WINNING without a CHANCE.
If an individual goes through dire ills and surmounts them, why we are not celebrating such a character? Why? As soon as somebody overcomes hardship and goes into prosperity, people speculate about him. Are these also the traits of our nature? That’s why, in your self-abusing, I’ve found how obnoxious it is to hear your loud self-fantasy:
“When I look at myself, I see an ugly man. So, if I feel my appearance is so bad, I have to act in that way. I will cut all enormities by a sharp blade and punish my brackish body. I will destroy my face and become a skeleton with streams of hot blood flowing over my corpus. And then, I’ll toss myself to fly above strange cities. I’d dismay crowded streets and squares, which will just turn to turmoil and panic. My wish, with delirious discontent, is to run over handsome outsiders. I should set places in the sullen, lonesome trash. And while I soar above you, my voice must sound like a violent, thunderous squall. I am dread and pus from a canker on your flippant tongues, hissing about my eyesore!” Isn’t that a sad imagination? Or maybe you’ve seen enough horror films and have entered the role of this kind of insane—can you get out of it? No, I believe whatever you say. I think if at least one person slopes down so low and surrenders to his weakness, not only he alone, but the whole of humanity suffers. So stop humiliating yourself. I see it’s implicit that someone should help you. And if my first recommendation about exercises before a mirror with self-questioning and the story about happy survivor Jeff is not working, then let me write you a letter. I’ll tell everything about yourself. Pay attention to the notes I send to you by regular, direct mail. Open an envelope and pretend we are reading it together. Let’s go:
My dear, not the ugly man. I’ll never grade you as a freak. Rather, I’ll nominate you as an attractive individual for many reasons. I’ve known you for a long time and can insist that you belong to the planetary consciousness that stands higher than horror messes. And, if for a while, your flight of the imagination makes you feel under par, visualize and take part in one event.
Your location is the center of an endless square. Around you aren’t any high steel towers or abandoned places. You hear traffic and see only one construction that amazes you. There’s an improbable, extended spotlight aimed at you. It beams a mighty stream upon and through you. Your psyche becomes overwhelmed by the show of millions of beam bulbs. They are in a variety of colors and sizes and don’t scare you, but you are astonished. It’s not the heat of fever you feel, but only the extreme joy all these lights fill your heart with. Minutes later, you understand it as the largest scene you have ever seen. Even for a moment, you thought maybe God himself set such a bright searchlight on you. Let’s believe, maybe. But also, let’s accept that somebody wants to penetrate your soul and body by intense brightness. As you wonder, you understand that “somebody” wants to give you a conceivable gift. You must change your character and for the rest of your days forget about the dark world, adoring only the big light. Have you pictured such an event? I hope yes.
Also, like a regular person, let me disagree with the reality of monsters. I assume such presences are considered to be sick brains that need help.
I’m confident you can get away from this. Yes, just stop playing the role of the contrived drain theater. Better open your eyes, and with ease, you will meet real ogres walking among us. They are ego-trippers, curmudgeons, murderers, thieves, rapists, pedophiles, and crooked, reckless politicians who do not accord primary pity to the simple crowd. I bet you know talking about goodness with anyone from that world makes no sense. But with you, it is possible to talk about the light. Can you dare to say, “Will I disgrace myself ever? No. I’ll act only with self-respect. From now on, I stride with optimism toward a victory over oneself!”
We all understand gracefulness. But only a few of us can overcome self-flagellation. I want you to become a great gentleman, and you are already that man. When I see in the depths of your eyes, I catch the shining warmth of a bright rainbow. I trust you will compose a prosperous tomorrow by running various noble deeds. But I would like to ask you: can you, by the muscles of your arms, rescue others? I’m sure you can. And I would like to ask: can the strength of your legs guide you over difficult miles to successful breakthroughs?
Again, I have confidence in you. And I want you to accept confirmation by my truthful remarks:
People often respect other people for being who they are.
The winners over bad addictions always exclaim, “Eureka!”
I am just pleased to see the enjoyment of your happiness about your
PERSONAL TOP-OLYMPUS—the merit of self-victory!
Would you like to rethink what human ugliness is?
Isn’t it attention-grabbing to discover yourself and your ability to do valuable actions which change your
SELF-OPINION?
Has the self-confidence produced in your heart a song
TO PRAISE YOURSELF?
Do you need the drive to make high-toned steps
for WINNING WITHOUT a CHANCE?
Do any of us have the imagined peak of conquest atop
PERSONAL TOP-OLYMPUS?
10. Thorny Days
When a bunch of troubles strike as one shot, you are in a feverous condition to look for help in the
ADVICE from FRIENDS
CALMING-DOWN CURE
ENTIRE NEW MAN
but you could also wonder how retrospective and introspective events could bring you not just back, but to the course of self-discovery.
Impersonation.
It is much harder to stay optimistic when you receive the most hateful insults. I met the oldest man I had ever seen. He was around ninety and narrated many interesting episodes of his life experiences. After finishing the last one, he said, “Smart news never lies, and that is the truth.” Only much later I found this adage suitable for many situations. And my conclusion was that I can’t afford any nonsense in my behavior because everything that has happened is just a fact. However, my opinion originated support by a portentous story.
“I have known my acquaintance, Mike, for over ten years though we have never grown closer to becoming friends. He is a very interesting and intelligent man. During the last days of his employment, it was like a disappearance. But the next Thursday, I met him in the office and realized he had undergone a significant change. He looked like an outsider and presented a mix of self-confidence and amusement. I shared with him my feelings about his new look, which was dissimilar from his earlier image. He suggested that we should get together for dinner. So, at the restaurant, when we were served the house dish with a glass of tasteful Spanish Merlot, he told me an atypical story. It was a monologue, and I didn’t ask him questions. But the tale was more than exciting. So, he narrated:
“Just tell me, would you stay calm if, like a bullet, you were fired from a high-paying job? Oh, I know my rights. We see the fake happiness of employment in movies, but the reality is poignant to savor. Yes, I agree I shouldn’t flaunt the company’s policies—like, ‘Do not talk about politics during working hours.’ But I have been managing work on personal issues. I thought I’d be able to handle everything. The next punch was losing my dearest cousin. He had an awful car accident and died in the hospital. I didn’t even cry when I plunged into a terrible divorce. And the reason was as banal as stinking trash. I received an anonymous letter about my cheating wife. She attended a psychic who heals by using extrasensory energy. But his son felt a jealousy about their sessions. First, he wanted to save his parents’ marriage. Second, besides his father, he also had fallen in love with my wife, and as evidence, he provided pictures full of facts. When I showed this to my cutie, she tumbled into an emotional breakdown. Afterward, we filed for divorce. Isn’t all that ridiculous? To finish, my doctor dropped a hint on a recent visit that if I disagree with preparation to remove my right kidney, it could be life-threatening. So, what do you think of me? I guess you suppose, ‘If a person under such circumstances considers himself a l
oser, he has the strength to calm down.' But I am exhausted these days to the death. My worry today is how to keep myself together. And as it angered me increasingly, I didn’t refuse advice from anyone. Man, I even called you too, but your phone was always busy. I stopped talking about my problems when nobody ever shared my grief. Sorry, never. When you are alone with constant pain, only years of maturity can help. Yes, people often illustrate their wretched concern, but do it in reluctant ways because it’s not associated with empathy. It vibrates as the jammed anguish of abraded phrases: do not show your madness to anyone and crush no one. Use no gun or any lethal weapon. Do not panic. Contrive no deceit or dirt against reasonable persons. And do not drop into despair. You can meet many obliged don’ts from different people. Now it’s clear, what pushed me to stop looking for advice?”
As Mike paused, my mind recalled an experience with a similar brother’s help. Perhaps, it doesn’t sound appreciative, but my sibling pretended to be involved. It looked like he prefered to be a thousand miles from me. It meant my problems were equal only to my solutions. So, don’t expect help without knowing what it is and ask yourself:
Would you agree that only in a dilemma we look for sane support?
Would be it correct if we don't seek emotional complicity?
Why do we hunt for a soul mate at the exact time of the crash? That's why aid from relationships or
ADVICE from FRIENDS shows only apathy.
I stopped my internal contemplating to the point when Mike continued, “In the middle of August, I rethought all events. As I knew myself, my temper was explosive, and it wasn’t wise to make any judgments. I pushed myself to conclude that I should stop being offended by the entire world. I only hoped to find an answer to what was next and how to discover it faster. My dislike was getting crazy and ended my wish to show my problems to anyone.” His thoughtful passage showed that he doesn’t need help. It happened as a way to move from misery to mystery. I compared many bad situations with myself and what gave me a new start. I can tell you that accidental attention is abrupt. And sometimes irrationality starts relief. The open of other opportunities is okay because the best aid is when you have lost yourself in a
CALMING-DOWN CURE for a setback.
I understood all about that unique event, and it grabbed my attention. So let’s listen: as a clear point, I value one person as wise. Only that man brought my suffering to an end. If I’m not mistaken, it occurred on the twenty-fifth of August. When over your life you’ve thought about suicide, you called it the day of culmination. Don’t worry, I’m okay now, but what occurred later is a real event. I met a stranger with a genuine spirit. He gave me longstanding wisdom as a drive to act. He emerged from nowhere at an intersection near my building. That man approached saying, “What happened? Man, you have a face like you are already dead?” It was a sudden contact. Even as I opened my mouth to explain the many problems I faced, he didn’t need to hear it. Instead, he insisted, “When you lump troubles that beat your skull, the best idea is to gather yourself and go to Vatican City for at least a month. Yes, yes. Man, intend to cast away your painful yesterday and fly to Rome in Italy. And let me admit one thing: I’m not a religious one, but that is no matter. So, when you head toward the Vatican Palace of St. Peter’s Basilica, oh the things you will see there can just overwhelm you! But your exceptional goal is to find the Sistine Chapel. When you go inside, watch the ceiling and walls. Pay attention to the portrayal of The Last Judgment by Michelangelo. Next, most importantly, with a sincere mind, ask for God’s forgiveness of all your sins. You never know. You might get immediate remittal, but hold your focus on the image. I’ve heard that miracles often show up to people. But for you, if it’s no sign, visit a place to stay longer hours. I appraise you as a righteous man and believe you are blessed to witness a wonder. Even if you don’t belong to the Catholic faith, I urge you to commit it to memory. You only approach that ground on Earth and glimpse such paintings…”
When he pronounced the last words, his disappearing was abrupt. Later, during one of my darkest days, I caught myself thinking about his recommendation. Then, in a rush, I was gone to the Vatican. I realized that was a bolt from out of the blue, and it hit my head like lightning. Within a few hours, I got to JFK airport in New York, just carrying a bag with a few shirts and essentials. After a lingering search to unwind, it became my impulse. I smiled again after months of agony. It was unbelievable, but my destination was now Italy, Rome, the Vatican. Can you picture this? I would greet the Vatican! Hip-hip-hurrah! My heart sounded with elation. During takeoff, I thought about the many religions I knew. A bunch of information about Christianity, Judaism, Islam, and Buddhism crossed my mind. I remembered many facts from my twenties, but over the years, I had gotten more interested in other faiths and moved further. I gathered and formed a personal library of rare book editions of the Bible and scientific research about the historical reality of Jesus Christ as a person. Also, about Judaism, I kept books translated into English. There were the Torah, Talmud, and other writings about Jewish culture. During my visit to explore Islam, as a tourist in Baghdad, I received the gift of a deluxe edition of the Qur’an—"The Book” in its original, Arabic language. I still remember how I ordered the translations and waited about two months for a word-by-word translation in English. I wanted to understand the fundamentals of Islam, which was followed by billions.
Just as unique, in my exquisite collection of Buddhism, I had the sacred book of Tripitaka. It was an essential compilation of excerpts—because the most important books in Buddhism take up about forty volumes. Now, you can imagine my familiarity with these religions. As a result, it formed my concerns about belief in God. It was different religious affiliations with many natives. Though I didn’t qualify myself as an atheist, I still accepted the subsistence of divinity as the supreme source of intelligence, kindness, and common sense. I guessed that if people didn’t have a God, they would become dense and nebbish creatures that would eat each other alive. Yes, sometimes I wondered for myself. It was fascinating to realize how knowledge about a few religions could coexist with such a primitive conviction about God. And even I had learned that, during my younger years, I still knew only to ask the Lord for help. It was only in my forties, to my big shame, that I realized I never appreciated God’s support. It that was hard to say, “God, thank you!” But today my nerves tremble at this imprudence. Nothing kept me anymore in New York, and I was heading into the heart of Christianity! Yes, now I was visiting Italy for the spellbinding Vatican.
While flying, we rethink lots of things. So I had time to recall my conception of the Renaissance Era. As I remember, it was a great interest in the mix of art and religion. I appreciated opportunities delivered by a college PowerPoint presentation about the artist Sandro Botticelli to the professor-student auditorium. But this trip would give me a chance to experience such outstanding masterpieces with my own eyes. Even being enthralled by picturesque images of the Vatican, I was not tempted to see the Pope in Rome. Because of my life occurrences, I distinguished bad effects from medieval obscurantism. In particular, I disliked tragic stories about witch-hunting, crusades, fires of inquisition with the horrifying punishment of heretics, and nowadays, loud scandal cases covered up by the Vatican about priests and kids. Once, I caught myself thinking how sorry I felt for sadists who tortured medieval people. For my twenty-first-century mentality, it wasn’t comprehensible why nonconformist philosophers and scientists, who sped up humanitarian progress, burned alive. That’s why my expectations of that land were different. I did a quick research on my “must-see” list. My heart flurried to meet with the miracle artworks, manifesting the art of geniuses’ reflective processes. “Can you imagine, over scores of centuries, that the psyche of Michelangelo would wait to invite me to become more human through his Sistine Chapel and The Last Judgment? I, in no way, thought Raphael also expected me to visit the Raphael Rooms and the School of Athens. I knew Pinturicchio would just stick me down to learn about ea
ch inch of the “Borgia Apartments and Annunciation.” Besides, for years, I kept my teenage fantasy and compiled an album of works from the world’s artists as Giotto’s Stefaneschi Polyptych. It was like magic come flying into my room, and I scrutinized every figure. Likewise, I thought, Oh, Leonardo da Vinci! I studied about you the most. But now I’m arriving at your Saint Jerome with bated breath and a question: Why does a man live in a desert? Why does he beat his own body for penance, and why wasn’t he afraid to pull out the barb from the lion’s paw? Is that compassion to free the lion from suffering? Or that is getting loyalty from a friendly soul? Oh, the art’s philosophy and Geniuses’ imagination!
Whatever could happen at the Vatican, my intention was building hope for new happiness. So, going into St. Peter’s Basilica, and later the Sistine Chapel, exhilarated me to the thrill. I learned the Sistine Chapel’s ceiling by gliding my eyes through all nine Genesis scenes from “Separation of Light from Darkness” to “The Drunkenness of Noah.” It felt like I’d gone into a prolonged hypnotic trance. I almost choked with fascination but didn’t panic. The delightful forces had burst my attention to the Altar Wall with a central depiction of The Last Judgment. When I focused on the figure of Jesus, I understood eerie things that made me speechless. Then, I sensed something strange. In childhood, Mom had told me that when an individual dies, the soul stays alive with eyes for seeing and ears for hearing. That soulful creature flies bodiless without wings. So I got the same sensation but wasn’t able to flutter. The heaviness in my legs glued my feet to the floor, and I couldn’t move. Yes, I was rooted to one position and saw how natural light melts with the brightest glow. In the same second, I perceived no sign of frescoes and only saw a panorama as one gigantic measure rising toward me. My all insight told me, I’m the only spectator in this act. You think I wasn’t afraid? It was the anxiety of a child. Supernatural action surrounded me from all sides and above me. Yes, the slow-paced destruction of the wall made me witness an inconceivable earthquake. The sky became dark blue and collapsed on the ground, but eyes wandered as I could see Christ, young and beardless. He appeared naked as an image of an ancient Jupiter. Oh! I wasn’t able to tear myself away from the occurrence. My entire mind engrossed by movement of the wall.
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