Category: Writing

It’s easy to be a practised cynic. – Jim Rohn

The realisation that cynicism is also a choice has been a liberating one. Yet, that doesn’t mean that I don’t get cynical at times. Some recent experiences have earned my cynicism, but it’s a heavy burden to bear.

I’m truly grateful that every time such a feeling comes over me, inspiration is always around if I am observant. Two colleagues gave me healthy doses of inspiration with their stories today. Both couldn’t have come from more different circumstances. Both couldn’t have had more different challenges. And both inspired me to change perspective and had me in tears with their stories. Took moments, not hours.

Arthur Brooks was on Dan Pink’s Pinkcast, and his provocation to find ‘real’ friends vs ‘deal’ friends gave me pause. Thinking about it, I have so many “useless” friends. I am indeed blessed.

I wrote for hours yesterday, trying to unravel my emotions, explore my thoughts, and relieve my frustration at work. On a day of rest? Yes, and I was not resting, because of the weight I was carrying around.

The writing helped with all three needs, and a lot more. It showed me alternatives I hadn’t considered before. It helped me discern what I want vs what I need. It lifted my soul.

It was also exhausting. I had no energy left to do a public post. Rather than edit what I had written in my private exposition as a post, I chose to write out a page for my calligraphy.

Later, I was reading through the compendium of feedback on the wonderful A Word A Day subscription. One message grabbed me, and had me reaching for my pen immediately. I wrote out the letter as my evening meditation. The writer’s own reasons for writing reflected Joan Didion’s. They are far more eloquent in expressing those sentiments than I, so I couldn’t help but write it all out in my own hand.

I sent a picture of that meditation to the author last night, to express my gratitude. It may end up in her spam. The exercise of making the effort was what I needed last night, and for that inspiration, I am grateful.

Edit: It reached her! I’m so glad to have received a reply. I seem to have made her day. Her reply has made mine 🙂

The streak of writing broke for two days. Physical and mental exhaustion both caught up before the sun went down and I found myself in bed, wondering why I didn’t write in the morning. Exhaustion, and waking up just in time for work isn’t conducive for writing in the morning.

This sprint has been chequered with ill-health. I’ve managed to consistently do calligraphy and reading. Everything else was secondary. The order in which I’ve thought about the importance of things – “when wealth is lost, nothing is lost; when health is lost, something is lost; when character is lost, everything is lost” doesn’t feel right. Time doesn’t even feature in that idiom that has guided my life. Health’s more important. Time runs out steadily and imperceptibly. Character? Well, at my age, that is a habit now isn’t it? I can’t imagine a different character to what I am now. The idea about wealth.. hmm, maybe it still holds.

Knowing that some feedback loops are long is easy. Being comfortable with long feedback loops is really hard. There are no signals or milestones to suggest what impact ‘today’s things’ have on my life a decade or three from now.  However, one can learn from others.

I began compiling a list of behaviours I’ve seen in many corporate ‘leaders’, and it’s been depressing to read that list. If leadership can be learnt – and it is not sainthood!, there are examples everywhere of what not to do. It’s not often that we get to see a great leader at close quarters, and even less to work for and with one.

Four years of working for one of the best leaders I have known is nearing an end. I’ve been grateful for the opportunity to observe, learn, and to a tiny degree influence their way of the world. The realisation that I too am at a crossroads, can choose whatever I want to pursue next if I choose to, or keep doing what I do because I enjoy it so much is, oddly, terrifying and exhilarating at once.

Some long, hard, journalling hours are ahead of me to make sense of, and feel comfortable with the ideas that are sloshing around in my head. That is why I write.

Day 3 of testing positive. No severe symptoms, besides feeling tired and drowsy.
***

Ideas are the currency that I am most comfortable dealing with but my career didn’t start that way.

I trained to speak the language of money, finance and accounting. I enjoyed the challenge in the early days. I learnt to use the tools of the trade – spreadsheets and accounting software. I’d never taken an interest in computers during my childhood, so it meant I had a steep learning curve. Enjoyable, yet sometimes frustrating.

I soon discovered many other dimensions to the profession of accounting and taxation. Innovation in accounting appeared to be the dance of interpretation of legalese. The intertwining of the professions of accounting and law were mesmerizing. Enobled by statue, the ‘professionals’ had magic dust to make questionable transactions legal. Closer observation revealed tacit formal nods, made easy with the regular greasing of the palms of the executors of the law . These practices, I learnt, were how this business functioned. I began to dislike taxes and accounting and turned to commercial finance. It seemed less grey: helping ‘business’ make commercially sensible decisions.

It was another great learning challenge to see other than through the lens of taxes and accounting. How does a business extract value from a transaction? How do you negotiate terms and prices? What were the implications of the litany of terms that I despised in the legalese I had learnt? How do you build processes and enable systems to keep pace with businesses as they scale up? It was a period of absorption and learning, almost a different language.

*** to be continued.

Hemingway Readability Index: Grade 8

The body under attack by a virus. Lack of sleep. A fluid environment. There’s so many things going on simultaneously and all in sharp immediate focus.

I’ve remained optimistic through all these changes, despite the physical and mental discomfort. Changing to locus of attention outward has remained my favoured approach. It’s imperfect, of course, and yet works better for both my mental health, and outcomes.

By no means is it easy, though. This journal is an endless litany of the same cascade of emotions, ebbing and flowing like the tides. The details may differ. The only constant is the change in tide every so often.

Today feels like the tide has gone out.

At work, structural, even foundational frailities are evident. Feelings and emotions, tied to people, narratives, and desires are in full flow. At home, the isolation and proximity is wearying, and wearing down patience.

Breathe. That’s the best I can do in the moment. Breathe deep.

Hemingway Readability Index: Grade 5

Negative on the first test. Awaiting second PCR test results tonight. It seems inevitable that COVID will infect the household. The hope is that vaccinations will likely temper the effect of the virus. My daughter is the only one so far that isn’t showing any symptoms.

While all that’s going on, I found joy in relearning how to draw/sketch this last week. Pencils and paper. Light and shadow. Perspectives and lines. Observation. Learning to see what I often ignore or take for granted. I want to draw portraits or carricatures of a few close people. It’s given me renewed interest in this art form I so loved as a child/adolescent. Feynman’s story – that he started taking drawing lessons at the age of 44 – was the inspiration I needed.

Friday morning chaos was my excuse for skipping the 6th day of push-up challenge. Instead of doing it later that day, I put it out of my mind. I will re-do week 2, and improve on form. Reading and coding didn’t get attention this week either.

Small things done (or not) every day for long periods of time. That’s what habits are. I will do well to remember that.

Hemingway Index: Grade 4

Aim for Clear, Credible and Persuasive writing, recommends Darius Foroux.   Whether writing for an audience of one or a thousand, the argument holds, and the effects are felt in every other part of life.

It was inevitable: CoVID finally arrived at our doorstep. My 11year old, 3 days into school, returned home with the chills and a fever. The rapid antigen test showed a faint second line, so a second test was done. It confirmed the suspicion.

For the first time in forever, he’s asleep in bed at 7pm. A headache, a slight temperature, occasionally chills, and a runny nose are his current symptoms. Paracetamol is doing its work, and rest will hopefully do the rest.

It also means that all of us too are in isolation for 7 days along with him. Should someone catch it, 7 days from that person. Worst case scenario is a month of isolation for the household.

It wasn’t so long ago that I wrote about everything coming into sharp focus when life throws its challenge. This is yet another one for us.  It wil take its toll for sure, and a stoic approach will help us get through it.

The biggest worry both my wife & I had was what do we do when the milk runs out. Life without milk in the coffee? I don’t think the Stoics had to worry about it 🙂