Day 9: mind and matter

“The truth is lived, not taught.”

–    Herman Hesse

6:25 PM



Today I spent the day working at JBR (Jumeirah Beach Residence).  I met with my management trainees and conducted a Professional Image training workshop in the restaurant and had sufficient time barking my wits out on prototypes that play a big part in sculpting the ideal persona.   The course lasted for two hours and if it not had been for one of my students who uncouthly growled, “Lunch!”, it would have lasted another hour.

I was on fire!  There is nothing more delectable that molding greenhorns into future specialists of EQ.  The program involved proper uniform display, grooming, hygiene and identifying the correct and incorrect non-verbal communications.  Piloted by a module, it funneled through a dozen methodologies that included proper brushing of teeth, correct application of deodorants, using open palm gestures in ushering guests, the hallowed uniform that is not meant to be abused, the difference of smirking and smiling et cetera . . . and the no no’s:  farting and spitting in public, using the mouth to point something, coming to work unshaven, using more than two hairpins to alleviate the hair, yawning, leaning . . . the works.  I had so much fun.  I particularly enjoyed the non-verbal communications bit because other than snarling my mightiest, I demonstrated everything that I trashed out;  picking the nose and ears, leaning on walls, arguing in public, giving the finger, facial monotony (I got an ovation with this and believe me, it took a hell lot of concentration to pull this through, motherfuck!) and bad posture.

The story’s maxim?  Work.  Work until you get hemorrhage.  Work to forget. Work to anesthetize the system.  Work to learn.  Work to teach.  The real psychology of work is to get engrossed.  It doesn’t only make you a pro.  It also builds an impeccable work ethic that will persist its way to life in general.

I was fortunate to have a job that motivates people.  There is always something pious about teaching.  Maybe because, metaphorically, you bring to the fore a pagan and he leaves the room filled with your dogma.

I always like going to JBR.  I come here at least once a week to conduct training, once a month to perform Quality-Service audit and some weekends with family and friends.  Jumeira Beach Residence or JBR,  is a trajectory of peach-colored high rises, bars, malls, a carnival and a night bazaar lazed around the open beach.  An amiable and sexy locale to Dubai residents and tourists alike.  And only a metro ride away from the city center.  I have to mention as well that this is where I tried surfing until I realized that I have developed drinking more saltwater than perfecting my sense of balance.  I considered being picked up by surfers instead!  I am lying.

Two Fridays back, I was with my friend Jin and we braved the nippiness and luckily found the water warm. It was 8 PM and the sky was ablaze with stars.  The metal edifices behind the water was likewise alive.  Stunning! I lied down on the water’s edge (just enough to be met by the crash of the tide) and watched the sky.  I looked up and wondered how vast infinity is like a 10 year old boy.  I remember asking master perpetuity about Doomsday 2012.  Will the sun actually fall from the firmament?  Will a light of wisdom plummet towards us and a new Earth shall recommence after that?  I remember I told the universe, This is where my life begins . . . I was so spellbound with this encounter of beauty and credence, of nature and me all at once . . .blending perfectly together that something inside of me breathed again.

9:03 PM

Listening to Amy Winehouse

I got into thinking that the only way to survive life is to love what is around you, no matter how grim or menacing it can be. IT IS SUCH A BIG STATEMENT I know.  Love is something that is so hard to circumscribe especially in times of uneventful stress  but look here, there is always hope in recreation.  At times when work embark fleetingly to fool around with the psyche, something ultra-poetic is actually born.  In the midst of uncertainty, I think the faux pas of the human race is running after the lyrics of work and converting it to the self. Wrong.  So wrong.  Work will always masturbate with your habits which is good because we always reap what we sow – but – it should never be the blueprint of the life that we choose.  It is untruthful.  It is fake.  It is like befriending popularity for popularity’s sake.

Work is the comedy of our routines and it coagulates our sense of worth but life . . .  life is lying on the beach, talking to the universe and desiring the advent of DESIRE itself.  It does not only triumph over the generation of Marxists whose morals overlooked self-dominion (and money adulation) but also magnifies the need to have faith.  To have faith.


I may still have 41 days to define LOVE but tonight, I may have identified it well.

10:16 PM

When you find love, tell me.  I may learn more from you.

Meantime, live it and love your life.

Good luck.


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