Jose's Blog

Today I watched an episode of Steven Spielberg’s 6-episode Rising: Rebuilding Ground Zero, a documentary on the rebuilding effort of the World Trade Center. Each episode centers on a component of the new 16-acre site. It brought me back memories when I first saw it as a high-school kid and was fascinated by the cool 3D visualizations that dbox rendered. In rewatching the episode, I felt a passion for building that I have not felt in a while. I reconnected with that teenage dream of becoming an architect of skyscrapers. This is what led me in a path of applying to colleges in the United States, and my drive to live in New York City.

I have been sick for the last 10 days with a viral respiratory infection that children usually get. These would have been very miserable days if not for treating myself with Vietnamese soups. There is something so warm, comforting and soothing from enjoying hot chicken broth. Pho is such a nutritious meal, especially if you add those veggies and lime that are given on the side. I feel so much better after having a chicken pho. It is one of those meals that make you pause, concentrate on nurturing your body, and feel yourself in the moment. I can now understand the phrase “chicken soup for the soul.”

I have been thinking about how different lecturers leave an impression in my mind when they choose not to use slides. The eye contact, the heightened awareness of communication with our bodies, and the increased engagement it is asked of us in this format.

Timothy Snyder reflected about this in his book On Freedom:

I never use visuals, and people report that, to their own astonishment, they actually remember what I have said from year to year. i once had the rare pleasure, at Davos, of taking part in an event with two other historians, both of whom shared my attitude and refused to use slides and screens. The outcome was a rapt audience. In boardrooms as well as classrooms, elite and less so, machines stupefy. When the lights dim and the first slide goes up, we relax into zombified calm, knowing that nothing lively is expected of us.

I wonder if the future of instruction belongs to those who rely less and less on technology.

The Chinese-American freestyle skier Eileen Gu is a freak of a human being. The 24-year old reminds me of what Sherlock Holmes would sound like if he were a woman. Eileen is a prodigy: a scientist, model, politician, student, and athlete.

In a recent interview she was asked, “can you take us into your brain?” Eileen revealed that she is a very introspective woman. She journals. She has an analytical lens to her own thinking, breaking down her own thought process–like an engineer who breaks down a machine and tries to put all the components back together to really understand its inner mechanics. “You can control how you think, and therefore you can become whoever you want.”

Eileen approaches her brain like a scientist: experimenting with it. She enjoys monitoring every thought, tinkering with her thinking patterns, and leveraging neuroplasticity to improve herself. She does all this optimization so she can become the younger person of herself would be proud of.

Now that is powerful.

A quote from E. B. White I am pondering today:

The quiet mind, the youthful heart, the perceptive eye, the racing blood—these conflow to produce wonder. Manhattan Island, entire, can sometimes cause such a confluence.

I suppose I try to write every day to encode a little bit of the flux of reality as it unfolds in the river of time. It helps me interpret little moments, and in doing so, to understand my decisions in the past so the decisions I take in the future are a little bit wiser, a little bit more informed.

The river of time moves forward, and it is futile to go upstream, but I get to choose where in that downstream I find myself in. Writing and reflecting everyday is as if I am knitting a little mainsail that helps me navigate the streams, circumvent obstacles, and maneuver the wind.

In writing about the flux of reality of the present, and reflecting about my past, I am enabling a future of freedom.

Today I made a trip to New York City to visit friends and attend a professional event. I was so glad I took the day off for this side quest. I had coffee with a colleague-turned-friend in Borough Hall, and drinks over dinner with another friend in Chelsea.
Friendships require nurturing, and that nurturing begins with your initiative to reach out. Friendships do not exist in a binary state of existence/non-existence, but rather dwell on a continuum. They either deepen or start to fade. Today I feel I have deepened these treasured relationships.

Today I had two unexpected interactions while running errands. The first occurred when I was heading back to work from a break. I encountered a swim mate from the city’s Master’s swimming club. He was heading to the University’s gymnasium. I was heading back to work. We were both surprised we shared a secondary affiliation on the other side of the river –him as a PhD student, myself as an alumnus and now staff. We were interested in hearing each other’s areas of study: he was studying physics, while I was studying conservation of buildings. My mind was trying to find common areas of interest. We both seemed desperate to carve more time from the serendipitous moment of two people having a conversation in a busy sidewalk. I think were both trying to escape the drudgery of everyday life.

The second unexpected interaction occurred on my way home after work. I was waiting at the City Hall station for the underground train. In the crowd of everyday Philadelphians, I stumbled upon a friend who was heading north for volleyball practice. He had joined the competitive and social league. He asked me how was my apartment painting going. I replied with details about the project.

Both serendipitous interactions added color to what would have otherwise been a gray boring day. Such are the joys of making friends and encountering them in the most unexpected places.

Everyone needs a friend who can point us the metaphorical spinach we have in between the teeth. Everyone needs a mentor who believes in a hidden potential that we cannot see. Everyone needs people whom you can trust so you can grow as a human being. If they are not around, it may be time to find a new field before you start rotting.

It is good to remember that everyone has an ego, in the true Jungian definition. Some are more cognizant of their egos —and others less so. When working with others, it is good to remember everyone is carrying an invisible shirt tag that says “I want to be recognized.” I think this is a good heuristic, for it makes you think twice before how you decide to interact with others. A good example is when providing feedback. Think of the sandwich method: ||| positive || room for improvement || positive |||. It is not about sugar-coating criticism, but rather about reframing your position. It is about removing yourself from the pedestal of a court judge and putting yourself in the shoes of others. You begin to work with others, not above others.