A man’s worth could be his goal. He would have made it all up by himself. He would have planned everything. He would do anything. At some point, he would not be able to find the difference between his goal and his dream. They would be one and the same. He has to win all the time. Besides, it’s all to his own making. He is after all in control. To the end of his life, for what life is worth, he already created his own worth and that is what he is worth.
I love this new Broadway show: fun, touching and very real. The story has aspects of a soap opera, the grandeur of a musical and an admirable non-pretentious street smart sense. I highly recommend In The Heights to everyone.
The setting and the casts on stage are so wonderful. They all gave life to a story that touches the heart. I love Olga Merediz’s (voice and her) character as Abuela Claudia.
Congratulations to Lin-Manuel Miranda and thank you for this wonderful piece.
Thank you to my friend Abi for arranging the night. Great to meet you and your friends in NY.
What do we think of our own intelligence? How much do we understand our own intelligence? Do we even know what to do with our intelligence? Or the lack of it…
Information is power. It’s what intelligence is made of. So yes, we can say that intelligence is power. Everyone knows that. What most people don’t know and fail to recognize, or at least respect, is that by itself, intelligence has power. It can make us or break us. It can take over our lives. It can give us what we want. It can give us nothing at all. We can never be without intelligence… but that’s not all there is to it.
If you have intelligence, can you really say that you are in control? Or let’s say you don’t have it, regardless of your own denial, can you still be in control? Is your intelligence important? To begin with, are you important?
There are people who may think that they have enough intelligence to be important enough to write their own memoir much so to think it would matter to the world. They can be so blinded by their own intelligence that they forget what their real roles are. They forget about their real importance. They forget to be real.
There are people who may think that they can be in control without intelligence. They are smart. They are strong. They are control freaks. They get what they want — no more, no less.
There are people who may think they know what they want and that they can be in control. They believe that they know a lot about the world and about themselves. They ask the intelligent questions. They seem intelligent. In fact, they can be so absorbed into their own intelligence that they forget to be what they should really be: smart. People can be intelligent but fail to be smart. In the real world — and you don’t have to take my word for it — smart people are happier than the intelligent ones.
There are people who may think they can play around with intelligence and get away with it. They lie, lie and lie some more. Manipulation can be very motivating. It can be rewarding. Unfortunately for them, though, intelligence is not a game. It is what it is. You get what you give. You lose what you keep.
There are people who may think that they can interpret information as something so important that it engulfs them — letting that "raw intelligence" take over their lives. They may devote so much energy into getting something bigger out of their own understanding. Ironically, the right is never far from wrong. Simply put, intelligence, when taken wrongly, is plain wrong. Nothing comes right out of that.
There are people who may think that they can do away with intelligence and let their hearts guide them. The heart has no sockets for eyes. It is blind. What good does it do to be guided by something blind? The heart without the brain is as extreme as overdosing on medication. It’s like suicide. The heart watches over the brain as the brain watches over the heart. They compliment each other. Balance is everything: earth and sky; up and down; Yin and Yang. Intelligence without a heart is evil and a heart without intelligence is stupid.
What do we learn? Go see Burn After Reading…
I cooked a classic chicken soup tonight for dinner. I sauteed chopped white onions and diced chicken breast fillets. I stirred in some salt and pepper then poured in my chicken stock. I let it boil for a minute and added chopped celery hearts and carrots. I simmered to cook the vegetables and let the flavors really blend in. Then I covered the pot and let boil for the last 30 seconds before turning off the flame. I kept it covered for a minute or so and start serving. Deliciously great by itself or with plain steamed rice!
Oh, and I had milk marinated chicken breast fillets covered with seasoned breading fried in canola oil to a great golden brown finish for my main course.
Mmm-Mmm-Mmm-Mmm-Mmm… Life is good.
Thoughout history, to this day and on, men have always sought to find their own worth. A man would do his share of the work, would go to fight in the war, would settle to build a family or would travel the world to find his cause and purpose in life. A man would offer his time, his energy and, perhaps, even his own life in order to fulfill the drama that opens up the opportunity to prove that his life is never to be lived to waste or, at the very least, to be forgotten.
A man’s worth could be his choice. He would wait for the opportunity to knock or to fall on to him like a poop from a pigeon that doesn’t care. He would choose to go for it or wait for more. He would be rich with options and wait for some more. Then he reaches a point when he has to make a decision: he would have to choose only one — there can only be one. Once he has made his choice, he would do everything he can to prove his choice is right. He chose it. He would stick to it. Damn right he would even fight for it. To the end of his life, for what life is worth, he already chose his own worth and that is what he is worth.
A man’s worth could be his dream. It’s always there. He can choose to make it happen. He can wait. Or he can keep on dreaming. A dream can be so near and yet so far. It’s like a dilema with a hint of optimism so powerful it makes him cling to it — hanging on to that dream. Dreams make a man hope which keeps the dream alive. Hopefully, that dream could keep a man alive. To the end of his life, for what life is worth, he lives his dream and hope for the best for what he is worth and that is what he is worth.
A man’s worth could be his destiny. It comes to him and, at times, challenges him. He’d naturally play along. He has no goal to create. He has no choice to make. Everything just falls right in to place. All he has to do is to live through everything whatever, wherever, whenever and however destiny takes him. He flies with the wind. He rides the waves. He walks the path paved for him by whom he doesn’t need to know. There is nothing to seek. There is nothing to find. To the end of his life, for what life is worth, he knows nothing about his own worth and that is what he is worth.
What is out there worth living for? What is out there worth fighting for? What does life has to offer to make it worth living for? For all it’s worth, man has always chosen to live, has always planned to live, has always dreamed to live and has always let destiny guide him in order to live. We live our lives for what life is worth.. and that is exactly what man is worth.