Author: Ricardo

 Today, a wise man told me to be comfortable with not knowing exactly what to do next.  The advice today was to resist the “Blue” energy in me, the piece of me that likes lists and steps and processes.  More and more, I am learning to turn down that side of me.  Although it commands a good deal of my energy, the truth is…it drains me.  And that was my big revelation today, post-advice.  

I thought about what he said for a while after we hung up the phone, and I realized that this part of me that requires the steps to be written out isn’t a part that I enjoy all that much.  I have it turned up way too high, and I understand now that I have to turn it down a few notches.  There is a time to navigate by landmarks and a time to navigate by step-by-step directions.  Now is the time to look for landmarks.

I use the landmark analogy because after I hung up the phone with my wise and caring mentor, I went upstairs and picked up one of the books I am reading.  I just bought “Unfolding the Napkin,” Daniel Roam’s follow up to his book “The Back of the Napkin.”  In the intro to the book, Daniel uses the example of getting from point A to point B in a city in a foreign country.  There are four ways that someone can tell you how to get where you are going: by giving you a “narrative” set of instructions (walk to the river, hang a right, walk until you get to the gas station, turn left…); by giving you step-by-step directions (left on Fourth, Right on Walsh, left on Washington, right on Main…); by giving you a map (highlighting the best path on a literal map); and by giving you a significant landmark to walk towards (like the tallest building in town because point B is right next to it).  Reading the example made me think about what I want right now: a landmark.  I want the biggest freakin’ landmark in the city.  I just need to build it.

That’s really the point, isn’t it?  We all need a landmark.  We might have a preference in terms of how we get there, but, in the end, it’s a landmark that provides us with focus.  And it’s a landmark that we need to build for ourselves.  Nobody else will build it for you.

“Do not wish to be shiny like jade
Be dull like rocks.”
        — Lao Tzu

I took the stone out of the bag. It was one of many similar stones. They were about an inch in diameter, white, and man-made. Woman-made, actually. From the comments coming from others who had already taken their stone, there was a word on one side of the stone. I didn’t look down. Instead, I just stuck my hand in the bag and randomly pulled out a stone. I took it out and closed my fist around it. I love randomness, serendipity at work. The Universe provides precisely what we need when we need it. At minimum, we guide ourselves to exactly the place we need to be at the moment we need to be there. Like the basement of a building between Madison and Park Avenues.

I held it in my closed fist for a second or two. Then, I opened it. I looked down at the stone. There was a ridge along the back of the stone. The stone itself was made from that stuff that’s like modeling clay that you bake so it hardens. I could see the skin imprint of someone’s palm. The stone was obviously made by hand. Still, I could feel something in it. The Universe was ready to speak to me.

One of the things I’ve learned in my life is that the Universe doesn’t discriminate when selecting a vehicle for its messages. We resonate much more strongly, thus experience much more deeply, those vehicles that take the form nature herself. All messages, though, come in loud and clear.

I turned the stone over. The other side was smooth, glassy. It was covered in a thin layer of greenish-yellow glaze. There was a star both above and below a single word. In stamped script, I saw the word, “Charge.”

Charge? What the f…? Not sure how to interpret that one.

I looked again. Oh…not “Charge”…it said, “Change.” Change! Yes! Change! Change was something I could understand. Change made sense. It was something that I was already feeling. The day had been filled with so many wonderful surprises, so many delights, and so many messages in the form of so many wonderful, beautiful people.

Yes, Change. Change, indeed.

It wasn’t until weeks later that I took the stone out of my coat pocket and put it on my desk at work. I propped it up under my monitor so I could see it every day. “Change,” it says. Looking at it again on my desk, I saw the word “Charge” again. Charge. That is what I saw the first time. That is what, I now believe, I was meant to see. That was my message: Charge! Change was obvious; Charge much less so. Change was inevitable, but the idea of charge…that battle cry, that leading intent…that was not inevitable. And THAT is precisely why I needed to see the both.

Change and charge are at the heart of the book we all received the day after the gift of the stones. There is no change if I do not charge forward, if I do not lead the charge myself. Courageously. Completely. Compellingly.

Lead the charge for change, even if only within yourself. To me, that was the message I received through the gift of the stone.

Thank you for the stone.

“Uh-oh. Here comes That Guy….”

“Uh-oh. Here comes That Lady….”

We all know one of them. They are the people who, when you see them coming, you feel like running for the hills. You roll your eyes. You sigh deeply. You pretend that you were getting up to go somewhere important. You feign illness. You pass out. You hide under your desk. You don a disguise.

You know the person; you know the feeling.

Have you ever considered that you, quite possibly, might be That Guy or That Lady for someone else? For a group of someone elses? It’s possible; it’s probable. Your approach just might be the low point in another person’s day. Not fair, is it? Maybe they don’t know you. Maybe they don’t even try to get to know you. Maybe you are just following orders. Or maybe you are just living into your role at work. Or maybe you behave the way you do around them because of the way they behave towards you! I mean, you’ve got friends, right? You’ve got family that adores you, right? You’ve got someone who is so happy to see you sometimes that they giggle…actually giggle…when they see you coming! Maybe it’s all about that other person, huh? Maybe they are the ones with the problem, not you!

Have you ever considered that the person you dread is a parent? A spouse? Someone’s child or sibling or best friend? Chances are that they have people who love being with them as much as you dislike it. Does that mean those other people are idiots? Or does it mean that maybe, just maybe, there’s something in you that keeps you from being able to see what all those other people see when That Guy or That Lady walk into a room. What are the chances of that? Or, once again, maybe they are the ones with the problem, not you!

It’s not easy to love everyone with whom you come into contact. It’s not easy to like all of them. It’s not easy to shutdown your filters and assume positive intent. Putting up with everyone else can be hard work. But it is easy for everyone else to put up with you. It is easy to forget that everyone has story. That every moment has a preceding moment, a preceding experience to which you may not be privy. That everyone has bad days, bad weeks, and bad months. Just like you. Bad deal, huh?

It’s a good thing you get to choose your behaviors. It’s a good thing you get to decide how you are going to treat others. It’s a good thing that you get to determine your actions and reactions. It’s a good thing that you have the ability to influence how others see you. The world wouldn’t be very fair otherwise.

Depending on who you are and where you are standing, the world is filled with idiots and jerks. Under the right circumstances, you are one of them. All you have to do is choose your way around those circumstances!

“The great arises out of small things that are honored and cared for.  Everybody’s life really consists of small things. Everybody’s life really consists of small things.  Greatness is a mental abstraction and a favorite fantasy of the ego.  The paradox is that the foundation for greatness is the honoring of the small things of the present moment instead of pursuing the idea of greatness.”  — Eckhart Tolle

 Nothing in this physical universe lasts forever.  That’s the lesson of impermanence.

If you can appreciate and accept this fact, then nothing that happens to you, bad or good, should live too long in your mind.  The Chinese philosopher and teacher Lao Tzu was a huge advocate of not resting on ones laurels.  Understanding that even the greatest victories are short-lived is key to understanding impermanence.  Likewise, understanding that even the greatest tragedies are overcome with time is also key to understanding impermanence.  Intellectually, it is a very simple concept to grasp.  Again, nothing lasts forever.

But we all fall victim to this idea that our suffering is insurmountable and so uniquely special as to be incomprehensible by others.  Our suffering sets us apart.  It reinforces our feelings of aloneness.  And it is strengthened by our failure to remember the principle of impermanence: nothing lasts forever.  That includes suffering, whether we like it or not.  We all have known moments of suffering that we have consciously or unconsciously prolonged simply because it plays to the “victim” mentality.  We forget impermanence and cling to what makes us unhappy.

The good and bad in life ebb and flow like a great spiritual tide throughout our lives.  Acknowledgment that all things change, including that which we wish would not, is a step towards acceptance of what is.  Acceptance and surrender are different.  I do not advocate surrendering to the tide.  In fact, I would advocate navigating the tides.  What I do advocate is acceptance of those moments when things to do not go according to our plans, when times are tough.  In these moments, we are best served remembering that nothing in this world of form will last forever.  

Embrace impermanence.  Do not fear it.  Embrace it and know that every moment is a gift that builds upon the other experiences of your life.  Alone, we may judge them as good or bad, but together…together they are your life.  What is more beautiful than that?

 Philosophically speaking, there is a great deal of wisdom in the concept of dependent origination.  Simply stated, all things flow into one another.  This moment has its roots in the moments before it.  It is also an antecedent to the moments to come.  That is the idea in a few nutshells.

Common sense, right?  Before the present, there was the past.  In the past, each moment was the present with a preceding moment being the past to the first moment.  As you read this, the words you have read are the past.  The words that I have already written (which I haven’t really written because I am writing this as I write this) are ahead.  You can see the page filled with them.  I assume this because, again, as I write this, the words are not there.  They will be there when you read this, though.

And this is the whole point.  You cannot have a now without a then.  You cannot have a tomorrow without a today.  There is always a moment preceding this one.  We all know this to be true.  It is the very fabric of our reality, our perception of time.

Yet, we have no evidence that time truly passes as we have been taught.  It is quite possible that the present moment is the only moment, held eternally in place.  All that varies is our perception of the changes in nature.  We explain it as time, but it is possible that all we observe is the constant natural degradation and alteration of every thing in the Universe.  There is no time.

Even if we take time out of the equation, there is action.  Action is always based on previous action.  All anticipated action can be predicted based on current action and preceding action.  Nothing we do right now is wholly independent of other things that we have already done.  Thus, the current moment, the current action, is dependent on previous action.  This is an example of dependent origination.

Grasping dependent origination is important because of one simple reason: we ignore it.  We ignore the fact that nothing existence independently of everything.  Somewhere, there is a point of origin for every phenomena we observe, every activity we undertake, every decision we make.  We have this tendency to believe that the actions of others are random, unpredictable.  In reality, they are not random, and they are very predictable.  If we can accept this, then anything we observe can be traced back to an origin, to some moment that was the genesis of the series of events leading to that which we observed.  Thus, we can find the root of all action.  This is an important point and should stand alone as a sentence:

     We can find the root of all action.

Every event, every action can be linked to a causal antecedent.  We need not fear seemingly random acts of violence.  We need not despair at misfortune.  We need not rage at the countless injustices heaped upon us by a jilted lover or a vengeful spouse.  We need not ask, “Why me?”

Why me?  Well, why not?  Who better than you?

If you want to know why, look for the cause.  Note the preceding moments.  Understand the circumstances.  Above all else, learn.  Learn and do not let these things repeat themselves.

Nothing happens spontaneously.  Everything happens for a reason.  Seek to gain knowledge of the reason.  Understand dependent origination as a mechanism that moves the Universe.

 Sounds dirty, but it’s not.  At least not this time.

Fast is a great pace at which to operate.  It’s just hard to sustain.  Fast and hard…again, sounds dirty, but it’s not…are even harder to sustain.  We are creatures of finite energy, and we must choose how to direct that energy.  Without repose, we eventually burn out.

Repose is the key to everything.

Fast then slow…

A few slow days, moments to rest and recuperate, are essential to sanity and physical well-being.  Once the balance one finds from a slower tempo is attained, then it’s off to the races again.

Fast and hard.

If you are going to do it, then do the heck out of it.  Do it passionately.  Do it emphatically.  Do it with that reckless abandon I’ve talked about before.  Do it fast and hard.

Lather.  Rinse.  Repeat.

I feel like I over-exerted my brain. I am, as they say, brain-fried.

One of the nice things about being brain-fried is that you hardly notice you are brain-fried. The realization tends to come when you try to think about something heady and worthwhile. You try, but you can’t. Your head might hurt (as mine does). At minimum, your thoughts are foggy. You might call them murky, at best. Try as you might, your thoughts don’t race. It’s more like they schlep their way through your boggy mind.

Another nice thing about being brain-fried is that it is usually a good indicator that you have exerted considerable emotional energy in some activity that required your full, undivided attention. This is a good thing. Sure, you may have gone down in flames, but you were 100% “there”…fully invested in whatever you were doing. And chances are that the pursuit of…whatever it was that you were doing…was in some way vital to your life. Few things demand more of you than the work of your life.

The opportunity to spend 4 out of the last 7 days working as hard as I have on exercising skills that I consider newly-emerging has been an incredible blessing. The two venues that presented themselves to me were different, with different players, different desired outcomes, and different requirements. The scope of each engagement was drastically different. The number of people I worked with was different. The results were different, and the levels of success attained were different. Each was so completely different from the other…

Yet, together, they were the same: opportunities to move others towards achieving a common goal. The stakes are high when you raise your hand and tell another that you can help them facilitate a challenging conversation, but, when successful, the reward…the reward is invigorating.  Brain-fried and invigorated…what a pair.

In case you were wondering, in the short term “brain-fried” prevails.

When you go outside on a typical hot, muggy Puerto Rican night, you are greeted by the chirping sounds of the unofficial ambassador of Puerto Rico, the coqui.

The coqui is a small tree frog that lives all over the island of Puerto Rico. Modern myth says that the coqui is unable to live anywhere else in the world but Puerto Rico.  While romantic, it is a common misconception.  Stories are told of failed attempts to maintain coqui’s in captivity elsewhere, failed attempts at keeping them as pets, and failed attempts at transplanting them to other tropical locals. In fact, the coqui has invaded the Hawaiian Islands and is a source of great consternation for many of its inhabitants.

The coqui is a difficult animal to keep alive in captivity because it is very attuned to the climate of Puerto Rico. There is popular poem , “El Oracion del Coqui” or “The Prayer of the Coqui,” in which the coqui begs God to take care of the coqui’s little Caribbean island because, “As you well know, I cannot live anywhere but here.” There is nothing more symbolic of the heart and soul of Puerto Rico than the coqui.

 I am not an economist.  I do not pretend to be well-versed in financial matters.  I have an MBA, but I can’t say that I’ve grasped the micro and the macro of it.  What I have always known is that indefinite growth is impossible and that an expanding economy isn’t sustainable.  Duh, right?  We all sort of figured that one out.

What, then, should become the new measure of economic value?  How do we measure success?  For decades, growth and profit have been the Holy Grail of individual business and of the larger economy.  But if we can all agree that growth doesn’t last forever and that the quest to push the envelope of growth will only lead to compression, collapse, and contraction, then what model should we hold up for the developing nations of the world, for the emerging economies?  

It troubles me that, as we export jobs to the developing world in the hopes of lowering the cost of production and providing services, these receiving economies begin to grow.  They begin to take on the characteristics of our old ways.  They begin the pursuit of what will ultimately become unsustainable growth.  So, are we just exporting a failing, untenable vision of economic success?  Are we pushing these fragile economies towards a model that can only end in disaster?

Is there another way?

I don’t know.  I’m not an economist.  I simply observe and wonder aloud if we can define a new measure of success…