The Ultimate Fruit of Fear

The ultimate fruit of fear is when it makes you believe that you have disappeared and that you are only a ghost of what you could be, a visual residue of an extinct potential, the withered ambition of a being that wishes to exist. I decided then to forget about my desires, my needs, my desires, and even my dreams.

They had become expensive, and I didn't have enough to pay their price. I would soon discover that in addition to this, I would also run out of complaints and my voice would go out.

Because even the desire to regret me is over; and this is the thing, it is simpler to get used to the loss that to fight by the conquest.

I guess this was what happened to Job; by the time his pseudo friends came to visit him and crush him for his supposed infidelities and sins (all of them, reasons for his misfortune), he simply stopped talking, stopped complaining.

I had the initiative of two new attempts as a saleswoman but it was just as fruitless. Once again I stumbled upon a wall.

The first one referred to a scheduled sale of vehicles but for a day of absence due to a cold I was off the workforce and in the second I moved to the coast to sell Tourist plots, however, I only got a three (3) walk-days in which I heard my nth workshop on how to sell something, but, without allowing myself to approach buyers, because that was reserved for the ancients. I thought then that I should take some time in my marathon hunt for finding a job, and especially to keep it.

I was supposed to put my life in perspective, as some people say, in order to weigh the positive and the negative in the perfect balance. So, I spent some time at home, reconsidering my steps and my future.

At that time, my father came one day with the news that He had found a job for me.

He told me to accompany him to a travel agency and that there was the possibility of working with a very kind lady who had no one to help her. As I needed the job, I agreed to go with him. After everything, I didn't lose something to try. I was hired immediately and started work the next day.

I must confess, it was one of the jobs I had the most fun at.

I mean that I was learning new things and that was related to one of my great passions, such as traveling and knowing other places, of course it is not an activity that characterizes me in my current life but without a doubt, it is something that I always yearned to do and when working there, I seemed to be closer to that possibility, in addition, what I was learning because of being new and outside my study area, allowed me to dock more quickly and comfortably, because from the very beginning my boss understood that I had not taken a course or anything similar, therefore she was patient with me and did not classify myself as useless or incapable.

On the contrary, she was very excited that I learned so quickly to make air reservations, also in hotels inside and outside the country, answering her calls, preparing tour packages and even gave me the keys of the agency to open it every day.

In fact, there were days when I was alone attending the office and all the clients who arrived there. It was the first time I felt useful in a job, I began to believe that I had found my place and it even showed in my mood.

However, the harvest season had not passed, quite the contrary, it could be said that I was in the middle of the harvest.

From one day to the next my boss began to distrust me.

She accused me of wanting to subtract authority from her in her own agency. She told me in a very severe and almost intimidating way that I was nobody to take attributions in that agency, and all because the work schedule was different in each one's agenda of us.

After that, there were two weeks completely tense and full of paranoia where every movement of mine, even to make a check or receive advertising from a tourism wholesaler, was a reason for follow-up and complete observation by my boss.

The drop that spilled the glass was the presence of her son that made me feel absolute mediocre.

She looked at me and treated like an ignorant who pretended to be professional but didn't really know anything. My boss was so irritable at the time that she accused me again, this time of wanting ruin her business and even disappear two objects of your property (worth mentioning, her glasses and the seal of the agency).

Her son called me "prattler", so to speak; according to him, what I studied in my university years was not verified with my professional practice.

That shocked me and made me remember briefly, my two-week stay at the advertising company, where I felt for the first time unable to validate my career. This time the story was repeated. A man who, according to his mother, was “perfect” in his work and did not make mistakes because he always took care of even the smallest detail, was telling me in a frontal way that he did not believe that I had studied administration.

Of course, I put my resignation the next day. That situation had far exceeded my level of tolerance and hurt the little personal pride I still had. The person that more than once she had declared how happy she felt to have me working with her, now, she told me that she regretted even the salary she paid me.

Every time something like this happened to me, I turned to my good pair of friends that I gained from my time studying at the university, and despite not living even remotely near me, they were always willing to listen to me, whether it was for a call telephone or by a simple text message.

Sometimes with a jocular tone and sometimes with deep surprise, they would say: “Again? Friend, you don't hit one. Why will it always do you work for crazy bosses? ” I remember laughing and other times, I just gestured a grimace.

I also asked myself the same question and the most unusual thing was that by asking them how they were, the answer was the same or similar to mine. Crazy bosses, poor pay, labor exploitation, humiliation, ill-founded accusations, etc.

I was almost surprised by the parallelism ironic of their lives with mine, in spite of the distance and of our respective civil states: one married and with a child, the other one almost married with a son and me for my part, single.

Well, even that conditioned my fear of childhood. It told me that I didn't have enough beauty, sympathy or the angel that was needed for a man and especially a GOOD man could even notice me, much less that he liked me.

As a child, I used to daydream that no matter how many men there were on the planet, the one who would love me sincerely and be my faithful life partner, could see in me what others did not.

Sadly, the only ones who could see me were under the influence of drugs, alcohol or suffered from some mental disorder. So, my perennial singleness remains, thanks in its entirety to fear and more than that, I came to the full conviction that would keep me single and without offspring.

I wonder if, for this reason, my friends experienced part of my litanies, just as the surrounding islands do when a storm passes. I begin to believe so, otherwise, Job would have been the only one to suffer his tribulation, instead of seeing everything he had once, completely affected.

And while my history with jobs, bosses, family relationships and even health, was related to theirs, I was still surprised by the "coincidence" of our experiences.

Fear makes your negative thoughts come true, so be careful with the ideas you feed daily because they will materialize sooner or later. My work and professional failure, as well as my life ideology, are the best example.

A popular saying goes as follows: "Tell me who you are with and I will tell you who you are", if your travel companion is the fear, you can be sure that you will be a coward.

Fear is like a magnet for misfortunes, it generates a very powerful field of attraction, even if it is for the negative things, however, that same field can disrupt the foundations or lives of those who are closer and will expand its range every time it is strengthened.

«La Vida no es fácil» Una cuestión de Legado

“La vida no es fácil”, es la frase con más cliché de la historia. Supongo que se debe a que ningún muerto ha dicho: “La muerte es fácil”.

Me detengo a pensar, evaluar y reevaluar mi carrera: Escritora y Empresaria. Al ver los resultados, noto que no son halagadores ni siquiera motivadores, todo lo contrario.

Cuando veo los resultados de mi desempeño en ambos campos me encuentro que hay una realidad tratando de abofetearme la cara, no sé si para decirme que lo siga intentando, porque como le gusta decir a los Optimistas, “estoy cerca de lograrlo” o sencillamente, trata de decirme de la forma más directa posible que debería hacer algo más con mi vida que seguir invirtiendo en un negocio fallido.

He ahí la cuestión: ¿cuándo debes abandonar la carrera? ¿Cuándo te das cuenta que lo que de verdad debes hacer es cambiar de carril?

No creo que se trate de un asunto de volver atrás ni retroceder, sino preguntarse con seriedad: ¿de verdad debo seguir por aquí? ¿Estoy en el camino correcto o debo seguir por otro?

La vida es un laboratorio, donde a diario probamos con Ensayo y Error. No somos ratas de laboratorio pero bien que nos dedicamos a experimentar con nosotros mismos.

Hay una frase que quedó en mi mente luego de escucharla cuando vi una de mis películas favoritas protagonizada por Whoopi Goldberg.

La segunda película de la Monja cantarina, en la que su personaje lidiaba con una joven algo rebelde que no gustaba de ajustarse a las normas.

En esa escena ella le refiere que un autor de libro le contestó a uno de sus lectores que si al levantarse por la mañana lo que deseaba era escribir, y no podía pensar en nada más que eso, entonces era un escritor. A esto el personaje de Goldberg añadió: “si al levantarte por la mañana, no puedes pensar en otra cosa que en cantar, entonces eres una cantante.”

Fuente: / Foto: Touchstone Pictures

Pues bien, basada en esa premisa hago la siguiente reflexión:

¿Qué me hace escritora? ¿Qué me hace artista? ¿Qué me hace empresaria?

Como sugirió Goldberg, soy escritora, artista o empresaria solo por el hecho de que es algo que no puedo apartar de mi mente cada día.

Según los filósofos, debería ser escritora porque escribo. Según las editoriales, soy escritora cuando publico. Según los especialistas en Marketing, seré escritora siempre y cuando haya un mercado para mi trabajo. Según los Community Manager, soy escritora por el número de seguidores en mis Redes Sociales. Según las empresas que contratan escritores, soy escritora dependiendo del número de publicaciones que haya efectuado y los años de experiencia que le acompañan. Según Wikipedia, soy escritora cuando he alcanzado cierto nivel de ventas en mis libros que me vuelven notoria. Según los ilustrados de las Artes, soy escritora por la cantidad de premios y reconocimientos que he alcanzado por escribir. Según la industria del cine, soy escritora cuando deciden que mi libro súper ventas en las librerías vale la pena ser llevado a la gran pantalla.

En resumen, soy escritora cuando me convierta en una buena matemática.

Lo mismo aplica para los artistas y los empresarios, de hecho para cualquier oficio. Convertirse en tu ideal de profesión o vivir de tu carrera, implica construir un currículum de muchos números y suficientes asteriscos.

Parece entonces que solo por desear algo o pensar en ello con frecuencia te vuelves tonto, porque empiezas a fantasear en una nube sobre lo idílico de trabajar en lo que te apasiona.

Cuando en realidad, deberías estar procurando crear un perfil que vuelva tan pesada tu Hoja de Vida que a todo el que la vea no le quede más remedio que decir: “Tú tienes que ser bueno en lo que haces. Vamos a darte una oportunidad”.

De modo que todo el perfil construido, solo sirve para que te tomen en cuenta y te abran la puerta.

Ahora bien, vuelvo a mi meditación y me pregunto: ¿Qué se necesita para ser escritor? ¿Qué se necesita para ser artista? ¿Qué se necesita para ser empresario?

Algunos gritarán: ¡Talento! Otros dirán: Conocimiento. Un grupo afirmará: Experiencia. Los representantes de Ventas dirán: Buenos contactos y relaciones. Los “Empresarios” dirán: Muchos ceros a la derecha en tu cuenta bancaria. Los maestros y pedagogos señalarán: Paciencia y mucha práctica. Los espirituales predicarán: Fe e intervención divina. Los holísticos dirán: Actitud y Buena suerte.

En otras palabras, para ser escritora necesito primero ir de compras.

Pero esta es la cuestión:

Si eres escritor pero nadie lee lo que escribes, ¿sigues siendo escritor? Si eres músico o cantante y nadie escucha lo que cantas o compones, ¿sigues siendo artista? Si tienes una empresa pero nadie compra lo que produces, ¿sigues siendo empresario?

Beethoven. Beethoven es mi primer pensamiento al respecto.

Beethoven, el músico sordo que se hizo escuchar

Este virtuoso músico alemán que se levantó en la pobreza y que con tan sólo 21 años ya experimentaba problemas de audición, compuso a lo largo de su vida:

  • 9 sinfonías (la última de ellas incluye un Coro),
  • 12 piezas de “Música Ocasional”,
  • 9 conciertos para instrumentos solistas y orquestas,
  • 4 obras cortas, dos misas,
  • 32 sonatas para piano (de las cuales 10 se acompañaban con violín, 5 con violonchelo y una con Corno francés),
  • 16 cuartetos de cuerda,
  • 5 obras para quintetos de cuerda,
  • 7 obras para trío con piano,
  • 5 obras para trío de cuerdas más un gran repertorio de obras para instrumentos de viento.

Un Señor Músico en toda la amplia extensión de la palabra. Eso sí, un músico sordo.

¿Existe mayor ironía que esa? El hombre cada vez escuchaba menos, hasta el punto de ya no escuchar nada, algo aparentemente limitante si se tiene en cuenta que su carrera, profesión y oficio era la de músico y por defecto, debía tener lo que los maestros musicales de hoy en día llaman: Oído musical.

Bueno, supongo que por aquel entonces el término no era muy usado o sencillamente, la sordera de Beethoven llegó justo a tiempo para evitarle escuchar esos reclamos de superioridad que habrían disminuido su pasión por la música, no obstante, lejos de cesar su carrera, este músico sordo se empeñó aún más en producir y componer música.

Así que, contra todo pronóstico, el hombre que no podía oír se hizo escuchar y aún después de su muerte en la pobreza, su obra se sigue escuchando.

Se puede decir entonces que en el caso de Beethoven, para ser músico solo hizo falta una cosa: Oyentes.

Poco o nada importó que él no pudiera oír su obra, porque lo que de verdad valía y aún ahora lo hace, es que haya quien la escuche por él.

Aunque Beethoven no podía oír, su placer por componer música se basaba en que otros sí pudieran hacerlo. Ahí es cuando hablamos de legado. No quiso quedarse solo con su trabajo, se aseguró de compartirlo con el resto del mundo.

Lo que la biblia llama “encender la luz y ponerla en lo alto y no debajo del almud” (Mateo 5: 15 y 16)

Del mismo modo, me atrevo a afirmar que un escritor solo puede coronarse ese título cuando tiene quien lo lea, incluso si él mismo ya no puede ver o leer su propia obra.

Un artista solo puede estimarse a sí mismo de serlo cuando existe un público que pueda admirar su trabajo, mientras tanto, es solo un egoísta intérprete en solitario.

Así que, los premios, las condecoraciones, las fiestas, las fortunas amasadas en los bancos, el número de seguidores y Me Gusta en las Redes Sociales es absolutamente inútil (desde mi punto de vista) para definir la carrera de vida de una persona, si no existe público que la disfrute y aprecie.

No es un asunto sobre tener éxito o fracaso sino comprobar mediante obras quién en realidad eres.

¿Eres músico? Déjame oírte. ¿Eres escritor? Permíteme leerte. ¿Eres vendedor? Háblame de tu producto. ¿Eres atleta? No te detengas.

En las Olimpíadas de 1968 en México, el atleta tanzano John Stephen Akhwari hizo historia en la maratón.

Su reconocimiento no se debió a que hubiese ganado la competencia. Tampoco a lo guapo que era ni a lo moderno de su atuendo deportivo. Su reconocimiento provino de ser el último en llegar.

¿Qué tiene eso de especial? Te preguntarás y con justa razón. Porque siempre hay alguien que llega al último en una carrera.

Pues, lo especial de este maratonista que llegó una hora después de terminado el evento y de entregadas las medallas, es que a pesar de tener un hombro dislocado, producto de la caída que sufrió en el kilómetro 19 del recorrido donde además se lastimó la pierna y no le dejaba de sangrar, fue que siguió corriendo hasta llegar a la meta y cruzarla.


La respuesta por parte del público asistente que aún permanecía en el estadio fue una ovación descomunal y la respuesta de este hombre al día siguiente fue la que cimentó para siempre su hazaña. Él dijo:

“Mi país no me envío 5000 kms. Para empezar la carrera. Mi país me envió 5000 kms. Para terminar la carrera.”

A veces, el objetivo de una carrera parece ser obtener un título o alzarse con un premio. Pero, después de ver las historias de Beethoven y Akhwari, me atrevo a decir que el objetivo es más simple:

Se trata de llegar y cruzar la línea de llegada. Porque esta vida es condenadamente dura de vivir y si vivir no es suficiente milagro ya, llegar a la meta es una victoria que no puede ser arrebatada por nadie, y más notorio se vuelve cuando otros pueden aprovechar lo que ofreciste durante el recorrido.

Beethoven dejó su música. Akhwari dejó su perseverancia. Shakespeare dejó sus obras.

Hay quienes se pasan la vida pasando la página, sin siquiera detenerse a prestar atención a lo que ven, a lo que hablan o a lo que hacen. Sencillamente cumplen la función de Estar. Nunca la de Ser.

Existen personas a quienes se les dice que al no haber mercado para su talento, luego tienen dos alternativas:

  1. Desistir y buscar un mercado menos competido en el que hacer vida y surgir (aunque eso no sea lo suyo) o,
  2. Imitar como marionetas sin voluntad todo lo que los de su propio mercado ya hacen, porque así habrá quien les preste atención a su trabajo, al menos un poquito.

Bueno, también sobre esto haré una reflexión:

El que alguien con supuestamente más experiencia, más condecoraciones, más popularidad y más reconocimientos que yo me diga que NO existe un mercado donde yo pueda exhibir mi obra, es con toda seguridad y sin ánimos de ser asquerosamente positiva, el mejor halago y cumplido que persona alguna pueda hacerme en toda mi vida.

Porque esa persona con conocimiento, experiencia, fama, poder, contactos y dinero está diciendo literalmente que soy UNICA, ORIGINAL e IRREPETIBLE.

Mientras la mayor parte del mundo se pelea por encajar en un patrón predeterminado buscando aceptación y algo de atención, yo me las he arreglado para ser verdaderamente diferente y sin siquiera proponérmelo. ¿Qué no hay mercado para mí? ¡Wow! ¡Estoy por descubrir uno nuevo!

Eagerness and Anxiety. Better call them: Stress

The last week of the month of May, my family and I were facing serious problems, emotional, physical, material, economic and of course, spiritual.

My younger sister fainted in the bathroom during Sunday School. One of the receptionists found her and then other brothers and sisters joined in the task of helping her. Interestingly, this is not the situation that startled us at home, because this physical problem we have faced it since she was 13 years old and somehow (not a very good one I must say) we are already used to.attacked by a moderate to intense headache that did not stop (despite being taking a daily iron supplement to fight anemia). Her response every time we asked her about how she was or how she felt was: "I'm fine."

In the course of the following days, we noticed her emaciated, tired and weak,
Certainly, she was not. Those days her blood pressure was at 90/60 and it even dropped further to settle at 80/50. But she kept going to work at 6:30 a.m. and returning at 9 p.m.

The alarms went on Friday at 6 am when while I was praying and she prepared herself, as usual, to go to work, she notified us with a trembling voice and a frightened face that she felt half of her face numb.

We immediately got up from our place and went with her to the nearest health center. She had to receive her payment that day or the next but without receiving a notification, we launched ourselves into the hands of God with the few coins we had in our pockets.

In that first assistance center, they could not do anything for her. They limited themselves to sending her to the General Hospital of the city because it was the one that had the equipment to attend her in her particular case.

Thank God, the brothers who helped her during her fainting were the same ones who took her to the hospital and stayed with her throughout the process.

After being treated, evaluated and examined, the medical diagnosis was: Stress.

Stress is one of the deadliest diseases of the 21st century. It begins as an emotional condition that unbalances the nerves, increases anxiety and translates to the rest of the body in different types of reactions, some more adverse than others, and in some cases may cause the death of the person.

As a result of this situation, I sought consolation in the Word of God and found this biblical passage in the book of Luke chapter 10 verses 38 - 42. In this passage we find the Lord Jesus visiting the house of 2 sisters: Marta and Maria.

Upon entering, he began to speak but the Scripture says that one of them (Martha) "was concerned with many chores, and approaching, said: Lord, do not you care that my sister let me serve alone?" In other words, she bothered that Jesus not to call the attention of Mary, who says the text sat at his feet to hear his word instead of continuing with the work.

Jesus' response to this case was interesting. He said: "Marta, Marta, busy and upset you are with many things. But only one thing is necessary; and Mary has chosen the good part, which will not be taken away from her. "

Let's see this in a more modern context. Marta represents people like my sister and like other millions of stressed beings in this world. Busy people with many occupations and troubled by many worries.

While it is true, the term stress was not used in the time of Jesus, the disease as such already existed and Marta was a faithful reflection of it.

Maria, on the other hand, represents the person who still has duties to fulfill, tasks to accomplish, goals to achieve, but took the time to stop the anxiety and eagerness and provide nutrients to her mind and soul, which like Martha's they must be saturated, but when they come to the feet of Christ, they chose to discharge those worries and anxieties to recharge batteries with something 100% positive.

No person is immune to the effects of stress. From losing hair and eating nails to suffer heart attacks or strokes, stress is the order of the day to inflict all kinds of damage to human beings.

Jesus taught in the book of Matthew chapter 6 verse 34: "Therefore, do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring its eagerness. Sufficient for each day its own evil"

Certainly, eagerness and anxiety are two evils that unequivocally assail us on a daily basis. Now imagine for a moment that without coming to the feet of Christ to download them, let's say a week, then you will have accumulated the tension of these evils for 7 days, but you think to yourself that you do not need to stop, that you cannot stop and that as my sister you say: "I'm fine", you can still continue, then get ready because the size of your stress will be the blow that your body will receive.

Choose to stop to release the pressure, feed your spirit, clear your mind, heal your wounds and only then you can move forward.

It is not about abandoning your responsibilities, leaves the job thrown away or become yourself in a full-time loafer. No way.

What it is about is that like Maria, you choose the good part. The part where you put a brake on that incessant train of life that you carry on and begin to give more importance to what is going to leave you with something more than a material prize. What it will leave you with mental and spiritual peace.

It may seem simple and even ridiculous but being able to go to sleep every night without worries and waking up in the same way, is a blessing that will benefit you and everyone around you.