The wish for mentor

Mentor sounds good. It’s not a guru – where you feel it’s toxic, too much, manipulation. It’s not a guide. It’s maybe in the middle…

It’s not a muse, nor an authority, it’s not a coach, not your parents, or disturbers.

I’m reading Irving Yalom‘s autobiography, where he tells his constant need, during his growing life, for a mentor. An adult person who would have “detected” his uniqueness, his talents, his whatever makes one special…

Then, this person would guide you a little, would show you things you should know, and would probably tell your parents (who aren’t aware, of course).

It’s a cousin-pattern of many things, linked to Types,

  • like the teacher who unblocks you with a single phrase,
  • the uncle who offers you a magnifier (or a telescope),
  • the best friend who marks/scars you forever with a single innocent observation,
  • the soul-mate lover who disturbed you so much you’re reconfigured in the whole of you, or almost.

Wishing you had a mentor is almost a Type in itself : overthinkers, introverts, shy people, book lovers, quiet seekers.

Everybody needs attention and understanders (and I think it’s why some love stories are so intense), good conversation lovers, listeners, good askers. Here, it’s something else, right? Not sure…

Every other helper I listed here can embody the role of the Mentor… one needs. Someone who gets you, even in a 2 seconds sentence,

  1. points you out to others
  2. shows you possible paths (doors, windows)

 

Well, we should NOT need that, but… we do what we can!

Have you met a mentor? Have you been a mentor to a kid? Should you? How?

 

Thanks for reading!

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What do you do in a trustless world?

What do you do in a trustless world?

First of all : is “trustless” even a word? I know how English build/uses words, hence (or therefore) I can invent “trustless”. Voilà. I’m pretty sure to be understood, here.

What do you do in a trustless world?

Hmmm I think you need two different tools, which are a FILTER and a MACHINE.

  1. The Filter is the Comical/Grotesque one. This helps to tolerate, to bear the world around.
  2. The Machine is the wordy one. Accounts, Stories, Tales. This is it. The tendency to tell, to write, to invent ideas or stories from the craziness.

 

Where d’you see that? Which one do you choose? What is efficient, for you? Where does the “I wear a mask” intervene here? Do you hide your filter? Do you hide your machine?

What about this event, this process : “Abandonment of the Mask”? Another article. I know.

Thanks for reading!

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Experiences or Things?

I had a friend who loved to separate concepts. You only could be a “giver” or a “taker”, for example. Which one are you?

These rhetoric traps were funny to detect, as a sign of…. whatever.

Useless it is to say you can be a giver here AND a taker there, AND differently all along the day, useless to say it’s a constant process : life, movements, dance.

With money, should you buy experiences or things?

As if you have to choose between both…

I’d buy experiences AND things. And things which could bring you a great experience : typical : a DVD, a book. And things bought WHILE you’re living a great experience. Etc etc etc.

The constant adaptive dance of life is really great to process and to unfold…

Experiences can make you grow, or give you memories, they change you if they are important. Things can be offered, can trigger experiences, can be source of pleasure. A bottle of Chardonnay wine (thing) is able to illuminate a great experience (the greatest conversation ever, in a summer night). Etc.

The tool and dial and lever here are really easy :

Each time someone summons you to choose between two concepts (it’s very common in companies, in hierarchies), close your mind or catch the double and juggle like with plastic poos : it’s a trap, enclosing you (or trying) between two artificial pincers which don’t even exist. Get out of here, and remember that life is NEVER simple. It’s subtle, fluid, complex, and a joy to activate.

Have a nice day!

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Watzlawick wrote somewhere that when something is bad…

Watzlawick wrote somewhere that when something is bad, the contrary is not necessarily good.

The idea of “choice” is really a problem, right?

  1. If you INSIST, you’ll maybe fail : “More of the Same Thing”, when insisting is a failure
  2. If you QUIT, you’ll maybe fail too. Or succeed. You have to try!

There’s this : if you walk on one path, you’ll never know what you could have discovered on the other one. One just imagines (convinces oneself) it’s the good choice.

In a way, it’s understandable. A choice, and you close a part of your brain. It’s simpler.

The Frenchness in me is a bit mischievous, and tells me that in front of a choice, I’d choose both – “Bake Two Cakes”, or the dangers of segmentarity

But the crux (I just learned this crux word, and I’m happy!) of these problems is Haecceity.

Insist on A and Quit B, and you just close possibilities, that’s all.

Life is not made of A or B, but to plug with possibilities, it’s constantly moving along the day, along days. Therefore big choices (apart of choices like “I quit smoking”, which is obviously clever) are maybe mistakes : one should always be prepared to play with propositions of life. Don’t you think?

But some days, we are tired, I agree.

Have a great day!

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Right Left Brain

Today, “neuroscientists assert that there is no evidence within brain imaging that indicates some people are right-brained or left-brained”.

Well, who cares, right?

What is true is what we see : some people tends to be logical and others tends to be more… colored.

Then, it’s funny to watch how we all struggle to gain on the “other” tendency side…

To be complete, we have to make progress where we’re weaker.

More : we are not still, we are constantly moving. Like Proust’s characters, we don’t even know ourselves really, thus we don’t know others, and we’re pulsing and connecting with possibilities.

“Haecceity” : it’s about Labels on your Forehead

Have a nice day

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On a brilliant day in May, in the year 1868, a gentleman was reclining at his ease on the great circular divan which at that period occupied the centre of the Salon Carre, in the Museum of the Louvre. This commodious ottoman has since been removed, to the extreme regret of all weak-kneed lovers of the fine arts, but the gentleman in question had taken serene possession of its softest spot, and, with his head thrown back and his legs outstretched, was staring at Murillo’s beautiful moon-borne Madonna in profound enjoyment of his posture. He had removed his hat, and flung down beside him a little red guide-book and an opera-glass. The day was warm; he was heated with walking, and he repeatedly passed his handkerchief over his forehead, with a somewhat wearied gesture. And yet he was evidently not a man to whom fatigue was familiar; long, lean, and muscular, he suggested the sort of vigor that is commonly known as “toughness.” But his exertions on this particular day had been of an unwonted sort, and he had performed great physical feats which left him less jaded than his tranquil stroll through the Louvre. He had looked out all the pictures to which an asterisk was affixed in those formidable pages of fine print in his Badeker; his attention had been strained and his eyes dazzled, and he had sat down with an aesthetic headache. He had looked, moreover, not only at all the pictures, but at all the copies that were going forward around them, in the hands of those innumerable young women in irreproachable toilets who devote themselves, in France, to the propagation of masterpieces, and if the truth must be told, he had often admired the copy much more than the original. His physiognomy would have sufficiently indicated that he was a shrewd and capable fellow, and in truth he had often sat up all night over a bristling bundle of accounts, and heard the cock crow without a yawn. But Raphael and Titian and Rubens were a new kind of arithmetic, and they inspired our friend, for the first time in his life, with a vague self-mistrust.

H. James. The American.

When God closes a door…

When God closes a door, He opens a window“.

Yeahhhhh but there’s no “God”, right? Therefore…

I googled it and found :

“When one door closes, another opens”.

Fine, almost like the Coué method, right? And also :

“When one door of happiness closes, another opens; but often we look so long as the closed door that we do not see the one that has been opened for us”.

So, there’s a lazy status (“God takes care of me”), then a methodical hoping process, then an advice, but what advice?…

  1. What if the opened window was a trap, a lure and a ploy?
  2. Or a Wrong Way up?
  3. What if you just have to wait?
  4. What if both stays open?
  5. What if you go outside jumping by the window and you can’t come back?
  6. A door to pass, a window… to look through…

What do you think?

Have a nice day!

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Franck Gohlke, American Photographer

http://www.frankgohlke.com

They call him an “American landscape photographer”.

I saw his name and explored his work a little. I got this sickness which is “my brain begins to move, to be touched, but I don’t know or understand by what”.

Therefore I go on lurking…

What does he show? “Man altered landscapes”. I let you decide what is the mood you find here.

Probably beyond words, right?

Have a nice day!

new-housing-development-benbrook-texas-foto-di-frank-gohlke-1963-1No.8grainelevator_missoulagrainelevator_minneapolisNo.12No.14Frank Gohlke; Breezedale, Rocky River, Ohio, 1997.No.19