Thursday, January 27, 2011

Og Mandino: the story of a book

My first contact with the book by Og Mandino, "The University of Success", occurred around October or November 1990, in the city of Guaratinguetá, State of São Paulo, Brazil, during my training course at the School of Experts Sergeant  in Air Force, the EEAR.

It must be clear that this was obviously not the first book I read in my life, nor the last. It was, however, the first book that really opened my mind to possibilities not previously thought. It was the first self-help book, so to speak, that I read in my life, and had a great impact on my thinking and living.

Actually, I did not give much attention to the book when I saw it in the first time. Simei, a classmate and one my friend, had a copy, with a beautiful and bright blue cover, along with their study material, and occasionally I saw the book very quickly. I had a great taste for books since 1982, when I read my first book, and from then on, always frequented libraries and always liked to read, so that the mere sight of any book ever called my attention as a promising source of pleasure. But all I had read so far was limited to novels and textbooks, technical books, never a self-help book. On the contrary, self-help books did not look great things at the time, as some titles were not strangers to me, nor I looked cute. Veja magazine had and still has a service of sales ranking of books on their pages, and reports weekly sales of books according to three categories: fiction, nonfiction and self help. Thus, as occasionally I read a magazine Veja in some place, and as I always interested in books, I always take a look at the sales rankings, and there were the self-help books.
Those are not books that attract my attention. There were books on witchcraft, Paulo Coelho's books, a writer who is known as a magus, as well as books about crystals, angels, kabbalah, numerology, astrology, reincarnation, spiritualism and other mystical and esoteric subjects, subjects who never received much attention by have spiritual connotations, religious. As someone brought up under the rules of Catholicism, and then, after having had some less superficial knowledge about religion, something in me was marked by the idea that mysticism, esotericism, New Age spiritualism, were subjects not very healthy over Christian viewpoint. Prejudice maybe, but that was my opinion at the time, so I saw the ranking of self-help as merely a listing of dangerous books to people who had suspects religious grounds, something like a sort of spiritualist books, voodooists, new hippies, people linked to drugs and who like a "head talk", sophisticated philosophical and mystical conversation, but at the same time little useful thing, full of fantasies and delirious travels. It was a biased view of a teenager, I admit, and today I forgive me for having this vision one day.
Anyway, I never heard about Og Mandino. Indeed, his book was originally published in 1982 and launched by Record Editor in Brazil in 1985. So at the time of its release, which probably would have some chance of appearing among the top sellers in the ranking of the Veja magazine, I certainly have not read his name, or if I read, I did not pay attention to the subject, so for me it was just a beautiful book with a inviting blue cover and nothing more.
We were at the time of graduation from EEAR. One or two months and we would be formed. We have not  took studies in such a breakneck pace and for two years I had not read anything interesting, no one book at all, I remember. So, that book seemed very timely.

I asked Simei that allowed me to skim through it.

It was a nice feeling. The volume of over five hundred pages seemed to invite me to read, with their leaves yellow and fluffy.

I read the cover and Simei, who was reading it, informed me of its contents, with some excitement. I read some more and I do not remember it at the same time or a few days later, I ended up taking the book borrowed from Simei, and read rapidly it.

It was like an electric shock!

I read it in one stream, and realized that would never be the same type of  reader like before. Few things in my life and experiences have had much impact in terms of changes in my way of thinking and of behaving as it.

I ended up recommending this book to Roni, my younger brother, and because he could not get the book in Conchal city, who had not, and I think still has, a bookstore, I bought a copy just for us. So, Roni could read it and ended up sharing the same enthusiasm with me, although I believe that this enthusiasm was not as intense as mine.
 
For some months, until April 1991, I believe, I was still under the effects of what he had read. Gradually, however, the impact of his reading was losing strength and two or three months later, had fallen almost into oblivion. Of course, I still had the book, looked at him with a mixture of joy, gratitude and pride, like a treasure chest of gold, but his teachings ultimately not solidify properly, and soon fell into oblivion, in the common grave of the great books read and soon forgotten. I think only two or three stories, as the text of "A letter to Garcia," the texts of Dale Carnegie and something about organization, planning, schedules and order remained in memory.
But my view about the self-help books has changed, and my relationship with them does not stop there, in Og Mandino only.

In 1994, Roni moved to Canada and took the copy of Mandino on luggage. It would be of some use in the uncertain future that he lay ahead, and it would be best used by him than by me.

Roni did not broke up the book and brought it back in 1998 when he returned from Canada. I do not know if it was helpful or not, if Roni came to reread it or not. Anyway, the book remained with him for some reason, and only a few years later, in 2000, on a visit I did to his home, was that I could make contact with Mandino again. When I looked at his small personal library, there was the book without cover, blue cover, older, more yellow, with lots of blotchs and  patches, inviting me to read it again.
 
I took it back and I still have it until today, as a dear and valuable object. Study it never ceased to give some good results. But it is a book that should be studied, then, as deeply as possible, not just read. While studying is always more tiring than just reading, it is always a more rewarding. I never tire of flipping through him and reread small portions, and to meditate on his words, phrases, themes and suggestions. A book that does not change, but it contributes to change myself, I believe, and therefore has a different flavor with each new reading. Incomplete, it is true, because finite, his words have served as seed for new reading on new books, in search to know deeply some theme, to clear better some reasoning. Anyway, he has been the a-b-c in the school of thought, the spelling book which I started reading new lessons, and although it sometimes may seem simple in its recommendations many times reread, he can also save valuable secrets, since we know to study it properly.

Document created: Feb 16, 2006

Document modified on Feb 1º, 2007

Sunday, January 9, 2011

Where to begin?

I said in my first post in this blog  that we need to record our ideas so we can eternalize them.

However, by the time I started this blog, also started a personal page. This page still exists, but is to flies and virtually anyone visit it. Neither myself. Just out of curiosity, the access address is http://rosenvaldo.simoes.sites.uol.com.br/ and as I write this post, this site was visited 178 times, probably most of the time only for me.

He begins with a declaration of intent equal to the first post of this blog and then follows with a "Where to begin?".

This second text is an attempt to justify the reasons which lead me to write about my life and my ideas.

I do not know if I have time or motivation to comply with this plan to record my life and my ideas, but the text justification is reasonable and so I make available here now:

"Where to begin?

Everything has a beginning. Have a beginning, however, does not mean that this beginning is simple or known. In fact, things happen exactly in reverse. All beginnings are mysterious and complex, even when they appear otherwise. Just that we pay some attention to this supposed simplicity, and it will fade away like smoke. Endless causal chains, multiple interactions between very many causes, most unknown, makes the origin of things is always foggy, slippery, vague. How much deeper we dig in the past, less we know about everything. Time erases the traces left by the sequence of events that generate things, and what remains are ruins that tell little, speak little, clarify little. Hence the importance of memory.

We need to record the facts. But not only the facts. We need to register the complex inner world, that we call mind, because is in the mind that things do happen. But it is not easy. Starting where our work record? What we have to add to what is already registered? The answer to this question may be what we have to add to what is recorded is exactly what no one has yet recorded, nor may record, better than ourselves, namely, that which is not accessible to anyone else that we for ourselves. Finally, there are facts and facts. There are facts that are accessible to all, and there are unique facts of each one of us, our mental facts. Perhaps we need not record the facts of the real world, because there are a lot of effort in the world toward this purpose, but any effort in the world will be able to record what goes on inside our minds, but to ourselves, if we are willing to do so, obviously.

But what the reason for this? What have we in particular to offer that is original to the world? What information should come to the fore of our minds to the knowledge of the world?

If we divide the contents of what is recorded in our minds, we would have two categories of information: the first would be composed of our personal history and the second of our ideas about the world. No one may be able to meet our personal history better than us, and nobody can know the result of our reasoning, unless we have disposition to reveal them to the world. But again, what the value of these informations?

We do not know. Humanity may have had thousands of great men, great thinkers, who lived and died and were forgotten by the simple fact that there are no records available about them. But not only the quality of our reasoning counts. Our personal story is unique as we are unique and have our own value for our uniqueness. The mere fact that we existed and have lived is itself a priceless good. Not that those who lived and left no records have not been valuable lives, but it is human nature to want to share experiences, whatever they are. Our biographies may not be the most exciting, but still, naturally, are valuable and deserve to be shared with the rest of humanity.

From where do we begin our biographies?

In how many ways the past can be described? Will we see ourselves in our past from the standpoint of which lens? How many lenses have we? These are difficult questions to answer. However, we have to answer them. The quality of our records depends on how we look at our past. Have we some basis to start something with this complexity? What are the tools available for the task? History, as a science, may be the answer. "

Well, history as science may have some answers on how to describe our past, but first we must study the methods that history as science gives us. This is a  long issue and I will not be now that I'm going to detain me (à la Hegel ...) in it.

I think I'll kill this site UOL. indeed, I'll leave all that refers to UOL back.

But not now.

Now I have more to do ...

Happy new year

In my fourth post in this blogin 2004, I used a quote from Muriel Rukeyser at the opening of my text. I said I did not know who was this author and promised to find out.

Well, Muriel Rukeyser was an American writer and activist, feminist rights advocate. She wrote a series of poems when was young and, well, I also said in the same text that would speak more about using phrases from famous people and the implications behind this custom. I will, but not now.

Before, I must to remember that we are already in January 2011. A new year begins and I hope it is a very good year. I hope it's better than 2009, a bad year and 2010, one of the worst imaginable year. We must be realistic: not all years are good years and there are years really tough.


I want 2010 to be remembered as a year personally difficult, but at the same time productive. A year of sowing, of struggle, achievement not effective yet, but in promise. Achievements to be fruitful in the years ahead.

I also remember that I'm on vacation. I'm in a premium lay-off, actually. The first of my life.

I'm home with absolutely no commitment, but by no means peaceful, calm or happy.

How can I be calm with a life so difficult? How can I be at peace when also 2011 promises to be one most very tumultuous and uncertain year? How can I feel happy with so many challenges?

How could I be happy just to be able to fight?

I do not know whether the mere struggle for life is in itself reason to be happy.

Anyway, I'm insecure, frustrated and without direction. I see no solution to my problems in the short term, and they, the problems, are many, though not necessarily fatal.

So that 2011 be a year of change, though not of peace and tranquility.

But this view of the uneasy future is just that: a vision. The world continues as it always followed, unmoved front of my life and my problems. I do not mean a thing and I step through life as a fly passes its existence in a vast and dense forests. I'm in my forties and living an existential crisis more severe and painful that I have lived in my last year. Yes, life is for me an eternal crisis. I'm hairy, bearded and fat. I'm terrible.
 
My chaotic life remains chaotic.

Just to try to lessen my feeling of guilt for not fulfilling my promises, for not having the courage to chase my dreams and for being a coward by not making decisions that could change my life for the better, so today I decided to tidy my books .

My bookshelves were and are crammed. I buy books compulsively, as if the mere presence of them forming one 
pile on a shelf would solve my problems.

Then, with free time and plenty of guilt, I decided organize this big disorder.

Then I counted the books.

Yes, I counted my books!

I figured it had something around 700 books.

But no: I have about 1330 books.

That's right: 1330 books or so.

So I came to a conclusion. I need time to read them, but this is not the main problem.

The hardest thing now is space. I need space. I desperately need the space.

I can not stand to live squeezed into my little rented apartment.

I'll have to change soon. I live in rent and I can not afford sufficient financial and professional stability to the point of buying my own property. We live in a speculative real estate bubble in Brazil and buy anything right now is pure idiocy. But one way or another, I have to move to another location within a few months.


It will have the opportunity to get more space. Oh, how I need space!

Incidentally, I've been playing Sim City 3000. I have my little town called Tujuguaba, obviously, and it was stagnant for years, with its 25,000 inhabitants. So, I took the day off and took a few hours to play. It's a cool thing.

I actually have hundreds of computer games that, like the books I bought and never played. In fact, even took the packaging. I always hoped that one day I would play them.

Compulsive shopping. Mania of accumulate things. Inability to enjoy things that could bring me pleasure. Afraid to get involved in vices. Yes, I have a lot of trouble.

I hope that in 2011 I at least try to address them.

Merry 2011, even though delayed by nine days long.