Yesterday, for the first time ever, I presented a book
review.
The book I chose was Ayn Rand’s ‘The Fountainhead’ a book I read again
for the fifth time and each time I find new meaning and takeaways.
I winged it like I normally do. Sigh! The universe however
seemed to conspire in my favor as I received
decent feedback on the presentation.
Truth be told I’m a lazy f*ck. If I can get away with my
apparent charm (sic!) or the apparent illusion of someone who’s got their game,
I will.
I did spend some time on the speech draft and while I was writing
it, a few hours before the presentation I was nervous (a rare occurrence) and
worried that I wouldn’t do the book the justice it deserves.
Time to present and I do so with absolute joy, the abundance
of which all else seems pallid and it did! For the 7 odd minutes I was in a
state of pure euphoria and ecstasy.
Post the review, I got to hear that it was decent and was
thanked. Which confounded me really, I didn’t do anything that stemmed from
altruism, I did it for myself, for the absolute pleasure it gave me.
Books are my lifeblood, the gossamer strings that bind my
soul and the juice that fuels my engine.
Ironic the choice of the book really. The Fountainhead is
all about the individual over collectivism.
Posting below an excerpt from Howard Roark’s speech below:
“It had to be said: The world is perishing from an orgy of
self-sacrificing. I came here to be heard in the name of every man of
independence still left in the world. I wanted to state my terms. I do not care
to work or live on any others. My terms are: A man's RIGHT to exist for his own sake.”
The book review was what I did, for my own sake. Which got
me thinking, in much of this drama called life we do things that resonate with
us intrinsically.
Yet we cloak it in a mantle of self-sacrifice and make it
seem like we’re doing it for others.
Time to call out one’s bullshit, mine primarily.
I exist, for myself. Much of what I do is because it makes
me happy. And I’m finally not ashamed to say it.
My choices on how my life should be and who needs to be in
it stems from my need to feel fulfilled.
Within my core.
Fumble, stumble and crumble I will. But will find the faith
that Christ’s doubting disciple lacked at first and discovered later.
Mine! and I claim it. Without apology.
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