#SundayMotivation

I read yesterday about the #PowerOfBlessings and felt it was #TooGoodNotToShare

Do you #BlessOrCurse?

When something goes wrong do you bless it or curse it?

Our natural reactions often lead us towards the negative, but that will only breed more negativity.

How Reading Helped My Career

 In 2013, a joint venture Israeli/South African company was looking to make a foray into Nigeria. They wanted to set up an outlet in Lagos after conducting their feasibility studies and they needed a Nigerian financial institution to partner with.

Somehow, i was given their contacts and we agreed to meet with our teams from both sides at Victoria Island. 

I got my team together- about 8 of them- people in e-business, IT and other units that I know will have one thing or the other to do with this company.

I wanted to conclude in just one meeting. As the South African MD and his Israeli partner walked into my office where we were all seated and I stood up to exchange pleasantries with both of them, his eye went to the book on my table. 'Oh, you're reading Tipping Point?', he asked.

I was reading Tipping Point by Malcolm Gladwell that week and I had the book on my desk in the office. I usually have the books I'm reading either in my car or on my desk. I replied in the affirmative.

He asked for other books of Malcolm Gladwell that I've read and I mentioned Outliers-The Story of Success and What The Dog Saw. He asked for my best among the books and I mentioned Outliers. His best was Tipping Point.

Instead of today's thread, let's have some fun

1 RT = 1 Life Lesson

First one is on the house.

-Thread-

Those you trust the most are those in the best position for betrayal.

Active listening is a false God.

Most people will waste your mental space.

If you want to say "no", dont use any other word.

Seeking approval is the first step to auto destruction

If there is one thing I have learned it is that people love bullshit. They buy bullshit stories from professional bullshit artists, accept bullshit philosophies, purchase bullshit how-to-books, vote for bullshitting politicians.

At first, I resisted believing this because it is illogical and dumb and frankly, doesn't reflect well on the human race of which I am a member (and thus have long been hopeful that it is more of a distinction than it actually turns out to be.)

But if you actually are interested in facts you begin to notice how little most people care for them. Sometimes it is because they are heard to learn and bullshit is so much more widely and easily available. Sometimes it is because facts make them uncomfortable about themselves.

Sometimes it is because just one tiny fact will upset a whole worldview that has grown as comfortable as an overstuffed chair. (Settling into such worldviews is a lot like settling into chairs like that because the longer you're there and the deeper you sink...

...the harder it is to hoist yourself up and out of your fat-assed intellectual laziness.) But I actually think the reason people have such an appetite for bullshit goes deeper, goes to an aspect of ourselves we just can't accept.

I'm just back for a COMPLETELY NECESSARY trip to a supermarket.

And... something dramatic happened.

So, okay, looks like we're going to have a little bit of a THREAD.

Buckle up for an unbelievable anecdote that gets to the heart of London life in this nightmarish pandemic.

(I won't name the supermarket, NOT because I don't want to shame the members of staff [I will be doing that privately by reporting their actions to the police later today - as soon as I've finished tweeting this thread], but because I don't want to give them free advertising.)

Okay, right. I'm still shaking so I'm struggling to write this out. I've opened a bottle of Campo Viejo Rioja (an underrated affordable offering which is currently on special offer at Tesco) to steady my nerves. No shame in that.

So. Yes. I was walking down the dairy aisle...

I saw a northerner.

(apologies for the delay, I'm on the phone to an upset friend - her husband of 15 years has just confessed to an affair with her own sister. It's not really the sort of situation where you can say, "Excuse me Julie, awfully sorry but I'm writing an incredible thread on twitter!")

I met her, a couple of Feb 14s earlier, on the way back home. It was post-9pm, the compartment was empty, save one girl.

She was dressed up—dress, heels, lipstick—the whole deal. She quickly wiped her tears when I walked in, switching to looking out, resolutely.

THREAD.

I tried doing nothing for a few stations, but then, restless about all the grief that came off her, took the bench opposite hers, finally.

“All okay?” I asked.

She hesitated. Blinked.

“Valentine’s Day,” she replied, sadly.

“Date didn’t work out?”

“He dumped me!”

2.

I winced. An asshole with no respect for symbology!

She rubbed her nose, looking both sad and angry.

Tired from a day of work, I groped for words. What could I say that would help?

"Maybe if—," I began, but she cut me:
"How many times will this same thing happen to me?"

3.

"Every time I like someone, they turn out to be assholes. I was so happy I wasn't single on Valentines' Day. FINALLY. But this is WORSE! I dressed up so much. And went all this way from home... And he, and he..."

Turns out, I realised, one doesn't need to say much.

4.

All sad people on Valentines' need, is a listening ear.

Till, five stations of ranting later, they ask, "So YOU tell me, WHY should I believe in love?"

Interrogated thus, in a local train corner, I felt... cornered. Why should one believe in love, I wondered?

5.