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.
Saturday, September 28, 2013
Friday, September 20, 2013
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.
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.
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| Feed (and kiss!) Stacy at the Giraffe Centre (Lang'ata, Nairobi) |
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| Carnivore, ranked one of the world's 50 best restaurants (Lang'ata, Nairobi) |
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| Lunch: pilau, sukuma wiki, kachumbari, chapati, ugali, and some tasty fish |
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| Painting of the Big Five + giraffe at the Great Rift Valley viewpoint |
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| View from Mount Longonot |
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| Mount Longonot crater point and "false summit" |
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| Marabou Stork near Lake Naivasha |
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| Hippopotamus pod on Lake Naivasha |
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| More tasty fish with Stoney Ginger Beer (Ranalo Foods, Nairobi) |
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| Something useful when eating ugali at Ranalo Foods: outdoor sinks (Nairobi) |
Thursday, September 12, 2013
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.
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.
Friday, September 6, 2013
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.
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.
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.
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| 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.
Friday, August 16, 2013
bring on the crowd
On July 14th, a.k.a. Bastille Day, a.k.a. France's National Day, I set out to run Operation 50 First States in the 11th arrondissement of Paris. Besides trying to make the operation a once-a-month affair after taking on the 9th in May and the 10th in June, I was savoring the opportunity to celebrate Bastille Day in my own way, passing through Place de la Bastille, the site where the former Bastille prison was stormed on July 14th 1789. Talk about a marriage of my history with France's history!
I planned to get things started at Place de la Nation, a square located between the 11th and the 12th. Since I had already challenged myself with approaching individuals, couples, and groups, each category at least a hundred of times, I had felt the need to make matters more interesting. Besides, I was at the halfway in covering Paris, with 10 arrondissements down and 10 more to go. Could there have been a better time to change the rules of the game?
Change was desired, but which one would be the best to make the game meaningful yet exciting, to me and potentially to the people that I would be meeting? Certainly not that of making the questions any less ridiculous nor that of asking them in French. I had looked within and remembered that even though I had succeeded in asking people the 50 questions, I had often felt uncomfortable if there were many people around in close proximity, to the point of sometimes shying away from the target. Crowded, popular places were often the most challenging. Not only did I worry about rejection coming from the target for my unusual behavior, I feared judgment coming from the people around the target and myself. It was just a thing of discomfort. Yet it had to be the basis for the change that I desired.
So I had decided to ask the same questions to the same categories of people, but making sure each time that there were people around to potentially witness the event.
Now let's go back to D-Day. Bastille Day fell on a Sunday and Place de la Nation, one of Paris' largest squares, was pretty devoid of people in the morning. Besides, most people, including myself, were distracted by the national air force's planes whizzing through the sky to celebrate the day. Let's not forget my objective: 10 sites to visit and 50 people to ask, each one in front of an audience. I had time to think about it ‒ the streets being practically deserted, I did not have much to do ‒ and the whole thing just seemed less and less feasible that day. So I conceded defeat, and instead joined in with those watching the planes fly by.
Once I got back home, I sought ways to restructure the operation. One major change was to divide the 50 states into lots of 10 and devote a run of the operation to a single lot, nothing more. 10 being much more manageable than 50, the new operation would deter me from rushing to get through to the finish line. In other words, I could take my time more with 10. In addition, the restructuring also seemed like a shift from quantity towards quality, which I appreciated. As far as sites, I divided the selection by 5 also, thus making it the requirement to visit 2 sites during each run. I would pick off from where I left off and celebrate only when I had covered the 5 lots by blogging about the adventure.
To kick off the revamped Operation 50 First States ‒ which could be called Operation 5 * 10 States ‒ I returned to Place de la Nation, which I had chosen along with Rue de Charonne to be my 2 sites. On the Saturday in August that I was kicking things off, targets were easy to find. However, audiences were not, partly because I was not sure how much of a crowd was sufficient. I eventually ended up settling on a minimum of four people in the vicinity, excluding the target and myself. It would have been difficult to find a larger audience for each question. Still however, I went around and around the Place de la Nation, hoping to find a crowd. It was like struggling to give life to a newborn!
The birth was ultimately successful, and I made my way towards Rue de Charonne after counting 2 targets. On Boulevard de Charonne, there was an open-air market with people around. After feeling apprehension about being in a crowd and debating whether it was ethical to do what I had planned to do, I went on with it, walking up the long corridor of the market and approaching people. And since it was easy to find enough people to form the audience, I did not need to count. As far as choosing the target, I contented myself with interrupting those with seemingly nothing else to do but walk, ignoring those in queues. It was surprising that what I had feared doing was turning out to be rather effortless. I must have been in a zone.
I got out of the market having asked 4 people, but I still had not reached 10. What I had reached though was Rue de Charonne. So I took it, with the plan to end up near the Bastille neighborhood. Almost instantly, I saw a covered bus stop where about ten people were waiting and standing for the most part. Opportunity! It was the turn to ask a woman, so I scanned the bus stop. I found a few middle-aged women before my eyes landed on a young woman, who was quite pretty. Tending to shy almost always from the pretty girls, it became clear to me that it was her that I needed to approach. And without hesitation, I went up to her, doing my best to remain focused, and said: "Hi. Are you from Tallahassee?" She didn't seem to understand, and didn't say anything. But I clearly had her attention. At the same instant, I had the impression that the eyes of several people were on me ‒ something that I actually confirmed by sight ‒, and I instantly got nervous. But I managed to ask the young woman the question again, doing my best to be clearer. She replied "I do not understand", at which point I let out a faint smile and vanished. I couldn't believe what I had just done. I had managed to enter a dense crowd of unfamiliar people, on the street, drawing the attention of many of them while asking the prettiest among them a ridiculous and apparently incomprehensible question.
It was as if something fundamental in my psyche had gotten unlocked. My mind began to race, as I let myself imagine how much fun playing with crowds was going to be.
I planned to get things started at Place de la Nation, a square located between the 11th and the 12th. Since I had already challenged myself with approaching individuals, couples, and groups, each category at least a hundred of times, I had felt the need to make matters more interesting. Besides, I was at the halfway in covering Paris, with 10 arrondissements down and 10 more to go. Could there have been a better time to change the rules of the game?
Change was desired, but which one would be the best to make the game meaningful yet exciting, to me and potentially to the people that I would be meeting? Certainly not that of making the questions any less ridiculous nor that of asking them in French. I had looked within and remembered that even though I had succeeded in asking people the 50 questions, I had often felt uncomfortable if there were many people around in close proximity, to the point of sometimes shying away from the target. Crowded, popular places were often the most challenging. Not only did I worry about rejection coming from the target for my unusual behavior, I feared judgment coming from the people around the target and myself. It was just a thing of discomfort. Yet it had to be the basis for the change that I desired.
So I had decided to ask the same questions to the same categories of people, but making sure each time that there were people around to potentially witness the event.
Now let's go back to D-Day. Bastille Day fell on a Sunday and Place de la Nation, one of Paris' largest squares, was pretty devoid of people in the morning. Besides, most people, including myself, were distracted by the national air force's planes whizzing through the sky to celebrate the day. Let's not forget my objective: 10 sites to visit and 50 people to ask, each one in front of an audience. I had time to think about it ‒ the streets being practically deserted, I did not have much to do ‒ and the whole thing just seemed less and less feasible that day. So I conceded defeat, and instead joined in with those watching the planes fly by.
Once I got back home, I sought ways to restructure the operation. One major change was to divide the 50 states into lots of 10 and devote a run of the operation to a single lot, nothing more. 10 being much more manageable than 50, the new operation would deter me from rushing to get through to the finish line. In other words, I could take my time more with 10. In addition, the restructuring also seemed like a shift from quantity towards quality, which I appreciated. As far as sites, I divided the selection by 5 also, thus making it the requirement to visit 2 sites during each run. I would pick off from where I left off and celebrate only when I had covered the 5 lots by blogging about the adventure.
To kick off the revamped Operation 50 First States ‒ which could be called Operation 5 * 10 States ‒ I returned to Place de la Nation, which I had chosen along with Rue de Charonne to be my 2 sites. On the Saturday in August that I was kicking things off, targets were easy to find. However, audiences were not, partly because I was not sure how much of a crowd was sufficient. I eventually ended up settling on a minimum of four people in the vicinity, excluding the target and myself. It would have been difficult to find a larger audience for each question. Still however, I went around and around the Place de la Nation, hoping to find a crowd. It was like struggling to give life to a newborn!
The birth was ultimately successful, and I made my way towards Rue de Charonne after counting 2 targets. On Boulevard de Charonne, there was an open-air market with people around. After feeling apprehension about being in a crowd and debating whether it was ethical to do what I had planned to do, I went on with it, walking up the long corridor of the market and approaching people. And since it was easy to find enough people to form the audience, I did not need to count. As far as choosing the target, I contented myself with interrupting those with seemingly nothing else to do but walk, ignoring those in queues. It was surprising that what I had feared doing was turning out to be rather effortless. I must have been in a zone.
I got out of the market having asked 4 people, but I still had not reached 10. What I had reached though was Rue de Charonne. So I took it, with the plan to end up near the Bastille neighborhood. Almost instantly, I saw a covered bus stop where about ten people were waiting and standing for the most part. Opportunity! It was the turn to ask a woman, so I scanned the bus stop. I found a few middle-aged women before my eyes landed on a young woman, who was quite pretty. Tending to shy almost always from the pretty girls, it became clear to me that it was her that I needed to approach. And without hesitation, I went up to her, doing my best to remain focused, and said: "Hi. Are you from Tallahassee?" She didn't seem to understand, and didn't say anything. But I clearly had her attention. At the same instant, I had the impression that the eyes of several people were on me ‒ something that I actually confirmed by sight ‒, and I instantly got nervous. But I managed to ask the young woman the question again, doing my best to be clearer. She replied "I do not understand", at which point I let out a faint smile and vanished. I couldn't believe what I had just done. I had managed to enter a dense crowd of unfamiliar people, on the street, drawing the attention of many of them while asking the prettiest among them a ridiculous and apparently incomprehensible question.
It was as if something fundamental in my psyche had gotten unlocked. My mind began to race, as I let myself imagine how much fun playing with crowds was going to be.
Sunday, August 11, 2013
why i love paris (1)
One Sunday morning in April, I saw this ensemble play while I was on my way to Marché d'Aligre, an open-air market in Paris. I recognized the song but was not a huge fan. Yet stumbling upon the performance reminded me just why I loved Paris.
I recently bought "21", the album that contains the song covered above. And more than two years later, I have arrived at the party. And it appears that it's over. Okay.
Anyways, big ups to Adele and her people. The album is magnificent.
I recently bought "21", the album that contains the song covered above. And more than two years later, I have arrived at the party. And it appears that it's over. Okay.
Anyways, big ups to Adele and her people. The album is magnificent.
Thursday, August 8, 2013
in defense of the conservative
All creative people need something to rebel against, it's what
gives their lives excitement, and it's creative people who make the
clients' lives exciting.
‒ Paul Arden
One Friday evening last December, I went to Le Basile, a café in the 7th arrondissement of Paris, to run Operation Bar Games. I had already covered arrondissements 1 through 6, so the 7th was up next. I had my concerns about finding enough friendly bars in this part of Paris, one filled with embassies and government office buildings and considered to be the abode of many wealthy people. Yet I was to be undeterred.
Le Basile is known as the hangout for students of Sciences Po, the most elite of political science schools in France, located just across the street. I had been to the café several Fridays in the past and literally gotten lost in discussions on political science matters that I never knew existed.
So that evening, after getting my glass of cranberry juice at the counter, I headed towards the back of the room in order to meet whoever I saw that fit the bill, political science student or not. I found a table of four by the wall facing the street, went over and started my routine upon arrival:
Me: Hi!
Table of Four (surprised): Hi.
Me (extending glass): Cheers!
Table of Four (still surprised, some willing, others reluctant): Cheers.
Me: So, are you guys left-siders?
Table of Four (confused): A what?
Me: A left-sider.
Table of Four (still confused): What's that?
Me: A left-sider is someone who believes that he can change the world.
Table of Four (smiling yet skeptic): Ah.
Soon after, the conversation takes a more typical turn, similar to one that foreigners in Paris meeting for the first time might have: "Where are you from?", "How long have you been in Paris?", "What are you doing in Paris?" In the midst of all the chatter, a member of the table suggests that they all go out for a cigarette break. And I am invited to come along. How I love it when a random group of people in Paris accept me as one of their own.
So we all went outside the café and continued talking. A girl from the group then tells me, "I don't think that you will have much success finding the kind of people that you are looking for here, as this part of the city is very conservative."
And I'm thinking: "And that's a bad thing?"
I think that it can be more meaningful to try changing the world in a place considered to be very conservative than not. Why? Because the opportunities for action are abundant in such a place. They will keep someone totally dedicated to the task of changing the world motivated, pushing him to become better at what he does. He may end up realizing his quest, or he may eventually fall short. Regardless of the outcome, the experience will nonetheless be worthwhile because of his commitment to doing something great.
It's like working as a street cleaner. How fulfilling would it be for a person truly dedicated to the task of street cleaning to go to streets that were already clean? How much experience, how much fulfillment can he gain from cleaning what is already clean? I bet you not much. Perhaps he dislikes working in the dirtiest of streets, but for a devoted street cleaner to feel useful, he needs dirty streets.
And for a devoted world-changer ‒ or left-sider ‒ to feel useful, he needs conservative situations. All the time? Probably not. But much of the time? Oh yes.
Besides, it's exciting work. Who wouldn't enjoy trying to change the world in a place where doing so is believed to be impossible, or where doing so is not given much thought, if at all?
Conservative places exist for a reason. So let us try to see the benefit in them.
‒ Paul Arden
One Friday evening last December, I went to Le Basile, a café in the 7th arrondissement of Paris, to run Operation Bar Games. I had already covered arrondissements 1 through 6, so the 7th was up next. I had my concerns about finding enough friendly bars in this part of Paris, one filled with embassies and government office buildings and considered to be the abode of many wealthy people. Yet I was to be undeterred.
Le Basile is known as the hangout for students of Sciences Po, the most elite of political science schools in France, located just across the street. I had been to the café several Fridays in the past and literally gotten lost in discussions on political science matters that I never knew existed.
So that evening, after getting my glass of cranberry juice at the counter, I headed towards the back of the room in order to meet whoever I saw that fit the bill, political science student or not. I found a table of four by the wall facing the street, went over and started my routine upon arrival:
Me: Hi!
Table of Four (surprised): Hi.
Me (extending glass): Cheers!
Table of Four (still surprised, some willing, others reluctant): Cheers.
Me: So, are you guys left-siders?
Table of Four (confused): A what?
Me: A left-sider.
Table of Four (still confused): What's that?
Me: A left-sider is someone who believes that he can change the world.
Table of Four (smiling yet skeptic): Ah.
Soon after, the conversation takes a more typical turn, similar to one that foreigners in Paris meeting for the first time might have: "Where are you from?", "How long have you been in Paris?", "What are you doing in Paris?" In the midst of all the chatter, a member of the table suggests that they all go out for a cigarette break. And I am invited to come along. How I love it when a random group of people in Paris accept me as one of their own.
So we all went outside the café and continued talking. A girl from the group then tells me, "I don't think that you will have much success finding the kind of people that you are looking for here, as this part of the city is very conservative."
And I'm thinking: "And that's a bad thing?"
I think that it can be more meaningful to try changing the world in a place considered to be very conservative than not. Why? Because the opportunities for action are abundant in such a place. They will keep someone totally dedicated to the task of changing the world motivated, pushing him to become better at what he does. He may end up realizing his quest, or he may eventually fall short. Regardless of the outcome, the experience will nonetheless be worthwhile because of his commitment to doing something great.
It's like working as a street cleaner. How fulfilling would it be for a person truly dedicated to the task of street cleaning to go to streets that were already clean? How much experience, how much fulfillment can he gain from cleaning what is already clean? I bet you not much. Perhaps he dislikes working in the dirtiest of streets, but for a devoted street cleaner to feel useful, he needs dirty streets.
And for a devoted world-changer ‒ or left-sider ‒ to feel useful, he needs conservative situations. All the time? Probably not. But much of the time? Oh yes.
Besides, it's exciting work. Who wouldn't enjoy trying to change the world in a place where doing so is believed to be impossible, or where doing so is not given much thought, if at all?
Conservative places exist for a reason. So let us try to see the benefit in them.
Friday, August 2, 2013
brave
A brave person ... is the one who dares to face with courage the things that others spend their whole lives running from.
‒ M.Farouk Radwan
Last week, while parading the Billboard website to find out how the latest releases were faring on the charts, I discovered Sara Bareilles. Her album, The Blessed Unrest, debuted at No. 2 on the Billboard 200. An article spotlighting this singer-songwriter gave me the itch to find out more. Without a doubt, this was partly because of "Brave", the album's lead single.
Now what's better than the music video? The lyric video!
The music video is wonderful. The acting ‒ or lack thereof ‒ is great. But for me though, it's all about the music. Sara's singing is on point, and I love the way that her voice meshes with the instrumental, whose sounds follow each other pleasantly. But to be honest, I really prefer the lyric video. The words just take everything to a deeper level.
Some lyrics that spoke to me:
You can be the outcast / Or be the backlash of somebody's lack of love / Or you can start speaking up
Don't run / Stop holding your tongue
Maybe there's a way out of the cage where you live / Maybe one of these days you can let the light in
And since your history of silence / Won't do you any good / Did you think it would?
And then there's the chorus:
Say what you want to say / And let the words fall out / Honestly / I want to see you be brave
A true delight.
‒ M.Farouk Radwan
Last week, while parading the Billboard website to find out how the latest releases were faring on the charts, I discovered Sara Bareilles. Her album, The Blessed Unrest, debuted at No. 2 on the Billboard 200. An article spotlighting this singer-songwriter gave me the itch to find out more. Without a doubt, this was partly because of "Brave", the album's lead single.
Now what's better than the music video? The lyric video!
The music video is wonderful. The acting ‒ or lack thereof ‒ is great. But for me though, it's all about the music. Sara's singing is on point, and I love the way that her voice meshes with the instrumental, whose sounds follow each other pleasantly. But to be honest, I really prefer the lyric video. The words just take everything to a deeper level.
Some lyrics that spoke to me:
You can be the outcast / Or be the backlash of somebody's lack of love / Or you can start speaking up
Don't run / Stop holding your tongue
Maybe there's a way out of the cage where you live / Maybe one of these days you can let the light in
And since your history of silence / Won't do you any good / Did you think it would?
And then there's the chorus:
Say what you want to say / And let the words fall out / Honestly / I want to see you be brave
A true delight.
Wednesday, July 17, 2013
souvenirs angoumoisins
I was there to attend a drawing workshop based on Betty Edwards' popular book, "Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain". It was a lovely experience. I learned a lot, and naturally, I drew a lot too.
After a day of drawing, I sometimes spent the evening exploring Angoulême, especially its historic center, appreciating the sights of a town famous for its annual Festival international de la bande dessinée (International Comics Festival).
The following are a few souvenirs from the exploration.
 |
| "La fille des remparts", Boulevard Pasteur |
 |
| Eglise Saint-Mart |
 |
| "Avec le temps", Rue des frères Lumière |
 |
| "Un samedi à Malakoff", Avenue Gambetta |
 |
| Below the pont de Saint-Cyba |
 |
| Place Beaulieu |
 |
| Eglise Saint-Auso |
 |
| View from le rempart du Midi |
 |
| Cathédrale Saint-Pier |
 |
| Large grillon charentais |
Saturday, July 13, 2013
my new favorite philosopher
His name is Vincent Cespedes.
I discovered him thanks to my friend Mélodie, who sent me an e-mail last February about one of his conference-discussions at the Barrio Latino, in Paris.
I have never been big on philosophy, but I'll take Vincent since he talks ‒ at least in the video interview that Mélodie sent me ‒ about themes that matter to me: happiness, fears, self-work, optimism.
Check out the interview below. Since it's in French, I have taken this opportunity to flex my translation muscles by providing you a transcript in English. For free.
Interviewer 1: Hello Vincent Cespedes.
Vincent Cespedes: Hello.
Interviewer 1: Thank you for being with us this afternoon. You are a philosopher, and the author of a book that is titled "Magique étude du Bonheur". Let's talk about money and happiness. Do you understand the sentiment of the French that say "Money, yes, it's true that it can help but it is not enough?"
Vincent Cespedes: Now that is a great lesson of philosophy. We should not wait for a crisis to be able to rediscover it. Money is a means, not an end in itself. It is true that we live in a time where we tend to make money and celebrity existential objectives, goals in life. And that is a catastrophe in general. Of course, you know the end of the adage: "Money does not buy happiness, but it contributes to happiness." That means that it is very, very difficult to have a lack of money and of happiness because the absence of money is a factor of anxiety and of stress, and also, I would say, of bad health as well. Money allows a certain mental health, but it's not an end in itself, that's for sure.
Interviewer 2: Is there, according to you, a recipe for happiness? And if yes, what are the ingredients? Tell us everything.
Vincent Cespedes: Well, as far as recipes, there is only one. It's the recipe of two thousand years of philosophy, which essentially says: "You have fears in you, you have difficulties, mental blocks, you have to work on them." It's about working on yourself. And it is not simply that, it's also about working on society. Because it is true that we can change our vision of the world by working on ourselves and this work on oneself, we have difficulty in doing it because we live hurried, simplistic lives, because we all run. We are all hyperconnected, we forget this time of introspection, of reflection, of work on oneself. But it's not simply like that we can be happy. It's also by sensing that we are involved in the community, that we have an action in the world, that we connect to people. You know, the classic test is to see elderly people at the end of their life and ask them the question: "So is life worth living, Grandpa, Grandma?" And those who reply yes are those who say "I mingled with a lot of people. I met some terrific people." It is not "I got bonuses. I got stock options." It is really "I mingled with some terrific people." That means that it is the human connection and the human mix that is the nourishment absolutely essential for happiness. Of course, one must be capable of meeting people and getting out of community autism today of virtual communication ...
Interviewer 1: ... social networks. You evoke the stress linked to our lives sometimes a little shaken up by the professional world in particular. Do you have the sentiment precisely that the level of stress rises in people at work in particular?
Vincent Cespedes: Yes. I intervene a lot in companies. Philosophy in companies is more and more sought after. And what is sure is that stress at work is an immense factor, I would say, of misfortune and sadness. Stress is not a bad thing. We should not criticize stress; it is the capacity to adapt to new situations. But when the situations are new all the time and the necessity to adapt sollicits colossal energy resources on the part of individuals, we cannot create meaning, we cannot build relationships together. Stress prevents the creation, I would say, of fraternal bonds. And the sentiment of well-being at work comes from one's involvement in a team, the sentiment that one is useful. It is valid also in school, with our youth in schools. The happiness of going to study, the happiness of learning comes from the idea that I can do it, and that I am useful at that. If we are in a school that is selective and rejects students with a note in red "Can do better", etc., well we have what is the opposite of happiness, not anxiety, but resignation.
Interviewer 2: Precisely, you mentioned that you are more and more sought after by companies. What do you tell these employees? What is the message that you pass to these employees, the employees that are stressed?
Vincent Cespedes: Well, I address bosses in general. It is the bosses that ask in conferences. First of all, my tic is to never betray my message. I have convictions on capitalism, on politics, and what they ask is precisely on happiness. They ask "How does one transform the well-being ‒ and I am talking about bosses ‒ how to transform the well-being at work into performance? And does performance depend on happiness?"
Interviewer 2: So they want practical advice?
Vincent Cespedes: They want very practical advice but they want also a wide perspective, and the idea is that they must obviously trust their employees. It's really about changing the work culture, about creating a culture at work where trust among people becomes a core value. This notion of trust is essential. We live in a complex world, and the great work notably of the philosopher is to transform complexity into trust. It's the work of the 21st century.
Interviewer 1: A last word on the satisfaction index of the French. It is often said that they are in low spirits and when we look at this study from INSEE, it appears that the French note at 6.8 on a scale of 10 their level of satisfaction. It's not so bad.
Vincent Cespedes: It's not so bad, but it's not huge in a country, I would say, with consumer goods with easy reach. It's not huge. There are millions of poor people in France and above all, these surveys are obviously always skewed. I am very wary of the polls because we can very well take anxiolytics day in, day out and say that we are perfectly happy. But we are taking anxiolytics. And we are a nation, you know, that consumes a lot of antidepressants. These are less interesting figures, the consumption of antidepressants. If we are a population of druggers who need to take drugs to feel better, we cannot say that existential satisfaction surveys linked to the ease of consumption are satisfactory. I think that we should rediscover the contribution of the youth. Spending time with the youth brings about happiness. Spending time with children brings about happiness. I think that we should reconcile ourselves with the youth. And I think we should practice optimism. That is, the idea that the future can offer us also better things.
Interviewer 1: That is a beautiful idea. And to find out more, we will refer to your press conference. A press conference that you will give shortly in Paris, at Barrio Latino. It will be on January 29, a conference on optimism. And that is a good plan. Thank you very much Vincent Cespedes.
Vincent Cespedes: Thank you.
I discovered him thanks to my friend Mélodie, who sent me an e-mail last February about one of his conference-discussions at the Barrio Latino, in Paris.
I have never been big on philosophy, but I'll take Vincent since he talks ‒ at least in the video interview that Mélodie sent me ‒ about themes that matter to me: happiness, fears, self-work, optimism.
Check out the interview below. Since it's in French, I have taken this opportunity to flex my translation muscles by providing you a transcript in English. For free.
Interviewer 1: Hello Vincent Cespedes.
Vincent Cespedes: Hello.
Interviewer 1: Thank you for being with us this afternoon. You are a philosopher, and the author of a book that is titled "Magique étude du Bonheur". Let's talk about money and happiness. Do you understand the sentiment of the French that say "Money, yes, it's true that it can help but it is not enough?"
Vincent Cespedes: Now that is a great lesson of philosophy. We should not wait for a crisis to be able to rediscover it. Money is a means, not an end in itself. It is true that we live in a time where we tend to make money and celebrity existential objectives, goals in life. And that is a catastrophe in general. Of course, you know the end of the adage: "Money does not buy happiness, but it contributes to happiness." That means that it is very, very difficult to have a lack of money and of happiness because the absence of money is a factor of anxiety and of stress, and also, I would say, of bad health as well. Money allows a certain mental health, but it's not an end in itself, that's for sure.
Interviewer 2: Is there, according to you, a recipe for happiness? And if yes, what are the ingredients? Tell us everything.
Vincent Cespedes: Well, as far as recipes, there is only one. It's the recipe of two thousand years of philosophy, which essentially says: "You have fears in you, you have difficulties, mental blocks, you have to work on them." It's about working on yourself. And it is not simply that, it's also about working on society. Because it is true that we can change our vision of the world by working on ourselves and this work on oneself, we have difficulty in doing it because we live hurried, simplistic lives, because we all run. We are all hyperconnected, we forget this time of introspection, of reflection, of work on oneself. But it's not simply like that we can be happy. It's also by sensing that we are involved in the community, that we have an action in the world, that we connect to people. You know, the classic test is to see elderly people at the end of their life and ask them the question: "So is life worth living, Grandpa, Grandma?" And those who reply yes are those who say "I mingled with a lot of people. I met some terrific people." It is not "I got bonuses. I got stock options." It is really "I mingled with some terrific people." That means that it is the human connection and the human mix that is the nourishment absolutely essential for happiness. Of course, one must be capable of meeting people and getting out of community autism today of virtual communication ...
Interviewer 1: ... social networks. You evoke the stress linked to our lives sometimes a little shaken up by the professional world in particular. Do you have the sentiment precisely that the level of stress rises in people at work in particular?
Vincent Cespedes: Yes. I intervene a lot in companies. Philosophy in companies is more and more sought after. And what is sure is that stress at work is an immense factor, I would say, of misfortune and sadness. Stress is not a bad thing. We should not criticize stress; it is the capacity to adapt to new situations. But when the situations are new all the time and the necessity to adapt sollicits colossal energy resources on the part of individuals, we cannot create meaning, we cannot build relationships together. Stress prevents the creation, I would say, of fraternal bonds. And the sentiment of well-being at work comes from one's involvement in a team, the sentiment that one is useful. It is valid also in school, with our youth in schools. The happiness of going to study, the happiness of learning comes from the idea that I can do it, and that I am useful at that. If we are in a school that is selective and rejects students with a note in red "Can do better", etc., well we have what is the opposite of happiness, not anxiety, but resignation.
Interviewer 2: Precisely, you mentioned that you are more and more sought after by companies. What do you tell these employees? What is the message that you pass to these employees, the employees that are stressed?
Vincent Cespedes: Well, I address bosses in general. It is the bosses that ask in conferences. First of all, my tic is to never betray my message. I have convictions on capitalism, on politics, and what they ask is precisely on happiness. They ask "How does one transform the well-being ‒ and I am talking about bosses ‒ how to transform the well-being at work into performance? And does performance depend on happiness?"
Interviewer 2: So they want practical advice?
Vincent Cespedes: They want very practical advice but they want also a wide perspective, and the idea is that they must obviously trust their employees. It's really about changing the work culture, about creating a culture at work where trust among people becomes a core value. This notion of trust is essential. We live in a complex world, and the great work notably of the philosopher is to transform complexity into trust. It's the work of the 21st century.
Interviewer 1: A last word on the satisfaction index of the French. It is often said that they are in low spirits and when we look at this study from INSEE, it appears that the French note at 6.8 on a scale of 10 their level of satisfaction. It's not so bad.
Vincent Cespedes: It's not so bad, but it's not huge in a country, I would say, with consumer goods with easy reach. It's not huge. There are millions of poor people in France and above all, these surveys are obviously always skewed. I am very wary of the polls because we can very well take anxiolytics day in, day out and say that we are perfectly happy. But we are taking anxiolytics. And we are a nation, you know, that consumes a lot of antidepressants. These are less interesting figures, the consumption of antidepressants. If we are a population of druggers who need to take drugs to feel better, we cannot say that existential satisfaction surveys linked to the ease of consumption are satisfactory. I think that we should rediscover the contribution of the youth. Spending time with the youth brings about happiness. Spending time with children brings about happiness. I think that we should reconcile ourselves with the youth. And I think we should practice optimism. That is, the idea that the future can offer us also better things.
Interviewer 1: That is a beautiful idea. And to find out more, we will refer to your press conference. A press conference that you will give shortly in Paris, at Barrio Latino. It will be on January 29, a conference on optimism. And that is a good plan. Thank you very much Vincent Cespedes.
Vincent Cespedes: Thank you.
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