Death, and talking to girls

I have a great story for you.

Yesterday, I went to this bar in Mexico City called “Lupita”. It was full of hot girls, packed. I was there with two friends. We arrived at the bar like at 9:00 pm, we went to the bar and ordered drinks (non-alcoholic for me, I don’t drink) and grabbed a spot in the hallway. I had been exchanging looks with a girl at the bar, and it happened that she and her two friends stood in front of us to hang and chat.

And then, I didn’t talk to them.

I stood there, talking to my friends, finished my beer, and went to another bar.

See, there’s a problem here, and it is that this story sucks ass. It would’ve been far better if I had told you that I approached the three girl club in front of me and said: "Hey, can I join the club?”.

Lame as lame can get, sure, but it also opens the possibilities for a great story. Instead, I have a night I will forget, a night that could’ve contributed to the grandeur and spice of my life, but that instead will become part of the blur of memory.

Today, I ask myself: What would I have done differently if I know for a fact, that I would die a week after?

I would’ve talked to them, of course, not really caring about getting the number or whatever, but about living that moment fully.

Death is freeing in a way, because, in the end, well, it ends, you’re gone, just like before you were born. It is also very constrictive, for the same reason. You don’t have all the time in the world, the clock is ticking, and so every choice you make, actually matters, because you only have so many. Think about it, if you were immortal, why would you do anything? There is no sense of urgency, you would have forever to do anything. It wouldn’t matter if you’d do it today, or tomorrow, or in hundredth years, death gives meaning to your choices today.

At every moment, a transaction is happening. You’re always buying something with your time and with your choices, and the problem is that, most of the time, we’re not even aware of this happening. Let’s take my example at the bar. What did I buy with my choice? I bought comfort, I bought avoiding rejection, I bought the story in my head telling me how tired I was and that it was just not the moment to be silly.

And what did I decide not to buy? A good story. Maybe a number? Maybe a girlfriend? Who knows?

You’re always buying something, and we’re inclined to buy the cheapest, that is, comfort, but what you get, is also cheap. If you want the best, you have to be willing to spend.

So what is it that you buy and sell? Character.

I recently wrote an article in which I explained Stoic externals. When I say buying and selling, it is easy to believe that, if you choose to, for example, work hard, you will get a lot of money, or, if you choose to talk to girls at bars, you will get a lot of numbers, but the money or the numbers are not what you’re truly buying.

When you choose to work hard, you may get a lot of money, but you may also not. You can’t be sure about whether the market is going to love your product or service, it will perhaps bomb and sell nothing, you can’t be sure. But the character that you’ll build with that choice? That is yours.

You have to think in terms of character, because that is the only thing that you can truly earn or lose in life, everything else is bound to come and go.

Remember this, you’re always buying more or less character, more character is equal to a greater and fuller life, less character, a mean or just plain life, or worse, a life of slavery, as the Stoics would think about it.

I am thinking now about the song “Hurt” by Nine-Inch Nails, and immortalized by the great Johnny Cash. It is the most beautiful sad song ever played. It is also a song that talks about loss, almost total. Let’s look at how it ends:

And you could have it all
My empire of dirt
I will let you down
I will make you hurt

If I could start again
A million miles away
I would keep myself
I would find a way

My empire of dirt. In the end, he sees that all he ever cared about, was everything but his character. The cars, the money, the houses, the watches, the prestige, the status, it all came to be known, in the end, as an empire of dirt, just dirt. He mourns about the choices he made, letting people down, and hurting them, and in the end, he yearns to have made different choices. The last bit of character, mourning the lack of it throughout his life.

I thought about Boromir as well, from The Lord of the Rings. The ring got the best of him, and he wanted to take it from Frodo. But in the end, he understood. He died to save Merry and Pippin, and died in the hands of Aragorn, whom he called: my brother, my captain, my king.

Accepting his destiny, and dying with his honor.

That is all we truly have, our honor or character, whichever you want to call it.

In the Iliad, there is a chapter called Fire at the ships. In it, king of gods Zeus is aiding the Trojans in their battle against the Greeks, making the bloody war unfair.

The Greeks notice this, as their weapons are misguided and broken out of nowhere, but they keep fighting:

Great Telamonian Ajax answered: “Brother,
just leave your bow and arrows on the ground.
Some deity has jinxed them, in resentment
against the Greeks. Instead, pick up a shield
and long dark spear, and grapple with the Trojans
and urge the other Greeks to do the same.
We may be beaten, but we shall not let them
capture our splendid ships without a fight.
We shall retain our valor, zeal, and courage.”

The Iliad - Homer (Translation by Emily Wilson)

By now, you should understand that this is not about talking to girls on bars, that’s just the means to an end, the end being the person you become, that is, your character.

A girl may reject you, your business might fail, you might not finish a race because you got sick or whatever, but like Ajax, with the mighty Zeus himself against him, you will also retain your valor, zeal, and courage.

Until next time,

Ricardo