In the early days there’s almost no distinction between those able to make a dent in the universe and those who will not. At some point, it all seems plausible for anyone, most of people part of a business, sport or scholar group seem all candidates to become outliers. It’s in the unpleasant moments when the gap gets bigger, it’s also in these moments where the unconventional, the underdogs and the abnormal people shine.
PG has a magnificent chapter in his book Hackers & Painters about why nerds students are more likely to become outliers in comparison with popular students. At least in the tech industry, PG’s assumption seems to be right. Anyone who has experienced the feeling of separateness is able to embrace in a deeper level the solitude and its surroundings. I believe it’s this isolation what helps to craft the best writers, painters, musicians, mathematicians, physicists, inventors and entrepreneurs, it’s solitude what helps them come up with the breakthroughs that guide humanity.
Some of us were not born with a natural talent: we struggle everyday to achieve a high level of concentration, we establish a rude fight between what we really want and what others tell us to do, we learn by making lots of mistakes and by hurting people, we tend to believe this inner quest, which could be seem as a sickness, is what lead us to ask ourselves every day whether or not we are doing the right decision not only for us but for anyone else we can affect.
Brilliance must be earn, I know it’s not easy, I’m far from it, I know there’s hope though.
There are times I read some people are capable of working hard during excessive periods of time while maintaining a sharp focus. Other times I read how silly it’s the idea of overworking. I think each one of us feels more comfortable following one of the previous paths, some others, mainly researchers, argue people that sleep less are less productive while others like Elon Musk support the idea of long working hours.
Although I tend to support working long journeys, I have to accept that recently I have felt my productivity diminished by one quarter of my day. In those occasions, I constantly ask to myself whether I need to sleep more. It turns out that at least to me it’s a matter of both organization and caring.
When a night before I plan what are the important things I will do during the next day I perform better. Everytime I sense that I feel more effective working during the afternoons, I then change my schedule of the gym from afternoons to mornings. It’s definitely hard to maintain a high level of focus or performance every day, not to say every month of the year. In order to find the drive that makes me remember it’s a marathon and not a sprint, I have learned that whenever you care about what you are doing, you’ll find the strength to write that last line of code, answer that email it arrived late in the night or follow the principles you and your teammates defined as your company’s culture when reaching a hard choice. It’s caring what makes you enjoy strategizing about your company’s future on a saturday afternoon while having a cup of coffee.
Cada ser humano ya sea de manera individual o colectiva tiene sus demonios. Este domingo, me tomaron por asalto un grupo de fantasmas que aparecen cuatro años.
La sensación no es desconocida, más bien, conforme avanzó el día logré darle definición propia: "es similar a cuando, después de las primeras citas, la niña que te gusta te dice: prefiero que seamos amigos".
Así, en una especie de sube y baja, a mí, como a muchos otros me llegó la depresión por unas horas.
A pesar de eso, segundos después de que México perdiera el partido contra Holanda, no pude sino pensar en una analogía de los 90 minutos en relación a la vida personal, en la que muchas veces cuando damos el primer golpe, damos por sentado que la victoria está dada, dejamos de poner atención a los detalles y son esas pequeñas discrepancias las que determinan el resultado final. De cada uno depende jugar sus 90 minutos al máximo rendimiento.
He tenido una gran semana, coronada por un viaje en carretera de ida y vuelta de más de 1000 km, adornada por el caluroso reencuentro con viejos amigos y la esperanza que te brinda el conocer otras personas que, como uno, quieren dejar su marca en el mundo.
Entonces, desde el exterior, se enriquece la perspectiva de lo que uno está haciendo, quizá en primera instancia en comparación con lo que uno encuentra a un lado suyo, pero conforme los minutos avanzan uno entiende que la mejor medida comparativa es aquella reflejada contra uno mismo: lo que se era 12 meses atrás con lo que se es 12 meses después.
El camino, entonces, deja de ser corto o largo y se convierte en infinito; para disfrutarlo, me tomo de la mano con la esperanza y dejo que mi rostro se inunde de optimismo.
There's a strange feeling that sometimes assaults me after hanging out on weekends. It tends to happen this way: I am with a couple of friends in a party, there's good music, drinks are served, dancing seems to crown the scene and suddenly, for a millisecond everything gets darks in my mind and a voice raises the question: Is this really what you want to do?
My mind walks away a short but intense passage and I prefer not to acknowledge any answer.
Perhaps, as many people point out, as we grow up we understand that what causes the most headaches is the fear of missing out and not what it's gained.
Nowadays is common to hear that less is more and everybody seems to agree. From industrial designers to politicians, everyone knows that in order to achieve a brilliant performance, it's compulsory to focus on a small number of things we can do much better than most of our peers. Nonetheless, the crude truth is that most of us have a hard time not only figuring out what that activity where we wanna shine is but also how to face the trade-off between one activity and the other.
Along the year I have made countless efforts to empty my mind trying to prioritize my goals, none of them have survived a 7 days trial period. I end up with more activities than time I can devote to each one of them. I get annoyed and frustrated and lately I get more tired and less efficient.
Today I read that uncertainty encompasses freedom. I started to wonder whether the definition could apply to me or not and it does. Nonetheless, for the sparks of creative disruption to appear, sometimes we need to create some constrains, we need to wrap ourselves and commit to a greater purpose than our own personal goals.
So, I will try to do it. I'll craft the list of activities I will love to be remembered for and will cut it by half once and again until I get I refined list of things I can do during the next six months.
I have read over a dozen of times how hard it is to build a company. There are times you wake up at seven o'clock and it feels like you are as tired as the night before or even more. You realize half of your day it's truly hard to achieve the focus you had the first twelve months and every single time you look at the revenue figures, you wonder whether one day the efforts will pay off.
Recently, I ask myself everyday whether or not I'm burning out. When friday arrives I wonder where there's all the people I used to know. So, I tend to stay at home longer doing a mix of reading and coding. Sometimes I go out to the cinema on sunday's morning -with my sister. My biggest excuse to my recent closeness is that I have so many things to learn/do that I have to put all my time on this endless endeavor.
Last month I made an attempt to match Elon Musk's 100 hours week/work and found out I was barely able to do as many as 58 working hours.
Money from investors is expected to arrive next month but I have the feeling the deal could break up.
Cuando te das cuenta de las veces que dijiste no y quisiste decir sí
Cuando te das cuenta que la chica de la mesa de enfrente no ama a su novio
Cuando te das cuenta que estás solo dentro de un mundo que está acompañado con el fin de no enfrentar su soledad
Cuando te das cuenta que el alcohol hace que las personas miren al pasado, odien su presente y se olviden del futuro
Cuando te das cuenta que enfrentar tus miedos no se basa solamente en leer libros de auto-ayuda
Cuando te das cuenta que no deseas darte cuenta de nada mas
I was trying to think what to write you, what to share with you, what to place on your eyes and how to congratulate you for your birthday, nevertheless I did not get more inspiration except for writing a couple of lines devoted to my birthday one day before yours.
I was reading a book, an essay about life and about magic, a bunch of memories talking about the past that if translated a couple of years ahead, they also represent the future in its full beauty.
Lately I tend to write in spanish, nevertheless sometimes when writing in english, I think different, I behave different and as a result I am more human, more error prone and perhaps more brave.
In any case, even when my physical eyes have not seen you, my internal eyes, the ones covered by a river's blood surrounding my heart have seen you. I am not expecting anything different from you apart from provoking a huge smile that translates into a shocking amusement that hits your whole body starting from the most candid side of your hips and ending at the tip of your very diametrical lips. Lips that I wanna touch, lips that I will break apart, lips that I want them to sing me songs, lips that I wan to own, lips that I wanna write on them that they pertain to me before, after and now.
Perhaps I'll never meet you, perhaps I'll meet you tomorrow, perhaps I'll let me conquer by you, perhaps you'll allow me haunting you. I don't know, I have no idea but at the same time I'm full of ideas.
Happy birthday to you strange, happy birthday to you mad girl, happy birthday to you powerful bunch of emotions, nerves and flesh that makes me desire you, that makes me remind you, that makes me wanna offer my soul and body to you, that makes me think of you, that makes me wanna paint on you, that makes me ask where and how are you, that makes wanna do stupid things next to you, that makes wanna led by you, that makes me write all of this in less than ten minutes only and exactly to YOU.
Written on April 17th, 2014
Por la luz que penetra las cortinas de mi habitación todos los días
Por los gallos que anuncian que la luna está a punto de morir
Por el golpe de energía que provoca una taza de café
Por las imágenes rebobinadas llenas de parques y castillos, de lagos y villas girando sin fin
Por las cartas que le escribe el corazón al cerebro y las señas que éste le manda al corazón
Porque crecer es un acto, una osadía, un experimento y una devoción
La soledad cuando son cerca de las 20:00 horas sin saber qué voy a cenar.
La soledad de viajar cada fin de semana de Pue a DF o viceversa, en un asiento individual
La soledad de dormir en una cama con una sola almohada.
La soledad de revivir imágenes cuando camino de madrugada.
La soledad de desayunar acompañado de una pared.
La soledad que te hace preguntas sin parar.
La soledad que te brinda tiempo para crear.
La soledad que te ayuda a valorar.
Hacía ya algunos meses, no sé cuantos, que no sentía el desazón que provoca el alcohol en exceso. Cierro los ojos y un ligero mareo se hace dueño de la parte derecha de mi cerebro, sé que no tengo oportunidad de vencerlo, así que comienzo a pasar imágenes que esclarezcan a mi razón, los detalles de la noche anterior.
Entonces recuerdo: una pulsera en reventa por treinta pesos, mi tarjeta de débito en la bolsa de Viri, los vasos de cerveza de poco más de un litro que ordené, los quince pesos de cambio que no le dí a Citlali, un proyectil en forma de vaso que probablemente contenía orines golpeando de lleno el costado de mi abdomen derecho, un hotdog que comí al salir, un raspón consecuencia de la fricción entre el suelo y mi rodilla derecha cuando intenté cargar a Viri al salir, Esteban tomando cerveza cuando la odia, Julio ocupando el carril del metrobus al salir, Karla dormida como piedra luego de subirse al coche y hasta un amigo de la preparatoria que no veía desde hace quizá una década.
Mientras mi alma regresa a mi cuerpo, me pregunto: ¿y si esta fuera la última vez que bebo en exceso?
Octavio Paz señala en su obra El laberinto de la soledad:
"El mexicano, según se ha visto en las descripciones anteriores, no trasciende su soledad. Al contrario, se encierra en ella".
Querido Octavio que me lees en otro espacio y quizá otro tiempo, estoy disfrutando tus pensamientos, descubriendo el camino que tú y muchos otros recorrieron; camino que está mutando; camino -que 63 años después de tu gran obra- vocífera con toda la pasión del mexicano que recuerdas, que existen mexicanos que han trascendido y muchos otros que están trascendiendo su soledad.
Yo me arriesgaría con tal de morir de alegría,
destrozar tus labios de noche y de día,
yo lo intentaría aunque implicase mi agonía,
marcar tu boca y su cartografía,
yo, aunque sea por un instante, te enamoraría.
¿Qué es de mí? Más bien, ¿qué es de tí?
De tus tatuajes y tus ideas radicales.
De tus esperanzas y tus expectativas por cumplir.
De tus ganas de ser lo que tu padre espera de tí.
De tus propósitos que luego de 7 días sigues sin cumplir.
De tus senos que te fastidian.
De tus dolores de cabeza que juegan contigo al dormir.
De tus cicatrices y tus huellas indelebles que llevas impresas en tí.
Te suprimí en el verano del 2006.
Creí, como creemos todos, que regresarías.
Caminé, corrí, bebí, volé y me entendí.
En el verano del 2010, regresaste pero yo no estaba allí.
El martes pasado, luego de leer tus cartas -esas que nunca te dí-, te volví a suprimir.