I have a crazy schedule. Without going into details, suffice to say that I’m almost literally running all over the city from company to company. I have to give attention to people from many different backgrounds. I’m an entertainer/teacher. If my lessons aren’t fun, people quit. But if my lessons are just fun and people don’t feel like they are pushed to learn, they also quit.
With nothing big to look forward to in life, without any kind of memorable adventures, with work that is often repetitive if not outright boring and comes with little status, the only thing that seems to make me come alive is to cheer people up. Maybe that’s my therapeutic side. The calling to make people smile, feel good about themselves, unlock their potential.
So when I get up in the morning and know that a marathon is in front of me I become truly enthusiastic at the prospect of surprising some of my students. Like this week I have small gifts from Crete for some of them. The prospect of presenting these makes me look forward to the rest of the day.
Although I feel that a lot of my lessons don’t really lead to much, I do appreciate that I can make people smile. A little gift. A considerate, personalized note. A joke. Acknowledging the beauty in someone.
It’s one of the few things that -luckily- spices up my otherwise glamourless life, which seem set to be an uneventful, colorless existence, since I lack the qualities to experience a truly exciting life.
But the giving, yes, at least I’m lucky to derive an abnormal amount of pleasure from giving people gifts.
If I would ever be rich I suppose I would be buying some of my most loyal friends houses. When I fantasize about being filthy rich it always involves giving houses or businesses to friends and family.
Please do not conclude from this that I’m a good person. Yes, I enjoy giving, but it certainly doesn’t make me a saint. At times I feel like the giving I do is to balance out the shitty things I’ve done in my life.