Autógrafo

No he pensado mucho en la idea de los autógrafos. Entiendo que una dedicatoria tiene algo más —unas palabras, algo que se dice—. Un autógrafo es solo una firma, un garabato que dice: firmado por mí, yo toqué esto. Tal vez en el pasado servía como forma de poder demostrar a otros que estuviste con esa persona, como si fuera un certificado. Con la facilidad de la fotografía, muchos piden ahora una foto juntos como recuerdo del encuentro, en lugar del autógrafo.

Algunos hacen negocio de los autógrafos. ¡Joder, a todo le quieren sacar ventaja económica! Maldito amor al dinero. Siguiendo con la idea del certificado —con la que me quedo—: es un certificado de autenticidad.

En fin, los autógrafos son de esas cosas que no les veo mucho sentido. Puede que mi perspectiva esté sesgada, pero ¿sesgada por qué? ¿Yo lo haría? Una vez me pidieron que añadiera mi firma a un libro que regalaba. Me pareció una tontería innecesaria, pero la añadí por cortesía. Tal vez lo volvería a hacer por cortesía —como forma de devolver el aprecio sin negar una petición que tampoco parece dañina—. Pero dejar de verlo como una tontería, eso no sé. Le veo mayor sentido a una dedicatoria: unas palabras, no solo una firma.

Reservoir

When I started taking care of my finances — during my university years — building a reservoir was part of it. It was the second step, a natural consequence of managing the first step well. The first step was to divide my income into six percentages assigned to six accounts — this can be kept abstract, differentiating them on paper only: 1) 50% for basics, to spend on essential things such as food and rent; 2) 10% for financial freedom, or long-term savings — this functions as a retirement fund and works best when invested; 3) 10% for short-term savings, to be used for holidays, a new phone or car, repairs, or clothing if basic needs require it; 4) 10% for education, to be spent on books, courses, and anything related to learning; 5) 10% for enjoyment — drinks, cinema, a dinner that goes beyond the basics; 6) 10% for debt repayment — which was not much — and once the debt was cleared, this account became the fund for giving gifts to others.

At the beginning, my income was so small that I often had to take money from one account to cover the purpose of another — drawing from savings or education to cover something basic. But over time, as my income grew, the 50% for basics began to build a reservoir. The initial goal was to reach three months of average monthly expenditure. A few years later, I reduced the percentage to 40% and raised the goal to nine months of average monthly expenditure.

Rogar

El que no llora no mama. ¿Habéis escuchado este dicho? Me hace pensar en que uno no sabe pedir lo que quiere —como los bebés—. Lloras, y ese llanto puede ser por hambre o por distintas razones, ya que no puedes comunicar más allá del llanto. Y una de las primeras cosas que se puede pensar es que el bebé tiene hambre, así que se le da de mamar.

A mí no me gusta la frase porque me hace pensar en que lo que se consigue con ella es una cantidad de llorones. Gente que, en vez de preguntar de forma constructiva —aportando contexto e incluso posibles soluciones—, o de pedir, o de reclamar con argumentos, simplemente se queja. Prácticamente lloros, berrinches.

De hecho, la democracia parece tener entre sus desventajas la de promover precisamente eso. Si nos fijamos en las distintas democracias del mundo, los partidos que no gobiernan parecieran tener como papel el de atacar al gobierno y hacer berrinches, más que el de rogar, proponer o construir. De hecho se les llama «oposición» y, como tal, se oponen a todo. ¿No os parece un fallo estructural del sistema?

O al menos eso es lo que muestran públicamente, porque luego los repartos y acuerdos pueden darse según convenga al bolsillo particular. El problema es la codicia, la falta de coherencia e integridad, y la falta de transparencia. Y el sistema no ayuda, más bien parece sustentarlo. Y así, el que no llora no mama, y los que más lloran, gobiernan. Hasta que aprendamos a pedir en lugar de berrinchear, el sistema seguirá siendo de los que más ruido hacen.

Drama

There is a saying that goes something like: he who does not cry does not get fed — or does not get what he wants. And the underlying sense — that fighting for what you want is acceptable — is fair enough. But I think some people take it in the direction of drama.

Have you seen people who complain about everything? They are walking drama. They seem to compete over who has the most to suffer. They seem to expect pity. They cry over everything. Whether it is that no one helps them, or that their job makes them miserable, or that they cannot find work, or that some illness prevents them from working — they always have a story about how badly things are going.

I think we must learn how to ask for what we want and how to say what we do not want. But alongside knowing how to be assertive, we must also be positive — accepting the good things, learning to see them. We must appreciate what we already have, and if we want something more, work towards it and enjoy the journey. We must not be the toxic people who make a drama of their lives and play the victim indefinitely.

Verdes

Me gustan las colinas verdes. Salir a caminar por el campo y verlas es hermoso. Llenan de energía positiva; la experiencia es relajante, elevada en una especie de deleite ante la belleza. Agrada como ver algo bonito, bueno, dulce —en el sentido de amable, delicado—. Es como ver a un ser amado. Es paz, serenidad, tranquilidad. Te arranca suspiros. Te eleva mental y espiritualmente.

A veces ese verde me resulta hermoso también en la vestimenta, sobre todo en mujeres cuando el color les sienta de una forma que realza aún más su belleza. No es, sin embargo, un color con el que yo me sienta cómodo vistiéndolo. De niño no me gustó mucho y desde entonces lo he evitado —al igual que el amarillo, el rojo y el naranja—.

Unos ojos verdes son de mis favoritos. Llaman mucho mi atención. Me producen ganas de detenerme a observarlos como observaría unas colinas verdes: perderme en los detalles, perderme en esa sensación de paz, belleza y admiración.

Verdes tus ojos me gustaría que fuesen. Pero sé que igualmente, sea cual sea el color que resplandezca en ellos, admiraré esos ojos que me enloquecen.

Protest

We assume that words mean the same thing to everyone. In courtrooms, that assumption can put innocent people in prison.

People protest when there is injustice. And I wonder what we understand by injustice — because we must always remember that language is ambiguous, and that meaning depends on the experience of the person.

Words mean different things with different nuances. When we communicate, we must keep this in mind in order to understand better — whether we are the sender or the receiver of the message.

I remember a case where an elderly man killed an intruder in his home. He shot him. People protested on social media in the old man's favour. But the prosecutor was able to make the old man say that he had not been afraid — and that was decisive. The prosecutor needed to prove two things: first, that there was a meaningful disadvantage between the two — the old man had a rifle whilst the intruder may have had only a knife; second, that since the old man said he was not afraid, he was not in danger.

But what does it mean to be afraid? I strongly believe it is not the same for an old man raised to think that a real man does not feel fear — or at least does not admit it — as it is for a man of the twenty-first century who may have been taught that feeling fear is acceptable and worth naming. Both may have the same chemical reaction in the body, the same alert state activated. Both can be brave. But one identifies bravery with the absence of fear, whilst the other understands it as fear acknowledged — fear that activates the stress response and drives them to defend themselves or flee. To be fair, then, we must understand the limitations of how people express themselves — because in this case, the way a man described his own feelings put him behind bars. And that is unjust.

Leg

It is interesting how different legs are between men and women. There is a different structural design in the two, and we can see similar differences elsewhere in nature. In the case of humans, women tend to have more mass at the bottom and men at the top. In general, women's legs tend to be proportionally larger than men's.

Why might this be? There must be an evolutionary reason. We can form hypotheses, but as with many things, these must be accepted as provisional truths until new knowledge emerges. And that last point, I think, is always worth remembering.

I am reminded of a moment at university when a classmate was giving a presentation and said that neurons die and no new ones can form. The teacher interrupted and said that his source was probably an old textbook — because that was what people once believed, but it had since been discovered that new neurons can in fact form.

We study based on old information, and teachers either cannot keep up with current knowledge or they lack real experience — repeating only what they have read, not necessarily what they have lived. We must always be cautious about what is considered truth today, because tomorrow it may be expanded and transformed into a richer truth. This is what I call provisional truth.