...3...  philosophising  part  three...  (  3  out  of  18  )...
Autor: luis antonio freire | Publicado: 2011-07-11T18:45:00-07:00

dear &nbsp;son &nbsp;taue…
dear &nbsp;son &nbsp;peter…

well… &nbsp;after &nbsp;last &nbsp;week’s &nbsp;interruption…
which… &nbsp;fortunately… &nbsp;had &nbsp;a &nbsp;happy-end…
I &nbsp;decided &nbsp;to &nbsp;continue &nbsp;with &nbsp;the &nbsp;stories &nbsp;of &nbsp;my &nbsp;life…
since &nbsp;last &nbsp;email &nbsp;was &nbsp;a &nbsp;little &nbsp;bit… &nbsp;too &nbsp;much &nbsp;scientific…
and… &nbsp; nothing &nbsp;like &nbsp;to &nbsp;listen &nbsp;to &nbsp;a &nbsp;story &nbsp;more &nbsp;human…
as &nbsp;opposed &nbsp;to &nbsp;the &nbsp;more &nbsp;scientific &nbsp;ones…

( &nbsp;it &nbsp;seems &nbsp;to &nbsp;me &nbsp;that &nbsp;the &nbsp;stories &nbsp;which &nbsp;are &nbsp;more &nbsp;human… 
&nbsp; &nbsp; “get &nbsp;in” &nbsp;more &nbsp;easily… &nbsp;they &nbsp;are &nbsp;easier &nbsp;to &nbsp;“digest”…)

but &nbsp;this &nbsp;doesn’t &nbsp;mean &nbsp;that &nbsp;the &nbsp; scientific-type-of-stories &nbsp; are &nbsp;worthless…
they &nbsp;are &nbsp;important &nbsp;too…
it’s &nbsp;like &nbsp;in &nbsp;life…
sometimes &nbsp;we &nbsp;are &nbsp;not &nbsp;too &nbsp;enthusiastic &nbsp;about &nbsp;doing &nbsp;a &nbsp;certain &nbsp;type &nbsp;of &nbsp;activity…
( &nbsp;to &nbsp;clean &nbsp;the &nbsp;dust &nbsp;off &nbsp;the &nbsp;room… &nbsp;for &nbsp;instance…)
but &nbsp;we &nbsp;have &nbsp;to &nbsp;do &nbsp;it &nbsp;anyway…

because &nbsp;if &nbsp;we &nbsp;don’t…
we &nbsp;would &nbsp;end-up &nbsp;breathing-in &nbsp;all &nbsp;that &nbsp;dust…
which &nbsp;obviously &nbsp;is &nbsp;not &nbsp;good &nbsp;for &nbsp;us…

( &nbsp;although &nbsp;I &nbsp;read &nbsp;once &nbsp;in &nbsp;a &nbsp;book… &nbsp;in &nbsp;a &nbsp;humoristic &nbsp;tone… 
&nbsp; &nbsp;that… &nbsp;it’s &nbsp;been &nbsp;scientifically &nbsp;proved &nbsp;that…
&nbsp; &nbsp;once &nbsp;the &nbsp;dust &nbsp;reaches &nbsp;three &nbsp;centimeters &nbsp;high…
&nbsp; &nbsp;we &nbsp;don’t &nbsp;have &nbsp;to &nbsp;clean &nbsp;it &nbsp;anymore…
&nbsp; &nbsp;because… &nbsp;it’s &nbsp;been &nbsp;proved…
&nbsp; &nbsp;that… &nbsp;beyond &nbsp;those &nbsp;three &nbsp;centimeters…
&nbsp; &nbsp;it’s &nbsp;impossible &nbsp;to &nbsp;accumulate &nbsp;more &nbsp;dust…)

--- &nbsp; --- &nbsp; ---

we &nbsp;had &nbsp;stopped &nbsp;our &nbsp;story… &nbsp;in &nbsp;recife…
at &nbsp;age &nbsp;four… &nbsp;( or &nbsp;five )…
sitting… &nbsp;all &nbsp;day &nbsp;long &nbsp;on &nbsp;the &nbsp;front-yard-wall…
watching &nbsp;the &nbsp;cars &nbsp;pass &nbsp;by…
thinking &nbsp;on &nbsp;nothing…
just &nbsp;savoring &nbsp;the &nbsp;moment…
without &nbsp;deep &nbsp;thoughts…
without &nbsp;deep &nbsp;worries…

it &nbsp;seems &nbsp;like &nbsp;my &nbsp;childhood &nbsp;was &nbsp;sectioned &nbsp;in &nbsp;a &nbsp;series &nbsp;of &nbsp;three-years-periods: 
the &nbsp;three &nbsp;first &nbsp;years &nbsp;of &nbsp;life… &nbsp;in &nbsp;boston…
the &nbsp;three &nbsp;next &nbsp; years… &nbsp;in &nbsp;recife…
and… &nbsp;the &nbsp;three &nbsp;next &nbsp;ones &nbsp;( from &nbsp;six &nbsp;to &nbsp;nine-years-old…)… &nbsp;in &nbsp;rio-de-janeiro…

more &nbsp;precisely… &nbsp;in &nbsp;a &nbsp;neighborhood &nbsp;which &nbsp;is &nbsp;on &nbsp;the &nbsp;border &nbsp;of &nbsp;jardim-botanico…
…and &nbsp; gavea…
with &nbsp;a &nbsp;road &nbsp;made &nbsp;of &nbsp;those &nbsp;little-rectangular-stone-blocks…

a &nbsp;place &nbsp;resembling &nbsp;“the &nbsp;vila”… &nbsp;in &nbsp;ipanema…
where &nbsp;you &nbsp;used &nbsp;to &nbsp;play &nbsp;with &nbsp;juninho… &nbsp;and &nbsp;the &nbsp;other &nbsp;kids &nbsp;at &nbsp;“the &nbsp;vila”…

the &nbsp;aura &nbsp;was &nbsp;similar…
we &nbsp;used &nbsp;to &nbsp;play &nbsp;soccer…
on &nbsp;the &nbsp;sidewalk…
without &nbsp;much &nbsp;fussiness…
it &nbsp;wasn’t &nbsp;necessary &nbsp;a &nbsp;soccer &nbsp;field…
in &nbsp;order &nbsp;to &nbsp;play &nbsp;soccer…

the &nbsp;sidewalk &nbsp;was &nbsp;just &nbsp;perfect…

I &nbsp;used &nbsp;to &nbsp;study &nbsp;in &nbsp;a &nbsp;public &nbsp;school &nbsp;by &nbsp;the &nbsp;“lagoa” &nbsp;area…
and &nbsp;take &nbsp;the &nbsp;trolley-bus &nbsp;to &nbsp;school…
I &nbsp;was &nbsp;eight-years-old… &nbsp;when &nbsp;my &nbsp;mother &nbsp;said &nbsp;that &nbsp;I &nbsp;could &nbsp;take &nbsp;my &nbsp;sister &nbsp;clarice…
( who &nbsp;was &nbsp;four-years-old ) &nbsp;to &nbsp;her &nbsp;kindergarten… 
which &nbsp;was &nbsp;located &nbsp;right &nbsp;in &nbsp;front &nbsp;of &nbsp;my &nbsp;school…

and… &nbsp;that &nbsp;was &nbsp;the &nbsp;scene…
me &nbsp;at &nbsp;age &nbsp;eight… &nbsp;taking &nbsp;my &nbsp;sister &nbsp;( age &nbsp;four )… &nbsp;to &nbsp;her &nbsp;school… 
and… &nbsp;from &nbsp;there… &nbsp;going &nbsp;to &nbsp;my &nbsp;classes &nbsp;on &nbsp;the &nbsp;other &nbsp;side &nbsp;of &nbsp;the &nbsp;road…

good &nbsp;times… &nbsp;no &nbsp;violence… &nbsp;a &nbsp;life &nbsp;with &nbsp;no &nbsp;stress…

my &nbsp;mother &nbsp;used &nbsp;to &nbsp;give &nbsp;me &nbsp;the &nbsp;exact &nbsp;amount-of-money… 
for &nbsp;the &nbsp;trolley-bus-ticket…
at &nbsp;the &nbsp;end-of-classes… &nbsp;I &nbsp;didn’t &nbsp;have &nbsp;to &nbsp;pick up &nbsp;my &nbsp;sister &nbsp;anymore…
because &nbsp;my &nbsp;mother &nbsp;had &nbsp;already &nbsp;done &nbsp;it…
since &nbsp;my &nbsp;sister’s &nbsp;classes &nbsp;ended &nbsp;before &nbsp;mine…

so… &nbsp;at &nbsp;the &nbsp;end &nbsp;of &nbsp;classes…
since &nbsp;I &nbsp;had &nbsp;the &nbsp;exact &nbsp; amount-of-money &nbsp;for &nbsp;the &nbsp;trolley-bus-ticket…
I &nbsp;rather… &nbsp; instead &nbsp;of &nbsp;taking &nbsp;the &nbsp;trolley-bus…
I &nbsp;rather &nbsp;spend &nbsp;the &nbsp;money &nbsp;on &nbsp;a &nbsp;little-bag &nbsp;of &nbsp;pop-corn…
and… &nbsp;walk &nbsp;home… 

arriving &nbsp;at &nbsp;my &nbsp;home-street… &nbsp;even &nbsp;before &nbsp;going &nbsp;home…
I &nbsp;used &nbsp;to &nbsp;“dive” &nbsp;into &nbsp;the &nbsp;soccer-game &nbsp;with &nbsp;my &nbsp;friends… &nbsp;on &nbsp;the &nbsp;side-walk…
a &nbsp;very &nbsp;calm &nbsp;life… &nbsp; with &nbsp;no &nbsp;deep &nbsp;worries…

but… &nbsp;not &nbsp;everything &nbsp;in &nbsp;the &nbsp;garden &nbsp;was &nbsp;rosy…
in &nbsp;contrast &nbsp;to &nbsp;my &nbsp;life &nbsp;of &nbsp;a &nbsp;dreamer &nbsp;in &nbsp;recife… &nbsp;sitting &nbsp;on &nbsp;the &nbsp;front-yard-wall…
thinking &nbsp;on &nbsp;nothing… &nbsp; &nbsp;just &nbsp;living…

there… &nbsp;on &nbsp;rio-de-janeiro…
at &nbsp;age &nbsp;eight...
I &nbsp;passed &nbsp;through &nbsp;an &nbsp;experience... &nbsp;that &nbsp;made &nbsp;me &nbsp;see &nbsp;the &nbsp;reality:
not &nbsp;everything &nbsp;in &nbsp;the &nbsp;garden &nbsp;is &nbsp;rosy…

one &nbsp;day… &nbsp;as &nbsp;I &nbsp;was &nbsp;coming &nbsp;home &nbsp;from &nbsp;school… &nbsp;on &nbsp;foot…
as &nbsp;I &nbsp;approached &nbsp;the &nbsp;street… &nbsp; with &nbsp;everybody &nbsp;playing &nbsp;soccer…
I &nbsp;started &nbsp;saying…
“you &nbsp;can &nbsp;throw &nbsp;me &nbsp;the &nbsp;ball…!!
&nbsp; like &nbsp;a &nbsp;“shower” &nbsp;throw…!!
&nbsp; so &nbsp;I &nbsp;can &nbsp;head &nbsp;it…!!...”

and… &nbsp;at &nbsp;this &nbsp;moment… &nbsp;all &nbsp;my &nbsp;friends &nbsp;totally &nbsp;ignored &nbsp;me…
as &nbsp;if &nbsp;I &nbsp;wasn’t &nbsp;existing &nbsp;at &nbsp;all…
they &nbsp;didn’t &nbsp;pay &nbsp;any &nbsp;attention &nbsp;to &nbsp;my &nbsp;presence…
they &nbsp;wanted &nbsp;to &nbsp;make &nbsp;sure &nbsp;that &nbsp;I &nbsp;was &nbsp;being &nbsp;ignored &nbsp;by &nbsp;them…
in &nbsp;a &nbsp;way &nbsp;that &nbsp;I’ve &nbsp;never &nbsp;seen &nbsp;anything &nbsp;like &nbsp;that…
in &nbsp;my &nbsp;whole &nbsp;life…

at &nbsp;this &nbsp;point… &nbsp;I &nbsp;didn’t &nbsp;understand &nbsp;anything…
I &nbsp;thought &nbsp;to &nbsp;myself… &nbsp;“what &nbsp;is &nbsp;going &nbsp;on…?”

I &nbsp;asked &nbsp;them…
they &nbsp;answered… &nbsp;saying &nbsp;that…
they &nbsp;were &nbsp;“giving &nbsp;me &nbsp;the &nbsp;cold &nbsp;shoulder”…

I &nbsp;didn’t &nbsp;know &nbsp;what &nbsp;the &nbsp;expression &nbsp;“give &nbsp;the &nbsp;cold &nbsp;shoulder” &nbsp;means…
they &nbsp;explained: 
“ it’s &nbsp;when &nbsp;somebody &nbsp;stops &nbsp;talking &nbsp;to &nbsp;another &nbsp;one…
&nbsp; &nbsp; for &nbsp;some &nbsp;reason…”

then &nbsp;I &nbsp;asked &nbsp;what &nbsp;was &nbsp;the &nbsp;reason…
they &nbsp;told &nbsp;me…
but &nbsp;even &nbsp;today… &nbsp;I &nbsp;still &nbsp;don’t &nbsp;remember &nbsp;what &nbsp;was &nbsp;the &nbsp;reason…

( I &nbsp;think &nbsp;I &nbsp;was &nbsp;so &nbsp;shocked &nbsp;with &nbsp;the &nbsp;“cold-shoulder” &nbsp;episode &nbsp;itself…
&nbsp; that… &nbsp;when &nbsp;they &nbsp;explained &nbsp;me &nbsp;the &nbsp;reason…
&nbsp; my &nbsp;mind &nbsp;probably &nbsp;wasn't &nbsp;in &nbsp;conditions &nbsp;to &nbsp;understand &nbsp;what &nbsp;they &nbsp;were &nbsp;saying...
&nbsp; and &nbsp;I &nbsp;didn’t &nbsp;ask &nbsp;them &nbsp;to &nbsp;repeat &nbsp;the &nbsp;explanation… either... &nbsp;) &nbsp; 

I &nbsp;became &nbsp;a &nbsp;little-bit &nbsp;disturbed &nbsp;with &nbsp;this &nbsp;first &nbsp;experience &nbsp;on &nbsp;my &nbsp;life…
of &nbsp;feeling &nbsp;that… &nbsp;the &nbsp;society… &nbsp;the &nbsp;group &nbsp;of &nbsp;friends… 
has &nbsp;this &nbsp;capacity &nbsp;for &nbsp;rejecting &nbsp;someone…

and… &nbsp;life &nbsp;is &nbsp;a &nbsp;sequence &nbsp;of &nbsp;lessons &nbsp;of &nbsp;this &nbsp;type…
life &nbsp;keeps &nbsp;moving &nbsp;on…
episodes &nbsp;like &nbsp;this-one &nbsp;keep &nbsp;on &nbsp;happening… 
regardless &nbsp;of &nbsp;the &nbsp;age…

we &nbsp;keep &nbsp;on &nbsp;knowing &nbsp;new &nbsp;people…
we &nbsp;start &nbsp;to &nbsp;feel &nbsp;relaxed &nbsp;and &nbsp;at &nbsp;home &nbsp;with &nbsp;them…
and… &nbsp;suddenly… &nbsp;something &nbsp;happens…
we &nbsp;hear &nbsp;something &nbsp;from &nbsp;them &nbsp;that &nbsp;suddenly &nbsp;surprises &nbsp;us…
and &nbsp;it &nbsp;does &nbsp;get &nbsp;us &nbsp;by &nbsp;surprise…

it’s &nbsp;like &nbsp;receiving &nbsp;a &nbsp;big &nbsp;“punch” &nbsp;in &nbsp;the &nbsp;face…
life… &nbsp;often &nbsp;embarrasses &nbsp;us &nbsp;with &nbsp;something &nbsp;similar…

but &nbsp;this &nbsp;kind &nbsp;of &nbsp;thing &nbsp;doesn’t &nbsp;happen &nbsp;only &nbsp;between &nbsp;two &nbsp;people…
sometimes &nbsp;such &nbsp;surprises… &nbsp;such &nbsp;disappointments…
show &nbsp;up &nbsp; between &nbsp;a &nbsp;person &nbsp;and &nbsp;an &nbsp;institution…
between &nbsp;a &nbsp;person &nbsp;and &nbsp;a &nbsp;government…
between &nbsp;a &nbsp;person &nbsp;and &nbsp;a &nbsp;school…
between &nbsp;a &nbsp;person &nbsp;and &nbsp;the &nbsp;corporation &nbsp;where &nbsp;he &nbsp;(she) &nbsp;works…

when &nbsp;I &nbsp;was &nbsp;in &nbsp;Hawaii… &nbsp;still &nbsp;on &nbsp;my &nbsp;first &nbsp;years &nbsp;there…
when &nbsp;I &nbsp;was &nbsp;studying &nbsp;for &nbsp;my &nbsp;master’s &nbsp;in &nbsp;math…
working &nbsp;hard &nbsp;to &nbsp;be &nbsp;a &nbsp;“straight-A” &nbsp;student…
I &nbsp;used &nbsp;to &nbsp;do &nbsp;my &nbsp;homeworks &nbsp;in &nbsp;an &nbsp;exaggerated &nbsp;diligent &nbsp;way…

on &nbsp;the &nbsp;first &nbsp;semester &nbsp;I &nbsp;got &nbsp;an &nbsp;“A”…
on &nbsp;the &nbsp;second &nbsp;semester &nbsp;I &nbsp;got &nbsp;a &nbsp;“B”…
on &nbsp;the &nbsp;third &nbsp;semester &nbsp;I &nbsp;got &nbsp;a &nbsp;“B”…
on &nbsp;the &nbsp;fourth &nbsp;semester &nbsp;I &nbsp;got &nbsp;a &nbsp;“C”…

suddenly… &nbsp;I &nbsp;received &nbsp;a &nbsp;letter &nbsp;from &nbsp;school…
saying &nbsp;that &nbsp;I &nbsp;was &nbsp;in &nbsp;“probation”…
that &nbsp;is… &nbsp;if &nbsp;I &nbsp;didn’t &nbsp;get &nbsp;an &nbsp;“A” &nbsp;on &nbsp;the &nbsp;next &nbsp;semester…
I &nbsp;would &nbsp; be &nbsp;“kicked-out” &nbsp;of &nbsp;school…

that &nbsp;was &nbsp;a &nbsp;kind &nbsp;of &nbsp;a &nbsp;“punch” &nbsp;in &nbsp;my &nbsp;face…
to &nbsp;realize &nbsp;that &nbsp;they &nbsp;had &nbsp;been &nbsp;so &nbsp;harsh &nbsp;on &nbsp;me…
yes... &nbsp;on &nbsp;me… &nbsp;who &nbsp;had &nbsp;tried &nbsp;to &nbsp;do &nbsp;my &nbsp;best…
as &nbsp;a &nbsp; “straight-A” &nbsp; student…

but… &nbsp;this &nbsp;time… &nbsp;in &nbsp;this &nbsp;case… &nbsp;I &nbsp;let &nbsp;myself &nbsp;get &nbsp;too &nbsp;much &nbsp;depressed…
because &nbsp;of &nbsp;a &nbsp;simple &nbsp;little &nbsp;letter &nbsp;coming &nbsp;from &nbsp;school…

I &nbsp;should… &nbsp;( facing &nbsp;the &nbsp;problem &nbsp;brought &nbsp;by &nbsp;the &nbsp;letter…)
I &nbsp;should &nbsp;have &nbsp;tried &nbsp;to &nbsp;go &nbsp;there…
to &nbsp;get &nbsp;more &nbsp;information &nbsp;about &nbsp;what &nbsp;was &nbsp;going &nbsp;on…
I &nbsp;should &nbsp;have &nbsp;tried &nbsp;to &nbsp;listen &nbsp;to &nbsp;the &nbsp;opinion &nbsp;of &nbsp;my &nbsp;teachers…
who &nbsp;deeply &nbsp;knew &nbsp;me…

… &nbsp;instead &nbsp;of &nbsp;letting &nbsp;myself &nbsp;get &nbsp;so &nbsp;depressed &nbsp;by &nbsp;a &nbsp;letter…
that &nbsp;maybe &nbsp;was &nbsp;sent &nbsp;by &nbsp;an &nbsp;administrative-office &nbsp;of &nbsp;the &nbsp;university…
which… &nbsp;maybe… &nbsp;had &nbsp;nothing &nbsp;to &nbsp;do &nbsp;with &nbsp;the &nbsp;math-department &nbsp;itself…

but… &nbsp;the &nbsp;world &nbsp;keeps &nbsp;spinning…
after &nbsp;that &nbsp;letter…
by &nbsp;coincidence… &nbsp; my &nbsp;sciatic &nbsp;nerve &nbsp;got &nbsp;worst &nbsp;to &nbsp;the &nbsp;point…
that &nbsp;I &nbsp;couldn’t &nbsp;neither &nbsp;sit… &nbsp;nor &nbsp;stand &nbsp;up…
I &nbsp;really &nbsp;had &nbsp;to… &nbsp;quit &nbsp;the &nbsp;math &nbsp;program…
I &nbsp;ended &nbsp;up &nbsp;enrolling &nbsp;myself &nbsp;into &nbsp;the &nbsp;music &nbsp;department…
which… &nbsp;definitely… &nbsp;would &nbsp;add &nbsp;much &nbsp;more &nbsp;to &nbsp;myself…
as &nbsp;a &nbsp;human-being… &nbsp; than &nbsp;the &nbsp;math &nbsp;would &nbsp;do...

and… &nbsp;returning &nbsp;to &nbsp;my &nbsp;friends &nbsp;pals &nbsp;who &nbsp;used &nbsp;to &nbsp;play &nbsp;soccer &nbsp;with &nbsp;me…
at &nbsp;the &nbsp;time &nbsp;I &nbsp;was &nbsp;eight-years-old…

after &nbsp;the &nbsp;"cold-shoulder" &nbsp;episode…
fortunately… &nbsp;in &nbsp;two &nbsp;or &nbsp;three &nbsp;days…
everything &nbsp;went &nbsp;back &nbsp;to &nbsp;normal…
my &nbsp;relationship &nbsp;with &nbsp;the &nbsp;group &nbsp;turned &nbsp;out &nbsp;to &nbsp;be &nbsp;the &nbsp;same…

children… &nbsp;in &nbsp;general… &nbsp;don’t &nbsp;keep &nbsp;too &nbsp;much &nbsp;resentments…
they &nbsp;fight &nbsp;on &nbsp;one &nbsp;day… &nbsp;and &nbsp;on &nbsp;the &nbsp;next &nbsp;one &nbsp;everything &nbsp;is &nbsp;fine…

this &nbsp;capacity &nbsp;to &nbsp;forget &nbsp;the &nbsp;fight…
and &nbsp;to &nbsp;forgive…
the &nbsp;capacity &nbsp;of &nbsp;being &nbsp;able &nbsp;to &nbsp;say… &nbsp;“ let’s &nbsp;move &nbsp;on “…
this &nbsp;capacity &nbsp;of &nbsp;the &nbsp;human &nbsp;being…
I &nbsp;consider… &nbsp;a &nbsp;very &nbsp;good &nbsp;one…

see &nbsp;you &nbsp;next &nbsp;time…?
see &nbsp;you &nbsp;next &nbsp;time…

I &nbsp;want &nbsp;to &nbsp;give &nbsp;a &nbsp;very &nbsp;tight &nbsp;hug…
on &nbsp;you &nbsp;two… &nbsp;my &nbsp;sons…
with &nbsp;tenderness…
your &nbsp;father…
&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;…luis antonio…