Why is that? Why are other people’s problems my problems? Are we all together in this? How can we be together in this if I don’t know who they are, why are we here? If I can’t feel them as I can feel my body. Do my toenails know about my hair? Do my fingers know about my heart? 70-438
Somewhere I read: I often wonder if life is easier for other people or if they are better at faking it.
I get to the outskirts of the city and I see all those buildings, and it’s not the big sprawling of tiny houses that bothers me, it’s the big, huge buildings and the tiny flickering lights that make me think of ants, and working bees, and insignificant little lives, with anonymous problems. I just can’t tell if I’m scared because I know that deep down, I’m just one more working bee, in the middle of its working life. Dead and forgotten already, in the grand scheme of things. Maybe I’m scared for all those little bee people I imagine, living in horrible places that I’ll never see, but that I can sort of imagine, because they are in a way, just like mine. With that weird kitchen smell that kitchens other than your own have. With their children and their laundry and their skid marks in the WC. With their fights and flat screens and unpaid bills and salary rises and sudden unemployment. Why do I care about them? Why won’t they ever know that I am here, trying to imagine who they are? MB2-701
(Una versión de este artículo en español) In class they have recommended us this book, Visionary Business. It has been tremendously useful for me (except for the last chapter, which deals with the author’s personal utopia). It has helped me imagine my business model. You can read the beginning in Amazon. One of the things
First of all, congratulations to María (one of our partners) who yesterday got a very promising job. I am particularly proud of this fact because I helped her with her CV. Hey, that’s a 100% success rate (three out of three) 🙂 So, about our lessons… we have spent our last two sessions speaking about
I’m a bit of a Hobbit. I like to see things grow, little by little. I like routines (and escaping them: but I find them comfy). I like it when I run out of something and I buy exactly the same one again, I get the impression that I was right the first one. My