The Right of Being Wrong

This chronicle is, in fact, a sequel of my previous one, "Terminal Station". There are a few thoughts that remained unsaid, and that I would like to develop further.

A few years ago I reached what they call "the third age", and retired from active work. How did I get there? Looking back now, reminiscing my past, it appears to me as if it was yesterday that I left school, started working and met my first love. Time is a tricky thing: we go on living, unaware of the passing years, but when we pause and think about them, it looks like time has caught up with us too quickly.

The great Spinoza once said: study the past to understand the present and prepare for the future. He was, of course, absolutely right. But is it studying the past a way to feel guilty for all the mistakes we have made? I don't think that this is what Spinoza meant. The past is our lifetime. It is there the way we lived it, and cannot be changed. What's the point in crying over things we should not have done? Whatever we did, it depended on the circumstances when it was done and our state of mind at that time. This can never be reproduced, only understood.

I believe that what Spinoza meant is that, by studying the past and understanding what we have done, we become wiser to live the present and avoid the same mistakes in the future. Yes, I have many regrets for things I wish I hadn't done and others when I missed the opportunity of doing the right thing. On the other hand, I'm glad and proud about many things that I did. It's a mixed bag of feelings, successes and failures.

I shed many tears in the course of my life. But grief, when overcome, is what gives you indulgence and strength to go on living. Those who never suffered, have a dry and aseptic life, and will never know the advantage of being compassionate and merciful.

There is no perfect human being, and I am not an exception. As you age, you become less critical of yourself. I am now, my best friend. It's not bad to be old, it sets you free. Do I need to worry now if I decide to spend my whole night entertained with a book, going to sleep at 6 AM and waking up in the middle of the afternoon? From the moment you're born to the moment you retire, your life is influenced by other people. When you are old, you get rid of them.

The only problem when getting old is that you acquire many physical limitations. Although you learn how to live with them, they are always present to impose you some constraints. You got rid of the people, but your body now dictates some of your behaviour. To be honest, let's say then that you have got "limited freedom". But, at least, you have only yourself to deal with.

And what about the fear of being alone when you get old? I invoke here a phrase of the famous Greek lawyer, orator and philosopher, Cicero: "nunquam minus solum quam cum solus esset", meaning "you are never less alone when you are alone". In other words, being alone is not necessarily a disadvantage. You will have plenty of time to think, dream, read and write, dedicate yourself to all sorts of intellectual activities that would be otherwise difficult to do, if you were not alone. Considering that with age your body is less apt, isn't then a good time to exercise your brains instead?

When you get older, it becomes easy to be grumpy. I never fell into this bad habit, probably because I always had a good sense of humour. In my opinion, it is essential to keep a cynical view of life, and laugh as much as you can. Laughter purifies your soul and energises your body.

At this stage of my life, I care less about what people think of me. When I do things, I do them for my own pleasure, like writing this chronicle for example. I don't really care if other people are going to like it or not. I don't even care if other people are going to have the curiosity of reading it. It's good to put my thoughts on paper, sorry, on the screen. It's like emptying my soul, and I feel good about that. I'm writing to myself, and by doing this, I know that I have spoken sincerely.

Old age is an age of selfishness. But I worked for 43 years, I raised my children, I provided for my family, and I was kind to my friends. I am not going to live forever, I am not going to waste the time I have left lamenting what my life could have been, and I am not going to worry what my life will be. I have earned the right of being wrong, the right of being myself, the right of being respected.

Terminal Station

I am in a situation now that I must concentrate on living my own life. Normally speaking, people live their lives according to their surroundings. Family, close friends, and work play a significant role in dictating your actions and decisions. This is inevitable if you want to live in harmony with everybody.

Normal, healthy people, can afford to invest a lot of time in maintaining a good balance in all their relationships. In my case, however, suffering from a serious illness and having a death sentence over my head, I don’t dispose of much time. If a normal, healthy person doesn’t worry too much with the future I, on the other hand, don’t even know if I will have any future at all.

In the beginning, it was quite a shock, and I felt very uncomfortable. It was not exactly fear of death, but a sort of emptiness and apathy that took over me. I’ve waited so long for my retirement to start, finally, doing all kinds of things and projects that I had on my mind... Suddenly, it was all irrelevant. How can you be motivated if you lost hope and don’t know how much time you have left?

This apathy was soon replaced by a sort of frenzy when I passed my days doing unpleasant things or tasks that I didn’t particularly like or wasn’t keen in doing. I felt miserable wasting my precious time in such way. For me, it was like throwing away my last chances of fulfilling my dreams. I became terribly depressed.

However, if we stop for a moment and think carefully, my situation is not much different from a normal person’s. Nobody truly knows how much longer they are going to live, even when they are healthy. I remember the case of a dear friend of mine, who died a horrible death, burned alive, when the airplane she was travelling, as a result of a bad landing, caught fire and exploded after hitting a warehouse at the end of the runway. She was in the late fifties, prosperous and healthy. She left a husband, a daughter and two stepchildren.

Nowadays, I even believe that I have a slight advantage over normal and healthy people in the sense that I refuse to waste any more of my time. When you are normal and healthy, you have the tendency of leaving certain things for tomorrow. It is the “retirement syndrome”: when I retire, I will do this and that, I will enjoy all kinds of things that are not at the top of my priorities right now. You want to be successful at work, and you don’t want to disappoint your family and friends. Work often becomes a limitation; family and friends become consumers of your time.

You end up postponing all the things you’d love to do for later, when you will have more time. Well, I don’t have any time, or rather, I don’t know how much more time I have. Therefore, I can’t afford to postpone anything. It’s now or never. I must live every day as if it is going to be my last day on earth. I must do everything I want now; I can’t wait.

But, if I think of my dear departed friend above, this decision of thoroughly enjoying my life every day that I am alive, would also apply to any human being, be this person healthy or not. I don’t mean here that we should drop all the responsibilities to our work, or neglect our friends and family. But we must meet a proper balance of our time in a manner that we are also able to fulfil some of our dreams.

The truth is that nobody knows what the future is going to be. If we choose to sacrifice our life in the hope that one day we’ll be able to relax and enjoy it, we are playing the Russian roulette. I’ve already been hit by a bullet, so I am going to try to relax and enjoy all the time that I still have. I’m retired, so I don’t have to worry with work any more. As far as family and friends, they will have to get used to the idea that I won’t be particularly interested in hearing about their problems. I have myself a bigger problem to deal with. I’m still here, to love and care for them, but much more in a passive way than before.

Am I being selfish? Perhaps, but I don’t have much choice. A famous writer - I can't remember his name at this moment - once compared life with a long voyage by train. He said that, most of the time, we unfortunately fail to pay attention to the beautiful landscapes we are crossing on our way to the terminal station (death). And this is true: people are usually so busy with themselves that they forget to look around.

I need to be busy with myself because of my actual condition. But I am now one stop before the terminal station, and I intend to pay a lot of attention to the landscape before reaching it...

In my humble opinion...

Why is it that when people ask for our opinion on a certain matter, and you candidly give it to them, they usually get mad or disappointed? After all, if you don't want to hear the answer, why do you ask the question?

If you ask the opinion of another person, you're looking for other alternatives that you might not be able to think of. These alternatives maybe useful to open your mind to a new solution that would have otherwise escaped you. Should you be angry if you don’t agree with the person? In the end, the decision is yours, and you're absolutely free to ignore any opinion that you find unsuitable to your case.

It is perfectly all right not to agree with me, or debate in a friendly manner, or even ignore what I proposed. What is not all right is to be angry and insult me, if my opinion doesn't suit you. Especially in my case, where I would have preferred to abstain and stay quiet.

However, I notice that unless I’m very careful in choosing my words, people are not prepared to hear something that is totally contrary to what they have already in their minds. In other words, most people are only interested in hearing an opinion if the answer is going to ratify the choice they have already made.

Some persons are completely refractory to opinions; nevertheless they keep asking for more. And when they get them, they go exactly the other way around. For these folks, it is even more suitable to express the opposite of what you think. This may lead them to choose the contrary of what you said, which is, in fact, what you really think.

Complicated, isn’t it? But in reality, it all amounts to a bit of arrogance. People ask for an opinion, but they keep thinking they know better, therefore, the effort of the one giving the answer is a complete waste of time.

One thing that is very amazing is that the one asking for an informed opinion, completely neglects the fact that you have made an effort to listen, to understand the issue and to carefully express your thoughts. All this is some precious time of your life that you dedicated to that person. Shouldn’t he or she be grateful to you for that, even when disagreeing with you?

A bigger problem occurs when you are foolish enough to give your own opinion without being asked. Oops! Most of the time people get really upset, and an unpleasant discussion follows. This happens even with family or close friends.  Already a long time ago I decided to refrain from doing this. Nowadays, I never volunteer my opinion to anyone on private or delicate matters.

I still think that the freedom of thinking and speaking gives me the right to express my humble opinion on matters that are of a universal nature. But even then, you can get into trouble. Take religion or politics, for example. People are very touchy about such subjects, and you have to be very careful when expressing your own thoughts and convictions.

If you look at blogs in the Internet, you will see what I mean. The amount of insults  that some of the bloggers receive in the comments to their articles is amazing. What happened to politeness and good behaviour? Can’t we disagree with someone without being obnoxious? Language, written or spoken, is a beautiful tool that should be cultivated with love and proficiency. But, in the world of today, disagreeing means confrontation rather than dialogue.

Do I want to waste my time? Do I need any aggravation? Surely not.  Someone once said: "If you're going to say what you want to say, you're going to hear what you don't want to hear.". This is absolutely true. Because of all that, I stay away from opinions. I keep my mouth shut, unless people I know very well insists in having my opinion. In this case, I make sure to tell them in advance that they are completely free to disregard it and forget it, and that they shouldn't argue with me about it.

Is it working? Well, not always, but at least it gives me the right to ignore their adverse reactions and put those persons in the black list so that I don’t waste more of my time with them in the future.

And you, what is your opinion on all this? ;-)

Clear and Present Fears

Fear is an emotion, triggered by a perceived threat or danger. It is a basic survival mechanism and, even in our modern world, it still appears to rule our lives. At the top we find, above all: fear of death. Then, fear of losing a beloved one, fear of the dark, fear of getting fired and lose our job, fear of being alone, fear of showing our real feelings, fear of our enemies, fear of looking ridiculous, fear of new things, fear of flying, fear of becoming poor, fear of spiders, fear of public speaking, and the list continues, endlessly...

These omnipresent fears surely prevent us from living and enjoying a more pleasant and relaxed life. They largely contribute to stress, and stress, according to the medical world, is responsible for 90% of all degenerative diseases. They are also the origin of our fantasies and beliefs, such as religion, for instance. The fear of death motivates religious allegiance. Our Gods, even the present ones are created according to our own image, and not the other way around. This is easily proven because they are all Gods of fear and punishment. Do this, and you will go to hell when you die; do that, and you must seek absolution and endure penitence.

How did we get to this point of being afraid of so many things? One decisive factor is, of course, our education from the tender ages. Our parents, for some reason, think that it is easier to direct us to the right path by scaring us from doing the wrong thing. Later in our lives, we suffer the assault of information through media that are mainly based on fear and bad news. It is not exactly their fault because we buy into this catastrophic rendering of the world we live in. Who is seriously interested in knowing the details about a great scientist that just got the Nobel Prize? We'd rather watch the news about an airplane that has crashed somewhere killing hundreds of people, right? For some reason, good news seems to be tedious and not worthy of our attention.

Not only we live in fear, but we also thrive on fear. It's a stressful life, and we are doing nothing to make it easier. From Asia, we have the great thinkers who try to teach us meditation and a way to control our emotions. However, their methods and teaching are not adapted to our way of life in the Western world. Spending time every day on meditation is not really our cup of tea. We find it boring and useless.

The victory of capitalism in our Western world has also brought us the rise of poverty and criminality. Fear of being mugged or becoming poor is frequent among us. Let me tell you about a small incident that happened to me, that illustrates perfectly what I am saying. I have always been a pragmatic and optimistic individual. Nevertheless, like everybody else, I fell prey of fear many times in my life.

Some years ago, I went to New York for a few days to attend a conference. During my stay there, someone told me about a terrific music store that remained open very late in the night. One evening, after dinner, I had nothing to do, so I decided to pay a visit to this megastore. The store was located near the Lincoln Center. My hotel was not far from the 5th Avenue, in one of the side streets. I thought I could do with a good walk. I smoke the pipe, and in New York, being a lung-friendly city, the only way to smoke is to be outdoors.

I started walking at around 9:30 PM. It was a long walk, but the weather was good and I was happy smoking my pipe, going through an area that I hadn't visited before. There were not many people on the streets at that time of the evening. This didn't worry me too much because it was all new to me and I was excited about the visit. I reached the shop almost three quarters of an hour later, and I was not disappointed.

The shop was located in a tall building, and I was flabbergasted and happy to find out that they had two full floors dedicated only to CDs and DVDs of classical music, my main interest. Only in America you can find a shop like that. I totally lost any notion of time, going from row to row of new releases and historical re-editions, delighted to find so many recordings of my liking. I left the store well after midnight, with a small bag full of fantastic CDs that I had found. My visit was well worth doing and I was extremely satisfied with my shopping.

Outside, I hesitated. It was very late and maybe I should get a taxi to go back to the hotel. However, it was a pleasant night, I knew my way back, and I could do with some more smoking. So, I start walking back to the hotel. Now the streets were totally deserted, not one soul in sight. I got a bit worried, knowing the reputation of the city, and paid much more attention to the surroundings I was passing through.

After crossing a street, all of a sudden, from the dark shadows on my left, a man came out straight on my direction. He was black and tall, poorly dressed. Years of suppressed fear took over me. I thought to myself: "I'm done; I am going to be mugged and there is nobody around to help me.". I decided to keep on walking, but he stopped just in front of me. He looked me in the eyes, no smile, and said sharply: "D'you have a lighter?". I was shaken and taken by surprise with the question.

I replied timidly, nodding my head: "Yes, I do.". Then he got a cigarette from one of his pockets, put it in his mouth and asked: "Can you light me up?". With trembling hands,  I got my lighter and did what he asked me. He looked again in my eyes, and said this time with a half-smile: "Thanks!", and slowly walked away, puffing his cigarette. I didn't dare to move for a few seconds, breathing with relief. Then, I resumed my walking, with my knees still shaking under the stress of my brief encounter. I met nobody else and reached my hotel safe and sound.

This little incident, that caused me a lot of stress, was a combination of fears: fear of strangers, fear of being mugged, fear of a new and unknown territory, fear of the dark, and fear of death. All these are due to my education and the way life is presented to us nowadays. It would have required me a lot of cool blood to have remained calm and in control of myself. But for this I would have needed a different education, based on knowledge rather than fear. I would have also needed to ignore the pessimistic and calamitous media that appeal to our natural interest for bad news.

Controlling our emotions, and especially fear, is no small business. But maybe, just maybe, being more conscious of our fears can help a bit. In the case of my encounter with the tall stranger, in the middle of the night, in New York, I probably could not do much better because I was under potential danger. But we are plagued by many other fears that are just a product of our own imagination and totally unjustifiable. By repeatedly confronting these fears, what is known as "exposure therapy", we can learn how to deal with them and, most surely, be capable of enjoying a better and less stressful life.

---

"He who has overcome his fears will truly be free." - Aristotle.

The Joy of Music

A few days ago I tuned to one particular TV station that has an exclusive programming of classical music. At the time I was watching, they were broadcasting the Christmas Matinée of 2009 at the Concertgebouw of Amsterdam. These Christmas concerts are a tradition of the Concertgebouw Orchestra started in 1975 by their chief conductor at the time, Bernard Haitink. They are always performed in the afternoon of Christmas day, in the famous hall in Amsterdam, after which the orchestra is named. In 2009, one of the pieces in the program was Beethoven's Sixth Symphony, commonly known as "Pastoral". This symphony is one of my favourites, so I stayed tuned to enjoy it.

What I didn't know, when I started listening to it, was that it would turn into one of the most rewarding musical experiences I've ever had. It was absolutely perfect. Haitink is a master conductor. In my humble opinion, he's one of the best and a legend amongst the conductors of our time. But that day, he was particularly inspired. The orchestra, as usual, played beautifully. I know this piece very well, and I have several recordings of it, with different orchestras and conductors. But what I saw and heard that day was unique: the fluidity, the elegance, the clarity, the cohesion and intensity that came out of Haitink's hands through the Concertgebouw musicians transformed the performance into a breathtaking enchantment. It was as if the players were floating on the stage, to give us an ethereal account of that sublime music. They were not playing, they were singing; they were singing a glorious hymn to nature. Pure magic...

A few days later, the station repeated the program, and I was lucky to catch it again. Now, still under the spell of what I had watched before, I concentrated harder, trying to find something that I didn't like. The result was exactly the opposite, and I became even more convinced that it was a magnificent performance, second to none I have heard before.

As a treat, you can listen to the whole symphony here, as it was played on that day. I'll bet you that once you start listening, you won't stop:


After it was finished, I was left with a thought: what makes the Concertgebouw Orchestra so special? Was it Haitink? Was it the acclaimed acoustics of the hall itself? None of these can convincingly explain their sound and the way they play. In 2006, a consortium of ten European media outlets, invited by the French magazine "Le Monde de la Musique" made a list of the 10 top European orchestras. They put the Concertgebouw in second place, just one point behind the Vienna Philharmonic. Two years later, in December 2008, a group of international critics gathered by the reputable British magazine "Gramophone" ranked the Concertgebouw Orchestra undoubtedly as the best symphony orchestra of the world. This time, Vienna got the third place. A lot of articles can be found praising this orchestra. They talk about their ‘deep, warm and velvet’ strings, their ‘golden’ brass sound and the exceptional timbre of the woodwinds. The truth is that the Concertgebouw Orchestra has an enviable place amongst the small, select group of top world orchestras. The countless recordings that the orchestra has in its discography have also contributed to its worldwide reputation.

But the question remains: why are they so unique? Is it only the technique? Are their musicians better than the others? Again, this is not relevant. In the top 10 orchestras ranked by the Gramophone critics, there is little difference in the skills of the musicians. Other people try to explain the distinct character of the orchestra by the fact that it has had only six chief conductors since its creation 125 years ago. This must have been indeed very influential, but some other orchestras of the same age and calibre have also had long running conductors. I will never forget what Haitink said during one of his interviews, when talking about the Berlin Philharmonic (ranked number two in 2008), comparing it with the Concertgebouw: "It's like driving a Rolls Royce. It's a perfect and comfortable ride, so perfect that we forget to admire the landscape around us." And this is absolutely true: it is not a smooth and flawless engine that makes our trip remarkable.

Then I remembered what I had seen during the "Pastoral" broadcasting and, all of a sudden, it clicked! The musicians of the Concertgebouw are indeed all excellent and have total control of their instruments, but this is not what makes the orchestra so special. It is their emotions, their enthusiasm, their freedom, their pure joy of making music. If Berlin is a "comfortable Rolls Royce", the Concertgebouw is an exciting Ferrari! Just watch them playing and you will know what I mean. None of the stiff, formal and composed posture of other musicians, playing impeccably like robots. These are men and women that deeply feel the music and respond to the conductor's wishes with fervour. Yes, it is their joy of music what makes them special. And by enjoying the music, they contaminate their audience to enjoy it too.

The prove of this can be found in a recording of Mahler's First Symphony, "Titan", under the direction of Leonard Bernstein. I was lucky to be present at that memorable concert, in 1990, in Amsterdam. That year Bernstein recorded all Mahler's symphonies with the three European orchestras he considered the best for the task: Berlin, Vienna and Amsterdam. Nine symphonies, three with each orchestra. Bernstein was a charismatic conductor and the Concertgebouw followed him with passion. This recording is ranked amongst the best ever made. It was a live recording. One reviewer writes: "This is the performance I have been waiting for.  All this is most beautifully and subtly chronicled by the Concertgebouw players. How warmly and generously their strings phrase the wayfarer's music: it takes a great Mahler orchestra and a great Mahler conductor to imply so much suppleness and freedom... I reserve my greatest enthusiasm for the finale; I've never heard an account like it. Their exhilaration in the coda (the euphoric explosion of brass fanfares is hair-raising) is second to none, and again it is the way in which the phrasing spontaneously sings that proves so uplifting. This is a great performance of Mahler’s first brave symphonic essay, impressively caught on the wing by DG’s production team. I’d say it is an almost impossible act to follow."

The reviewer said it all. I know, I was there and I enjoyed it thoroughly, probably as much as they enjoyed playing it. For your delight, I give you here below another treat. You can listen to the Finale of Mahler's First, as it is brilliantly performed by Bernstein with the Concertgebouw:


This little and simple secret is applicable to almost anything we do in life: if you are a good professional and you enthusiastically enjoy what you do, you cannot fail in being one of the best!