Last Wednesday, on my way to a conference in Minneapolis, I stumbled upon at the airport a neat series of books on emotional intelligence published by Harvard Business Review. These pocket books cover many topics: influence and persuasion, difficult conversations, confidence, focus, authentic leadership, and my favorite: dealing with difficult people. I have a strong impulse to get their Ultimate Set Box of 14 books.

Learning these so called “soft skills” is crucial. Any form of career success requires working with other people effectively. I think business schools need to integrate more courses on emotional intelligence — an important skill to any aspiring captain of industry. I am suspicious though on the promise that one can increase their EQ by reading books. The truth is, these skills are the work of a lifetime of introspection and reflection. It is hard work. Nevertheless, learning a bit that sticks is still better than nothing.

HBR, please take my money.

Consistency is the mother of “easier said than done”. It is the ultimate test of commitment: of being serious about your calling. The days where it is hardest to show up are the most important.
This past week I hardly wrote my daily entry. Instead of whipping myself on the back, I chose to forgive myself and move on. There will be days where a single sentence is all I will be write. And that is enough. The difference between one and two is double, but the difference between zero and one is infinite.

This long weekend has convinced me that the 4-day workweek with 10-hour shifts is a good idea. For many of us, a 2-day weekend is not enough. We need a day for doing nothing; another for socializing and going out; and yet another one for doing groceries, housecleaning, and laundry.

I feel more energized at the end of this Memorial Day weekend. The Sunday blues are gone. I feel well rested and ready to tackle the week ahead.

The possibility of restructuring a typical workweek makes me question the entire 7-day week cycle. Why 7? Why not 8 or 10?

I have noticed I am more consistent with my commitment to write every day when I take the trolley, wait for a bus, or drive in the passenger seat. It is the only time of most of my days where it feels so frictionless to tap on a screen and start translating thoughts into digital words. There is something about sitting idle that puts me in reflective mode. These moments of idleness make me wonder if there are other times during the day that offer similar opportunities.

Thoughts flow best when walking, swimming, or showering, but it is hard to catch them in the air and jot them down. I guess the mobile device has reduced the friction, but still many ideas and connections are lost in the mist of the mind. I wonder if any form of meditation or mental exercise helps in creating a safety net that catches those gems while walking, swimming, or showering. In the meantime, good to always carry a notebook and pen.

In Latin America, your middle name usually is more important than your first name. Back in México, my family always called me “Carlos”, or when they were angry at me, they would call me by my full name, “José Carlos.”

In high school, the personal trainers at my local gym referred to me as “Charlie”, a playful and endearing act that revealed their belief in my potential to become a fit person.

When I emigrated to London for college, and then to the United States, I went about by my first name, “José”, for two reasons: one ideological and one practical. It was my way to reinvent myself and distance from the old family dynamics and values inherited up until then. It also served a practical purpose: in the UK and the US, your first name was more important than your middle name. So I went by José. It was liberating.

Now in my 30s, with formal education over (at least in the foreseable future) and a new job down the road as a lecturer, I am reconsidering many things about who I am and what do I stand for, among them the name that people use to recognize you. It has become clear to me for the last few years a need to separate your work-life from your social-life. I have the need to go back to my origins and embrace Carlos —albeit not entirely. Hence why I prefer “Charlie”: a playful, less serious equivalent to Carlos. It has the side-benefit of further assimilation with the Anglo-Saxon world (not that I am eager to), where I have spent for most of the last decade.

José will remain how I am known by colleagues and students —the professional world.

Charlie is how I will introduce myself to new and existing friends, to the public online, to the social world.

This duality can co-exist.

So be it.

I have started feeding my cat classical music when I’m away from home. He seems calmer, friendlier, and more sociable. He gets very comfortable with me. There must be something going on in the neurochemistry of his brain that is affected by the rhythmic sound waves hitting his ears. If music has such an effect on cats, I wonder its implications with humans. How much of an effect does music have on your mood? Why does classical music, or any other relaxing sound, seem to have a soothing effect on your mood? What is the connection between your daily soundscape and psychological well-being? Why does ASMR have such a soothing effect on your neurological pathways?

Sometimes doing nothing is the most productive thing to do. Quiet reflection and wandering around feeds the soul.

It’s graduation season. I remember the day I graduated from NYU. My dad was still alive. My family traveled from México to be present with me. I was heading to Penn. A friend took a photo of me that captured everything I felt that day: Is this it? Is this what success feels like? Why do I not feel the abundance of joy and meaning everyone else seems to express? Perhaps I knew then that the journey is what really brings true meaning. The joy felt from graduating from college is similar to that of crossing the finishing line of a marathon, getting your first car, buying your own home, or any other major life landmark. They all seem short-lived. Why is that?

Missing one is an accident. Missing twice is the start of a new habit.
— James Clear

I think the trick to daily blogging is to have a mindset not to miss a day. Even if it is a single paragraph. The habit forces you to be more attentive and responsive to the world as it develops in front of you. Ideas for a blogpost usually flow from walking. So the habit of blogging reinforces the habit of walking.

Walking reveals the landscape of ideas . And writing those ideas helps to crystallizes them.

So there it is. I am back on track.

I am having a hard time thinking of a point in history where academia experienced a revolutionary change as profound as AI will have in the next few years. Besides the printing press, it is hard to tell.

Academia is about to experience a profound change not seen since Plato founded the Academy. The role of the professor will be less about transmitting bodies of knowledge and more about igniting the curiosity and drive in their students; less about testing mastery of knowledge and more about teaching how to focus your attention. In the era of information, the ability to learn new skills, to focus attention, to cultivate inner-motivation, and to nourish enthusiasm will become ever more valuable.
I wonder what Plato would have done.