I’ve been TEDified – yes, I had all the right talks with this TED guy. He’s been explaining very loud and plain how attraction works, how words come to action, how you need to find your home, how to fail successfully, how to be creative, how to be courageous, how to, how to, how to. Live-staged inspiration!

Ipad off. Head down. Mind on. You get your insecurities on stage, you confront them with the speaker and then you just have to address them to yourself. Your own one-man show with (hopefully) no audience, but your own demons.


Failure is now taking over the conversation. Then it’s embarrassment holding hands with disappointment. After that it’s just rejection. They all have dreadful faces, grinning at you while your spirit is fainting. In a long dream, where only Xanax and double vodkas might just get you some shots of inspiration. Hell, no! That’s just for rock and roll legends.

While your will seems to be fainting, you feel the vain. The vain, the pointless, the whatever, the ‘I don’t care’, the ‘thanks, but no thanks’, the ‘what next’, the… Well, let’s make it more obvious. Why wake up from this sweet dream of ignorance, when you could just wait for things to happen?

It’s like making your bed, right? Why be bothered each morning, if in less than 12 hours you get the same result: scrambled sheets. Each night, each morning. Right?

The ‘vain’ is now doing the talks on stage. No point of doing anything to change history, it’s all about chance. So just enjoy the silence of nothing to expect. Nothing to lose, right?

Failure, will-faint, vain. And then you ‘call’ this TED guy again. You pour some white Vermintino and watch him trying to kill these three inner-musketeers, conversation-spoilers! Crush them, TED! Oh, you know you can. You own the answers to everything and the ‘all bad things come to an end’ exemplars.

Somehow, when TED finishes his therapy, your demons are sleepy. But you do realise, they’re going to wake up and it’s you that has to deal with them. So you exercise the will. A tone of dreams and hundreds of physical proofs of your determination: letters, emails, calls, works. Work, work, work.

You push yourself harder! You kick your ass before someone else does it, you then slap your porcelain-thin skin with ‘no, thanks’ replies and make it thicker. You have no time. The demons are to come alive.

This is when you have your coaching conversation with yourself. No, we’re not getting TED! It’s just between the two of us. Me and myself.  And then you understand!

You know how inspiring failing is? Yes, the bloody compulsive guy that keeps attending all the big things happening in our lives. When he’s taking the stage, you know how good you feel to prove him wrong? Thrash that little guy’s face with stubbornness and determination. He’ll know then that you’re not just just a heart-fainted girl.

Well, this is the moment when this TED guy is no help. He’s just doing some one-night stand inspiration. For the long-term relationship, it’s just you and your stubbornness that will make the real point in your talks.

Talk to yourself and from time to time, get your demons on stage. Give them characters and change the plot. Do I really want to have failure and resignation as the main personage? Hell, no.

Scrambled sheets? Maybe. But not the dreams. They should be woken up really early in the morning, kept awake the whole day, turn them all sides at night and in the morning take it all over again. Perfectly stretched. Again and again.


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