A friend is, in effect, another self and friendships are "the best and most beautiful equipment for life (p106; p93)." Cicero's "On Friendship" is THE GREATEST piece of philosophy I have read on the nature of friendship: BREAKING FALSE BELIEFS (p94): Cicero breaks apart some of the common falsities which we take for granted of our friends, and explains why we are mistaken in believing them: 1. "We should apply the same energy to friends as we do ourselves." This is false because "there are many things that we would never do for our own sake, but will do for the sake of friends." 2. "Our good will towards friends should match and correspond to their good will towards us." This is false because it "limits friendship to mere equality in actions and feelings." True friendship "doesn't worry about giving more than it receives (...); to contribute more than its share to the friendship." 3. "Friends should place the same value on us as we place ourselves." This is false because "it's often the case that a person’s spirit is too abject or his hope of bettering his situation is too broken. It’s the friend’s job not to feel the same way, but to make an effort to lift the other person’s languishing spirit and lead him to a better and more hopeful way of thinking." CICERO'S LAWS OF FRIENDSHIP: 1. "Seek only good from friends, do only good for the sake of friends - and don’t wait to be asked! Be always attentive! Banish hesitation! Be ready to give advice freely! Take seriously the good advice of friends. Be ready to offer it openly, even forcefully, if the occasion demands - and also be ready to follow when it’s been offered (p90).” 2. "Don’t ask for anything shameful, and don’t do anything shameful if asked (p89)." THE FOUNDATIONS OF FRIENDSHIP 1. Virtue. “It’s only fair first to be a good man, then to look for another like yourself. With such men it’s possible to have the sort of stable friendship I’ve been discussing, and when they have been united in good will they will take control of the very desires that enslave everybody else, they will rejoice in fairness and in justice, they will always be on the lookout for each other, they will never demand from each other anything wrong or dishonourable. They will cherish, love and even revere each other. Indeed, to take away reverence from friendship is to remove its most precious jewel (p101).” 2. Common Interests: In his dialogue, Cicero writes that the essence of friendships is to be in full agreement in priorities, commitments and opinions (p80). “There’s a similar feeling of love that comes into being when we meet someone whose nature and morals are compatible with ours, for we think we see integrity and virtue burning brightly in them (p85).” “Differing habits accompany differing pursuits. Such differences pull friendships apart (p99)." 3. Trust: Trust is what secures the stability and constancy we seek in friendship. Nothing is stable if it cannot be trusted, this is why it's "equally important to choose someone who is candid and sociable and emotionally compatible" they are equally affected by the same things we are, "all of these things contribute to trust (p96)." 4. Assurance: “It is far from being the case that friendship is cultivated because of need; on the contrary, the kindest and most generous people are those who have the least need of others, thanks to their own wealth of resources, and especially their virtue, which is the greatest source of protection (p92).” Cicero adds that "the more confident you are, the greater your own virtue and good sense, the less needy and more self-reliant you are, the greater success you’ll have in making and keeping friends (p86).”

This is a very brief post that will serve as a starting point for a new series of ideas stemming from Paulo Coelho's literary works. Have you ever experienced that rush of success when you first start something new? That sense of unexpected fortune that feels almost like luck? In The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho, the idea of "beginner's luck" invites you to think about the beginning of Santiago’s journey. At the start, the main character experiences a series of seemingly miraculous events—his early encounters with a crystal merchant and the king of Salem are conveniently filled with opportunities that seem to fall into his lap. This initial "luck" is more than just a coincidence—it serves as a sign from the "universe" (I know, I know, it cringes me out to use certain terminology, but stay with me), nudging him forward toward his dreams. It’s as if the universe is telling him, "You’re on the right path." The concept of beginner’s luck might sound familiar to anyone who has dared to follow a new path. Often, when you start with nothing in a scary new situation but hope and faith, the world seems to align in mysterious ways, offering just the right people, moments, and opportunities. But here’s where it gets interesting: It’s not just about luck—it’s about embracing the journey to the greatest extent and being open to what comes next. Santiago’s luck isn’t the kind of luck that stays forever. As he ventures further into his quest, he faces challenges and setbacks. Yet, the early moments of fortune serve as reminders that “beginner’s luck” will supports those who truly pursue their calling. In The Alchemist, beginner’s luck is not a fleeting fluke but a sign that the journey is worth it, and that “beginner's luck” often helps those brave enough to follow their dreams. This is a brief introduction to his main concept. It’s a reminder that, with a little faith, the world can help guide you toward your greatest self. And for those questioning what’s the point of trying so hard, bear with me, and I will attempt to show you why it is all worth it.

What strikes me most in B.I. #42 is the question it leaves with us, echoing a familiar complexity in our work. In Interviewee #42, we see characters grappling with a contradiction - whether to despise or admire a father who has sacrificed pride for duty. While #42 can’t seem to resolve his feelings, I find myself thinking: there’s a quiet, nobility in this father’s work. For me, the distinction lies in the profound difference between humility and humiliation—a line you subtly explore and bring into stark relief. Humility is the willingness to lower oneself out of love or duty to others, to sacrifice ego and pride in the service of a greater good. It’s the postal worker who braves the elements every day to provide for his family, the volunteer who gives time to support a cause. Humility stems from purpose, from a sense of responsibility that extends beyond oneself. Humiliation, on the other hand, is rooted in self-centred motivations—a pursuit of attention or money, even if it comes at the cost of dignity. Think about the lengths people go to every day for attention or validation, even if it means sacrificing their own dignity. Consider the calculated social media posts, where we sometimes reveal more than we’d like just to get a few more likes or comments. It’s the friend who laughs a little too loudly at their own expense in a group, or the co-worker who bends over backward to impress the boss, even at the risk of being taken advantage of. We see it when someone overshares a personal story, hoping it will make others see them in a certain way, or when people push themselves into social circles that don’t truly respect them, all in search of approval. These examples aren’t as flashy as your stereotype reality TV show, etc, but they come from a similar place: a desire to be noticed, to be relevant, or even to find acceptance. It’s amazing how much we’re sometimes willing to give up—even our own comfort or authenticity—for the fleeting feeling of being seen or valued by others.

“The most important realities are often the ones that are hardest to see and talk about.” In the speech - which would later become known as "This Is Water" - Wallace introduces his argument by using a parable about two young fish swimming along. An older fish passes by and asks, “How’s the water?” The young fish swim on for a bit, and then one turns to the other and asks, “What the hell is water?” Arrogance This anecdote serves as a metaphor for our blindness to the most fundamental aspects of our lives. Wallace explains that we are often oblivious to the mental and emotional "water" we swim in—our default settings that dictate how we interpret and react to the world. One of the most treacherous aspects of this default setting is arrogance. Wallace shares a story of an atheist and a religious man discussing the former’s near-death experience. Both view the event through their own lenses, each arriving at vastly different conclusions. Wallace’s point here is that “blind certainty” can imprison us without our knowledge. When we become trapped by our arrogance, we are incapable of seeing the world from other perspectives. Reject Your Default Setting Wallace then expands on the concept of the “default setting,” which he defines as the unconscious belief that we are the center of the universe. This egocentric perspective can turn mundane experiences—like navigating traffic or standing in line at the grocery store—into sources of frustration and misery. The power of rejecting our default setting lies in choosing to see these everyday annoyances differently. When we choose to recognise the humanity in others, when we choose to see a crowded store not as a hassle but as an opportunity to practice patience and empathy, our experience shifts dramatically. This is not about suppressing negative feelings but about acknowledging them and choosing a more intentional response. Find True Freedom The final lesson Wallace offers is perhaps the most profound: true freedom comes from mastering the power of attention and awareness.

“The more things change, the more things stay the same” is something that I would often hear one of my dear friends say. I now invite you to take some time to read the (brief enough) short story by David Foster Wallace “A Radically condensed History of Postindustrial Life”. “When they were introduced, he made a witticism, hoping to be liked. She laughed very hard, hoping to be liked. Then each drove home alone, staring straight ahead, with the very same twist to their faces. The man who’d introduced them didn’t much like either of them, though he acted as if he did, anxious as he was to preserve good relations at all times. One never knew, after all, now did one now did one now did one.” Q. What kind of question is that? I guess… “One never knew”. Q. When he says the phrase "now did one”, repeated three times, perhaps due to the cyclical nature of the narrative and the repetitive patterns of human behaviour. But is it as simple as that? Perhaps, yes. Maybe, the absurdity lies in how individuals often find themselves in similar predicaments despite the passage of time. But then, is all our effort meaningless? does any of it truly matter in the grand scheme of things? Q. What? despite of your efforts, despite life changes, sweat, tears, despite you have given your everything, does it not matter? Q. I suppose so. On one side, there is a gloomy cycle where people fail to learn, and a cycle is formed. On the other, more optimistically, there is the opportunity to live life. There is the opportunity to know that despite it all, “the more things change, the more things stay the same”. Q. I suppose one can find some comfort in that, I mean, “After all, now did one”.