A Month Away From Writing: We Were On A Mission
The final lesson from The Madman
Speaking the truth, it's been more than a month; away from writing; and away from thinking, if I'm being honest.
The thing is I was on a mission. An unavoidable one. One I pursued for 36 years, even though I'm only 31. One I envisioned for the last year and a half after an epic night in Brazil, even though I was in Argentina. The number one mission of my life since I started dreaming about life.
But this was not just MY mission. It was everyone's mission. Our "Man on The Moon" kind of mission.
And just like all the responsible people behind it, I did my part of the job. As if I were a key engineer from NASA. It was mandatory if we wanted the slightest chance of being successful.
So then, I set my computer with a countdown when we were 365 days away from November 20th. The same countdown later appeared in every local news portal. I was not a trendsetter; it was just another sign this was a collective mission.
If I was questioned about my mission (our mission), only positive answers would come back as a reply. If we were playing music in the office, only songs restricted to the popular quest would be allowed. Everything I did and WE did was part of something larger than us. Something we were building together. A selfless act as a supporting cast or even like those filler actors in the backgrounds of crowded movie scenes. But in the end, a key ingredient for the story's credibility.
Because of the responsibility we acquired, we learned and sang the same song to tears claiming that it was time to put things back where we thought they belonged. That is why we put the DirecTV antenna, not before adding a 4 feet extension to have better reception. That is why I filled out the sticker album, because I had to do so, like the previous six times I embarked on this mission. That is why I made promises out loud and also promises to my insides. Ridiculous promises, promises from the heart, and promises for life. And so did everybody else.
And I followed my pattern of practices. Strict to the letter. And others not so much when they didn't work as planned and we were close to finding a sudden end in the second chapter of the story.
- A t-shirt for the before, the signed one for during, and the black one for the after.
- A phone call while coming out of the tunnel, always me receiving the call.
- A drink for each time, always the same one.
- A raspy voice singing, always the same songs for an ending.
And just like that, it all started working.
The ones on the front line of the mission had a thirst for glory never seen before: they were having fun, like in the neighborhoods of their childhoods. They were living that same dream we all shared. And us, in the backdrop, seemed to be tuning in that same signal.
I could barely believe it. So I had to go and prove it was real. I had to travel to the epicenter of the mission and gather with my friends from the neighborhood of my childhood, those with whom I shared that same dream since we once had life dreams, and certify that they were fulfilling their role so well that the goal was getting closer.
If we were going to succeed, we had to do it as we dreamt it: together, as a team.
And it was not only my friends from my childhood neighborhood but ALL the friends from ALL the neighborhoods of every childhood who were fulfilling their role to the letter. All with their pattern of practices, all with their rituals, all with a positive speech pulling in the same direction. THAT was the reason we were closer to the Moon. Even though we were miles and miles away in the background, we knew it was vital to keep cheering forward the ones in the front line. That extra motivation we were giving them could be the difference between failure and eternal glory.
Yes, some errant insecures pretended to be different and row against the current. But the current never gives up and eventually sweeps everything in its way; it is only a matter of time before everybody navigates the same wave to the ocean.
So when the time came, we were all in line to follow The Madman.
We were ready to reach the Moon. But as the greatest magician ever he is, The Madman saved his best trick for the last act: he revealed to us that our destination, what we had in front of us, was not the Moon.
When we went out to the street to shout his name, to celebrate that the mission was finally accomplished, we found ourselves. We were all one, unified by that dream we all shared since we began to have life dreams. The dream of every group of friends from the neighborhood of their childhoods was everyone's dream.
We all did our tiniest part of the whole, even if it felt insignificant. And contradicted the basic principle of perception that the whole is more than the sum of its parts: yes, elements emerge that were not perceived separately; but the parts to add up were 47 million parts, larger than the 26 parts perceived as a whole.
And so we overjoyed, blessed and celebrated for days the perseverance of The Madman and his crew. He, so-called The Madman because, in times where immediacy is everything, showed us that it is worth persevering through time and setbacks to fulfill the dream of your life.
The dream of every child we once were and we will never quit being.
What a team!!! Vamos Argentina