that I shared with him before we moved to the open space).  I even expressed my gratitude to him in his greeting card during his farewell party.  At the time, Operation Handshake was in its infancy.

Then there was the workplace culture.  Whenever a colleague shook hands, he usually did not bother going beyond his team.  And the open space was shared by several small teams, but each person clung to his team; note that I was far from being the exception.  Outside of work requirements and random gatherings by the coffee machine, there was not much interaction among members of different teams.  It resembled the French society but on a much smaller scale, where people spent virtually the whole time with the people that they already knew.  I mean, it was great, except that there were other people too with whom we shared the open space.  I thought that things could be more interesting if we took the time to go meet colleagues that we weren't used to talking to, just to greet them or to acknowledge their presence in some sense, without the context of a project.  I also imagined that a more open workplace would help to ease inevitable tensions and to prevent false assumptions that colleagues tend to have.

Yet the primary motivation for kicking off this operation was personal.  I felt invisible at work.  Maybe I did not need to have that sentiment, being the English-speaking foreigner that could also speak French well, that was curious about French culture, that was kind of a cool guy, and whose jokes were somewhat funny.  But that was how I felt.  Beyond my efforts to always abide by some unspoken French code of conduct ("le code", in the words of my friend Mélodie), I shrunk myself and what made me different out of habit ‒ I had been doing so for years.  So I felt the need to stop making myself invisible and consequently feeling bad about myself.

Not wanting to ask everyone to look at me nor wanting to strive to gain attention, this idea came to mind.  Somehow.  No one else was doing something like it.  It seemed fitting given the combination of factors mentioned above.  I loved it, and did not want to let it die.  Such had been the fate of other similar ideas that I had conceived, and this probably because they were different from what most people did.

I wanted therefore to accept what made me different instead of rejecting it by not letting it show.  Truth be told, many of the most enjoyable moments in my life were those where I had expressed my difference.  So why try to hide it, right?  The best way that I came up with to go about things was obviously to show my difference, to make sure everyone had a chance to know about it.  I mean, if you believed that everyone kept seeing your difference and that you were enjoying being different, there would be no more reason to hide your difference from anyone, right?  Thus, I felt it necessary to target as many people as possible for the operation.

Since I had difficulty expressing my difference in the midst of certain people, I also wanted to perceive each person in the open space in the same way as any other person.  Without seeking to become friends with him, I wanted most of all to not see him as an obstacle.  So whether he was someone that I liked, or someone that I liked less, or someone that I knew hardly or not at all, I was going to go over to offer him a handshake.

Being public was also key.  Like I said, I wanted to give everyone the chance to see me doing something unusual in order to become desensitized to the feeling that everyone was looking at me.  The thought of that feeling had often prevented me from expressing myself in certain situations, and I wanted to get rid of it.

The procedure

The operation as you may remember it involved me arriving at work one morning during the week and walking the entire open space to greet each person by shaking hands with him until I sat down at my desk.  It was that simple.

The details

But it was also complex, of course.

It included several details, and I did my best to make them easy to remember.  I quickly learned that the lot of details made the game more fun.

Regularity. I sought to go shaking hands once a week.  I figured that one day a week was good enough spacing.  I certainly did not want to program myself to shake hands everyday.  Neither did I want to become too predictable.  And yes, I did not want to bother people too often either.  As far as the choice of day, there was nothing special really, contrary to what you all were thinking.  The whole thing was largely dependent on my mood.  That said, if it was Thursday afternoon and I still hadn't run the operation all week for some reason, I would plan on running it the following morning, whether my mood was cooperating or not.

Timing. I planned on arriving by 9:30am; sometimes after 9:15am but always before 9:45am.  I even timed my departure from home to be on time, waiting occasionally in a seat in front of the RER platform if I was too early!  Regarding the choice of time, 9:30am seemed reasonable.  I estimated that the open space would have a decent amount of people at that time (at least half the capacity) and that most of them would not yet be too absorbed in their work.

Entrances. It took a while to get the system of entering the open space worked out.  Not that I was even thinking about that when I launched the operation.  I just noticed that I was moving always in the same direction and therefore I decided to vary things up.  I ended up taking one of the two entrances one week, and the other one the following week.  When I started covering the adjacent open space (see below), I had four entrances to play with, two per open space.  So I continued the same system of alternating entrances, though in a clockwise direction.  That kept matters simple, since I had to only remember the entrance that I took the previous week to figure out which one to take on a given week.

Handwashing. I washed my hands in the restroom before showtime.  It is only the right thing to do before shaking dozens of hands in a matter of a few minutes!  I got around to washing my hands afterwards as well.

Scope 1. Once I was getting comfortable with the operation in our open space, I decided to branch out to the adjacent one.  In other words, I would go there to shake the hands of people who we saw much less, who we knew much less, and with whom we worked much less, if ever at all.  The strangeness of that idea was too alluring to pass up.  Besides, I wanted to keep my spirits up by thinking bigger.

Scope 2. Over time, after taking about 5-10 quick minutes of a given day of the week to visit about 40 people on average in two open spaces, I was once again used to the operation as it was and thought about taking it a step further.  So I traded in quantity for quality.  I decided to visit one open space on one day of the week, and the other on another day of the same week.  I figured that this would allow me time to chat briefly with the people that I greeted, if they were so inclined for a chat.  I can assure you that not everyone was!

Conversation. Quite naturally, the time to engage in conversations came.  Even if I found myself on occasion already chatting with people during my visit, I felt the urge to structure things a bit.  So I decided to prompt conversations with specific people each week, in addition to the spontaneous chats.  Since I was not really at ease with conversing with unfamiliar people or with certain people that I knew, I settled on asking "Ca va ?" ("How are things?") after the handshake and seeing where that led to.  The few reactions that I got have been pretty much forgotten since and, in any case, this part remains the least developed of the operation.  I am glad however for having tried.

The results

The results were incredible.  You know, Handshake became my first successful operation and the only one for a long while, if we define success by the fact that I went through with it every week without fail.  Whenever I realized that I was on a winning streak, I became more motivated to ensure that the streak continued, even while seeking new challenges within the operation.

Yes, it took effort to keep the streak going.  Why?  Because there was a certain stage fright that was often present, notably in the early stages of the operation.  After all, I was coming out of my quiet and comfortable corner, to which I had confined myself for a long time to avoid bothering anyone, to begin approaching each person in the open space in a regular and unusual way, exposing myself to public scrutiny in the process.  Some people must have turned heads.  Nevertheless, it was not always easy getting into the mindset necessary to accomplish the task.  Most of the time, I heard voices in my head trying to dissuade me, saying things like "Why are you doing this?  There is no point", "Do you know how weird it's going to be?", "You don't work with those people; you don't even know them.  Why are you going to bother them ‒ just to shake their hand?  They will not be pleased at all."  The voices were so persuasive that I had the shivers in the restroom after washing my hands, carrying not much else in mind but the weight of the duty that had chosen to fulfill.  In order to calm myself in these moments since I was getting acquainted with them regularly, I kept in my pocket a piece of paper on which I had written within the comfort of my apartment.  It had words of encouragement and purpose to remind me how my unwanted feelings would persist if not worsen had I refused to take action.  Fortunately, I was able to do take action, each time, in spite of the fear.  At some point, the fear that had escalated began to diminish.

One of the turning points that I truly cherished was that when I started doing la bise ("cheek kisses") with the ladies.  After so many handshakes, the ice had broken and it had suddenly become natural to advance to the bise stage with them.

It was also amusing how some people, a few of whom that I did not know well, would stop by at my desk during the day to shake my hand and then continue on their journey without having said a single word to me.  I took it as a compliment, a sign that the operation was appreciated.  It just brightened my day.  In fact, you were one of these people!

Among the many gifts that you guys gave me during my farewell party, the antiseptic soap was one of those that I found quite touching.  I have hardly used it!  I may just keep it as a souvenir of good times.

I wonder sometimes if my initiative helped improve the lives of others at work, even if a little.  What do you think?

For my part, I just felt that I was more like the person that I wanted to be.  I started to enjoy the time spent at work more.  I felt more open, more spontaneous, more assertive, and certainly less invisible.  More visible?  Who knows.  But I felt good, and better among you guys.  It was sad that it came to an end, but such is life.

Until next time dude.  Make sure that you forward this "algorithm" to François.

Regards.

Monsieur Conf.

the crazy ones

Of all the celebrated innovations that the "world's most valuable company" has put out in its lifetime, the thing that I admire Apple the most for is a 60-second commercial.  And it does not even refer to a single innovation, product, or service that the company has been responsible for.

Simon Sinek says "People don't buy what you do, they buy why you do it."  And while I'm yet to buy a product from Apple (my cellphone of 3 years has been acting up for months now though), I would be the first to purchase a copy of this commercial if I could not view it for free.

Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you Think Different.

What is even better than the video is the accompanying text.  I'm talking about the original version according to Wikipedia, which adds sparkle to the version heard in the video.  Note favorite lines in bold.

Here's to the crazy ones. The misfits. The rebels. The troublemakers. The round pegs in the square holes.

The ones who see things differently. They're not fond of rules. And they have no respect for the status quo. You can quote them, disagree with them, glorify or vilify them.

About the only thing you can't do is ignore them. Because they change things. They invent. They imagine. They heal. They explore. They create. They inspire. They push the human race forward.

Maybe they have to be crazy.

How else can you stare at an empty canvas and see a work of art? Or sit in silence and hear a song that's never been written? Or gaze at a red planet and see a laboratory on wheels?

We make tools for these kinds of people.

While some see them as the crazy ones, we see genius. Because the people who are crazy enough to think they can change the world, are the ones who do.

The best of the lot is a piece of insight provided by Steve Jobs during an interview with PBS.  I discovered the words of the late co-founder and former CEO of Apple on the "Concept, philosophy, background" section of the Wikipedia page for Think Different. Instantly, I was moved.

When you grow up you tend to get told the world is the way it is and your life is just to live your life inside the world. Try not to bash into the walls too much. Try to have a nice family life, have fun, save a little money.

That's a very limited life. Life can be much broader once you discover one simple fact, and that is ‒ everything around you that you call life, was made up by people that were no smarter than you. And you can change it, you can influence it, you can build your own things that other people can use.

The minute that you understand that you can poke life and actually something will, you know if you push in, something will pop out the other side, that you can change it, you can mold it. That's maybe the most important thing. It's to shake off this erroneous notion that life is there and you're just gonna live in it, versus embrace it, change it, improve it, make your mark upon it.

I think that's very important and however you learn that, once you learn it, you'll want to change life and make it better, cause it's kind of messed up, in a lot of ways. Once you learn that, you'll never be the same again.

greater expectations

Let's face it.

We all have expectations.  We need them in particular to feel happy, secure, and loved, among other things.

At work, we expect our colleagues to appreciate our presence and our efforts, our bosses to offer us salary increases and constructive feedback.  We expect to have challenging projects to work on, to have opportunities for our professional development.

In our personal relationships, we expect our parents to approve of the decisions that we make.  We expect our spouse or partner to acknowledge our presence, to care about our feelings, to respect our opinions.  We expect our closest friends to relate to us, to be there for us in difficult times, to reach out to us when they need support.

Regarding the society at large, we expect our elected officials to make decisions that reflect our best interests and those of the community.  We expect our celebrities to be role models, to support charitable causes.  We expect our favorite athletes to demonstrate a will to win when participating at sporting events.

And the list goes on.

And let's not even get started on the expectations that others have of us.

Surely, some or all of these expectations are inevitable for our lives to function properly.  For one thing, we are social beings.  We cannot do everything ourselves and in order to survive, we have to trust others on matters that we do not have the skills or the willingness to handle.  Besides, expectations seem to be at the very core of society.  That is, society being a group of people acting in orderly and predictable ways for the sake of social comfort.

But what if we as individuals living in this society placed a lesser value on what we expected from it, and a greater value on what we expected from ourselves?

One benefit of such a shift in our expectations is that we are more emotionally secure.  Each one of us follows normally what makes sense to him or her and to him or her alone, and, because of this, we cannot confer to others the primary responsibility of fulfilling the emotional needs that we crave the most.  Neither can we afford to fault others for not providing for us, since they are just like us with needs of their own.  By expecting more from ourselves, we commit more of ourselves to doing things that satisfy our deepest desires and that depend largely on no one but ourselves.  Through this commitment, we become inseparable from the emotional security that we seek; this security becomes thus a natural and essential part of who we are.

A more important benefit is that we are more in control of our lives.  As we expect more from ourselves, we move deeper within ourselves, to a place that is accessible to only us.  From that point, we discover what we need, how to keep it when we have it, and how to provide it when it is lacking.  Ultimately, what is essential in our lives will be in our own hands.  Liberating indeed, yet it could seem like a daunting challenge.  But as we make gains in self-esteem and in self-confidence as a result of meeting the expectations that we set for ourselves, we become more capable of taking that challenge.  We might even relish it.

So expect things from others, but expect greater from yourself.  It may require more effort than what you are used to.  But you have an energy that is always available to you.  It is the same energy that you are using to understand the words that you are reading.  Why not invest this natural resource in something that rewards you with more control of your life?

Without exception, I expect things from other people.  This expectation manifests itself more in the subsequent resentment that I feel when I do not get what I need than in the upfront demand that I could make for what I need.  Well, I do not want the resentment anymore and I do not want to require that others give me what I need.  That is why I will always expect greater from myself.

Be the change that you wish to see in the world.

– Mahatma Gandhi

always start with why

I have been doing this all wrong.

Simon Sinek would be cross with me.

Yes, Simon Sinek, he whose work has greatly influenced in my life in recent years.  Since November 2009, when my friend Tinu sent me a link to a "Finding Your Dream Job" podcast featuring Simon as the guest, I have been hooked.  In addition to the website of the movement he started, I have gobbled up his book, his blog, his tweets, his articles, his interviews, his conference calls, and certainly his TED talk.  The latter arrived on the list of the most viewed TED talks in 2011 at the 19th spot, reached the 7th position the following year, and looks well on its way to be the most popular of all (watch out Sir Ken Robinson).

Simon devotes much of his time to sharing the WHY.  This is a concept that may be easily understood by considering these questions: Why do you do what you do?  Why do you exist?  Why did you get out of bed this morning?  And why should anyone care?  According to Simon, it is by finding answers to these questions — or finding our WHY, in his words — that we can begin to have more profoundly satisfying lives.  The WHY captures a purpose, a cause, or a belief that goes deeper than WHAT we do or HOW we do it, even though the WHAT and the HOW are also essential.  The combination of WHY, HOW, and WHAT form what Simon calls the Golden Circle, a collection of three concentric circles with the WHY in the center.  Simon argues that life is meaningful and satisfactory when all three are in balance within a person (or within a group of people).  And bringing about this balance when it is little or absent does not involve focusing on WHATs or HOWs.  Instead, it requires remembering WHY.  In fact, that is the first step to restoring the balance, as well as to communicating and relating better with others.

The concept of WHY is as alluring as it is simple.  Perhaps its allure lies in its simplicity.

But I had forgotten it recently, and this for the umpteenth time, as I was too cooked up in the course of events.  It took some afternoon tea near Bastille a few weeks ago with my buddy Rémy for the subject to rise back up to the surface of my awareness.  He had discovered the concept and learned that I knew about it, and wanted to discuss.

But I forgot again when I got home, yet again absorbed with the current event at hand.  I was getting ready to draw something for fourth consecutive day, something that I had never done before.  However, alone in my apartment, on a late Saturday afternoon, the sun shining outside, I was overcome with the same feeling of loneliness that I was already quite familiar with.  I wrestled with my thoughts, and soon found myself asking questions, like "What is the point of drawing again when I feel lonely on a regular basis?", for example.  A struggle it was to begin drawing in such conditions.  Eventually, I plowed through, strongly believing that I had to go all the way despite the circumstances.  After taking a short while to savor the results of a labor more mental than physical, I got on my computer to dig up a list of "Why Exploration Questions" that the discussion with Rémy had brought back to memory.  Once found, I sent it to Rémy.

Back in my seat at the drawing table, I decided to contemplate the list.  By tackling the questions, I was not necessarily trying to clarify my WHY; I was merely motivated to understand why I had persisted in drawing in spite of the recurring loneliness that I was suffering from.  I was well aware that I had done this kind of exercise numerous times before, often finding answers that were neither clear enough nor convincing enough to be retained.  But I felt more confident about what I was about to do, so I forged ahead.  Question No. 1: "In your life so far, what are your greatest accomplishments?  Why did you do these things?"  I noted down discovering flow and desensitizing myself to previously painful events.  I also included learning to speak French fluently, to round things out with an accomplishment that was less "out-there".  Now why did I do these things?  "To discover my passion" was a quick answer.  The next one however stopped me in my tracks once I had written it down:  "To better myself; to stop the habit of repressing my favorite ideas in the face of the masses and/or authority."  I imagined that I could still find more reasons to give for having accomplished what I did and besides, there were twelve (12!) more questions on the list.  But I could not will myself to continue.  It felt that I had stumbled on something fundamental and that it was not necessary to keep looking for more suitable answers.  It was an emotionally powerful moment, during which I experienced a deep peace that would last some while.

So I had a habit of repressing things — not just my favorite ideas — when feeling intimidated by the masses or by authority, and that was why I was driven to accomplish the things that I considered the greatest in my life.  To be honest, I had already made this revelation several times before, though not using the same exact words.  In the end, I felt that this answer to the original question lacked the clarity and emotional power that a WHY needed to have in my opinion — Simon's WHY, for example, is "to inspire people to do the things that inspire them the most" —, but I told myself that it would have to do for the moment.

I figure that my life can only get better (and be less lonely, why not) if I remember to take the time to start with why, or simply to ask why.  So, Simon, I'll try my best.  Please don't be cross.

Note: My words being incapable of doing justice to the value of Simon's work, I invite you to visit the Start With Why website at http://www.startwithwhy.com to find out more.

theater everywhere

A few weeks after moving to Paris, I started attending personal development sessions offered by my employer.  These sessions took place in the evening once a month in a studio located in central Paris, and lasted about three hours each time.  I remember the first time I showed up.  The room was filled with 20 to 30 people, all colleagues with the exception of the instructor.  I felt completely out of my league as the newbie in a crowd of French speakers in familiar territory, even if my French was decent.  Besides, I was reserved and discreet by nature, with the body language to prove it.  In spite of this, I kept up with the sessions over the next five years that followed.

The reason why I kept coming back was because it was so much fun trying out new ways of being.  And the person responsible for this was Corinne, the instructor.  Not only did she propose fun games for us to play in a group as a warm-up, she had a way of enabling us to perform to the best of our abilities during improvisational sketches and script performances.  Her enthusiasm was always present and very contagious.  And whenever helpful or necessary, she never hesitated to use her professional expertise as a actress to inspire us.  And what a beauty it was to watch her perform.  Mesmerizing, in fact.  I was in love with Corinne and with her sessions, and sometimes that emotional high was just enough to block out the awareness of feeling different.  I even jumped on board when she informed me of the theater classes that she was teaching at a conservatory near the Eiffel Tower, just so that I could have more opportunities to explore the actor within me.  Each class followed a structure that was very similar to that of the personal development sessions, but the work was more formal.  In any case, the whole thing was a self-discovery adventure that I enjoyed to the fullest.

The latter of my two years of theater classes with Corinne culminated in an end-of-year special, during which the three other students and I performed excerpts from several French plays at the conservatory before an audience of about 30-40 people.  A few days after the performance, I could see how I had progressed from someone who was afraid of exposing himself to public scrutiny to a person nearly capable of losing himself in character.  In conjunction with the personal development sessions, which also ended at the same time, I felt more at ease allowing any unpredictable silliness that I had to manifest itself and speaking a French that some people could have trouble understanding.

Then again, I found it difficult to sign up for next year's theater classes.  I was nowhere being close to a professional actor and thoughts of more intensive classes had crossed my mind, yet the desire to invest more of myself was not strong enough.  In the process of figuring out how to continue the adventure that had brought me much joy and a certain self-confidence, I had an enlightenment.  Each theater class occurred once a week and lasted about two hours.  That's two hours a week at most to explore new ways of expression in everyday situations with virtually complete freedom.  That's great, but the amount of available time (time spent awake) in a week is much more than that (let's say 100 hours for example).  Why wait each week for a period of two hours to let everything out?  Why not partake in theatrical endeavors beyond the classroom, and at anytime?  I was fascinated by these questions, after five years working with Corinne.  I certainly would not have envisioned such a thing during my early involvement in the personal development sessions, which I saw then as an opportunity to learn how to live normally, like other people around me appeared to be doing, in order to find my place in French society.

In some ways, the more social of my operations play with this idea of creating theater beyond the classroom.  I know some people who also have taken to doing new or unusual things in public situations, just for the sake of it or as a personal challenge.  A friend who gave me the idea of this blog once told me a story in which she burst suddenly into song while awaiting the metro on the platform.  Another friend also recounted to me how she once entered a boulangerie (bakery) in the guise of an English-speaking star (with accompanying paparazzi!) and remained in character during her visit.  Even the folks at Improv Everywhere make this playfulness in public a key part of who they are; their purpose is, in their words, to cause scenes.  Since 2001, they have pulled off an immense variety of "missions" to the joy of the unsuspecting public and Internet viewers alike.  You might be familiar with their Frozen Grand Central mission; my own favorites include Say Something Nice, High Five Escalator, and Meet a Black Person.

And the truth, whether we are theater amateurs or not, is that we all have this potential to express ourselves in new ways.  The culture in which we live offers a wealth of resources from which each of us can always draw inspiration to create our very own theater.  There is a wealth in language (words, meanings, accents, figures of speech), a wealth of information (movies, books, songs, television shows, news articles), a wealth of gestures (handshakes, smiles, screams, jumps), a wealth of environments (home, work, supermarket, subway, mall), and most certainly a wealth among people, each person with ideas, experiences, and skills that are unique, as well as a wealth that you possess ‒ yes, you ‒ in your own ideas, your own experiences, and your own skills.  Imagine if we spent more time combining some or all of these resources in order to produce something new.  Without a doubt, our souls would be more creative, our lives would be more exciting, and we would perhaps want to embark on an adventure to prolong the joy of living that came from exploring the actor within us.  I know I would.

To those looking to feel more comfortable with themselves wherever they are, or even to spend an enjoyable moment with other people, I suggest theater classes (Corinne as a wonderful instructor, by the way).  But don't limit yourself there.  The world around you is a stage that is always available.

Réveille l'acteur qui sommeille en toi.

(Wake up the actor that lies dormant in you.)

honneur aux jolies filles

One Friday evening last year, I stopped outside a supermarket somewhere in Paris near the Saint-Lazare train station.  I was accompanying two friends, Jeannette and David, to a house party and we wanted to get some food beforehand.  At some point during the stop, I was observing the streets packed with people and I noticed the abundance of pretty women around.  Fascinated, I told David something to this effect: "Man, there are so many pretty girls in this city!"  He replied rather dryly: "Yep, there are pretty girls everywhere.  But it does not mean anything if all you do is look at them."  Right.

Several months later, with this moment still fresh in mind, I launched Operation Les Jolies Filles.  Indeed, Paris does have lots of beautiful women, and I felt ready to do something more about it than just look from afar.  Actually, I wanted to change how I perceived women in general.  I had grown tired of the fantasy in which I held them, as well as the suffering that resulted from maintaining that fantasy.

In other words, Operation Les Jolies Filles was designed to do away with something of an inferiority complex.

The operation as I had imagined it certainly had the potential to transform the turn of events in a situation similar to the one that occurred in Angoulême last July.  It presented itself also as an excellent opportunity to become better acquainted with women in France, since the only reply that I could muster to questions like "So how are the women in France?" or "And French women?" was "I don't really know", because I just didn't know.  An answer based on what I thought was the stereotype, that French women were "difficult" and "demanding", was naturally a no-no.

So during the first five months of the operation, I said "Bonjour" to random pretty women that I passed on the street.  The interaction remained at that.  There was little chance to wait for a "Bonjour" in return, much less to have a conversation, since I was already gone looking for the next pretty girl.  I did this every other day, and targeted at least two women and no more than five on operation day.

After taking my time to greet 250 women, I figured it was high time to take things a step further.  I therefore decided to stop after approaching a pretty girl to interact with her.  But only to tell her "Je vous trouve très jolie" ("I find you very pretty") before moving on along.

For three days straight, I failed to get this next step off the ground.  It was not that I did not cross paths with a pretty girl, but that I could not push past the fear of saying something that was unusual and unnecessary to a girl that I did not know at all, and on the street of all places.  In addition, I was afraid that my actions would make the girl think that I was trying to pick her up, which I was not comfortable with.  At the rare moments when I was able to overcome all these mental obstacles, I tried to get the job done.  I looked at almost every woman coming in my direction and got ready to do my act if I had deemed that she was pretty, only to end up doing nothing as we passed each other.  It was a sequence of events that repeated itself over and over again, leaving my mind increasingly in utter chaos.

But on the Sunday morning of September 1, I broke through.  I was not having it.  I was just going to do it.  I had to push past the fear.  Besides, how painful could it be to compliment a girl?  I had been told often that girls liked that kind of stuff.  So I got my mind ready.  Instead of taking the metro or a Vélib' like I usually did when going to Marché d'Aligre, I was going to walk there and talk to the first five pretty girls that I found on the way.  Which I actually did.  Well, five out of six.  Or seven.

The first encounter was interesting and clearly the most important.  In a large and virtually empty square, I saw the target, a bespectacled young woman with matte skin and curly hair.  Having decided that she was pretty, I stopped her with a "Bonjour" before following through.  "Je vous trouve trrrrr, très jolie."  A faint smile let itself out towards the end.  With a larger smile, the young woman replied : "Merci, c'est gentil" ("Thank you, that's kind of you").  The end.  Sure, I finally tasted success, but what was that R about?  The very thing ‒ the pronunciation of the French R ‒ at the core of my greatest complex with the French language had resurfaced to spoil the long-awaited occasion.  Or rather, perhaps, to make it more memorable.

Naturally, I felt good about the done deed and could not be more delighted with the result.  After all, the target got a sincere compliment.  I got a courage experience.  At the end of it, we each felt better.  Win-win.  I love win-win situations.

I followed suit with the remaining targets without much trouble until the operation was completed.  Target 2 looked at me and promptly ignored me.  Target 3 reacted by making hand gestures that seemed to say she did not understand, while she moved her lips at the same time as if to say something even though no sound came out.  In any case, she did not bother to stay.  Target 4 ignored me, without the slightest sign of eye contact.  Target 5 said thank you with a smile.  The best part of it all was the summary that my friend's Aziz gave after I recounted the day's events to him: "2 thank yous, 2 ignorances, and 1 confusion."

I see this kind of interactions as something playful for everyone involved.  And so, I look forward to more thank yous, ignorances, and confusions.

souvenirs kenyans

Last month, I traveled to Kenya to attend the wedding of Jeannette and Jeff, a couple of dear friends from Paris.

Before and after the occasion, I was able to explore parts of Nairobi and venture into the outskirts of the city, where I got more up close and personal with nature.  It was splendid but all too brief!

The following are a few souvenirs from the trip.

Feed (and kiss!) Stacy at the Giraffe Centre (Lang'ata, Nairobi)

Carnivore, ranked one of the world's 50 best restaurants (Lang'ata, Nairobi)

Lunch: pilau, sukuma wiki, kachumbari, chapati, ugali, and some tasty fish

Painting of the Big Five + giraffe at the Great Rift Valley viewpoint

View from Mount Longonot

Mount Longonot crater point and "false summit"

Marabou Stork near Lake Naivasha

Hippopotamus pod on Lake Naivasha

More tasty fish with Stoney Ginger Beer (Ranalo Foods, Nairobi)

Something useful when eating ugali at Ranalo Foods: outdoor sinks (Nairobi)

vaincre ma timidité

"Vaincre sa timidité" is an expression in the French language to which I have taken somewhat of a fascination.  In English, it translates to "overcoming one's shyness".  And thinking about it, I have almost never seen nor heard "vaincre" and "timidité" otherwise or even separately.  Maybe I don't pay much attention to other ways in which these words are used or maybe I am singling out this expression from the several that I come across every day, because I may be timid.  Really, is it any surprise that I am writing on this particular subject?

Last July, at a drawing workshop that I attended in Angoulême, I met a fellow participant named Mélanie.  We got to talking during a group lunch on the first day, and I found her to be rather sincere and simple.  And pretty too.  An attraction started to brew.

One evening, after a day's worth of drawing exercises, Mélanie and I got a ride downtown from Dominique, who was also taking the workshop.  While searching for souvenirs to buy, Mélanie suggested that we have a hot dinner together in her stove-equipped hotel room since we were both staying alone in the city.  "It could be nice", she added.  Indeed, I thought.  So we stopped at a supermarket to get some food before making the walk towards her hotel.  Since being invited to dinner at home by a rather unfamiliar girl was unusual for me, I started to get anxious.  The situation was only troubled more by my increasing attraction.

At dinner, Mélanie and I got to know each other better.  More correctly, it was I who got to know her better.  It was all that I would allow myself to do, fearful of the uncertainty that would follow if I made it clear that I was smitten by her.  Eventually, after leaving for my hotel, I could not help but lament failure after failure to express my feelings.  Nevertheless, I remained optimistic.

The next day came.  The last evening before the workshop was a couple of hours away and I hoped very much that I would end up again at Mélanie's place.  I did.

Pleasant dinner, good conversation, and constant anxiety, all over again.  I stayed on the lookout for a good moment to break the ice.  It seemed like there were several, but I hesitated to make good use of them.  It was an ordeal holding both fantasy and reality in my mind; the obvious conflict between the two was quite difficult to tolerate.  Sometime after dinner, having run out of words, I figured that I might as well return to my hotel.  So I got up to head for the door.  But not before daring something at the last minute.

Since Mélanie and I were on the topic of fear at the time, I admitted that I had a fear.  She asked what it was and I found it interesting to overcome the fear at that instant.  The events that followed happened quickly and remain a blur.  They included me approaching Mélanie, who was standing at a certain distance, and then retreating halfway as if some invisible force field had prevented me from advancing.  What I felt at the time resembled shame.  And all that while, Melanie just stood there, watching silently.

Feeling suddenly exposed, I revealed that I had tried to kiss her.  Yet it was clear that I did not even give myself a decent chance, having botched my attempt.  Mélanie, however, remained silent.

Since I had already announced my departure, I found my way to the door, relieved from my anxiety but disappointed with my effort.  Once we got into the corridor, Mélanie broke her silence.  "Wow, you are timid!", she exclaimed, as if she could not believe it.  "Well, isn't it obvious?", I asked in reply.  She thought about it for a second.  "A little," she said, amused, letting out a slight smile.

So I guess that I am timid, at least with a woman.  After all, I did acknowledge that much.  "You are the person you chose to be", says Paul Arden.  Really, all I want to be is a free spirit, not only in what I do but also as far as who I am.  I think that overcoming one's shyness is important to that end, but it is merely a means.

Being a free spirit goes beyond that means.  And it appears to me that the subject does not have a place in popular discourse.  Maybe because the term "free spirit" is not easily defined.  Or maybe because such a state of being seems too difficult to achieve, if not impossible.  Is it even important in the first place?  Who knows.  Well, no worries.  Let's just resolve the matter by settling for something we can all recognize or relate to.  Shyness, and overcoming it.

So if you see me, hear me, or read about me doing anything silly, wrong, or maybe just downright cool, know that I am only trying to vaincre ma timidité.

shared dreams

The 50th anniversary celebration of Martin Luther King, Jr.'s famous "I Have a Dream" speech, delivered at a rally at the Lincoln Memorial in Washington, D.C. on August 28, 1963, inspired me to highlight an article written by Simon Sinek in 2010.

Entitled "Movement", the article describes how Martin Luther King, Jr. was able to spark a movement to bring about civil rights in the United States.  At its conclusion, Simon shares that he had been inspired not only by Dr. King himself, but also by how Dr. King inspired a movement.  As an admirer of Simon's work, I can understand his remarks since he himself started a movement several years ago.



Click here to view the full article

From a personal standpoint, I was drawn to the article while reading one particular detail: 250,000 people showed up to hear Martin Luther King, Jr. speak, but not for him.  Let me reformulate that: not a single person in this enormous crowd was present because of Dr. King.  Well, why were they there?

For themselves.  They showed up for themselves.

And that's the power of sharing dreams.  The organizers of the rally in Washington must have given the general public something that they could resonate with to end up with 250,000 people in attendance.  Then, in his speech, Martin Luther King, Jr. talked about a dream that members of the audience could resonate with.  The values evoked in the dream, notably those of freedom and equality, were just as important to these people as much as to Dr. King.  By sharing his dream with remarkable eloquence, Dr. King helped them to see themselves and their dream more clearly.

So Dr. King had a dream, and he said that much.  What about us?  Do we have dreams?  If so, are we sharing them?  It seems to me that some people believe that dreams should not belong in the real world.  They consider such matters as the fancy of children and adults that are out of touch with reality.  Others keep company with people for whom dreams don't exist, so any discourse on the subject is essentially foreign to them.  And there are a good number of people that have traded in their own dreams for those of others without even realizing it.

Naturally, I do not subscribe to these attitudes, since I am a dreamer.  A dream ‒ let's call it a vision if that is more like adultspeak ‒ can serve not only as a compass for navigating the complex society in which we live, but also as a path to a life continuously filled with meaning.  To quote Paul Arden, "your vision of where or who you want to be is the greatest asset you have."  All that is left is to invest oneself in the pursuit of this vision.  This, in my opinion, is where the joy of living often comes from.

While an individual dream has to be pursued for it to work its magic, it can go even further when shared with others who have the same dream.  There is power in numbers, really.  Surely, Dr. King and his partners understood this. 

What is my own dream?  Actually, I don't know.  I just don't feel that I have the words to describe it clearly.  In any case, I do know that it has something to do with living in a world of my own, yet one that includes other people.

I'll share that much.