"This blog sucks": Writing about "Writer's Block"

When Richard left, he gave me a book. My first week at the job I had asked him what his favorite book was and he had told me it's 'Vile Bodies' by Evelyn Waughn. Richard trying to be an enigma, I thought I'd read Evelyn Waughn. Really, I just wanted to know if Richard was smart at all; an assumption easily made after reading one's favorite book. But I never did. Now that Richard gave me that book, a book that smart people would read, I rediscovered that things can be said, or said beautifully. In our job, we express ourselves in tiny stories. In a way, not much individual expression takes place. Reading Evelyn Waughn on my holiday, this much needed time away from a very numbing last few months in terms of real passion for the words, I now see my writing and expression has taken a beating. But it's not the tiny story that killed it; it's the inevitability of losing the words when feelings are bottled up. And that's pretty much all I've been doing...

I recently mentioned my blog a few times. My team at work said they had read it and two of my friends were looking for clues about my life in that messy writing. While I heard I was read, I didn't feel good. Whatever I've been saying is not profound or helpful or even entertaining to anyone but it helped me make things clear to myself sometimes. If I write for myself, I can also fool myself. But not if its public. Hence, in these relatively emotional times, it's been hard to pen truths because I really can't say anything at all. My emotions are influenced by other people's miseries or lives, I have no right to discuss that. So in this moment, sitting on a train on the way to say goodbye to my best friend in London, then onto a plane to take me to Egypt, there's a plethora of emotional material. But my mind is empty. I have no words. It shouldn't be like that...

The things that have occupied my thoughts have no cure than to get away from here for a bit. As discussed, I have given my feelings absolutely no time to exist. Since August, I have drowned myself in work so a certain amount of thinking didn't have to be done. I have avoided decisions and I have procrastinated change. As a result, the words simply don't come. Beauty, misery, heartache, that's the fuel for words, not routine and comfort. I didn't want to let go of this blissful feeling I had since coming to Cambridge because of my job, my life, my relationships. There were many, many sources of happiness for me in the past year and only a few sources of confusion or sadness. I didn't give them space, and now they're demanding space.

Many people have told me they're simple people, that what I see is what I get, and I don't understand how and why they think that being "simple" is a quality. I am definitely not part of their club, neither do I try to be, I think that's fairly obvious. But there's also no way that other people are just sufficiently different from me and can just accept things that are affecting lives without experiencing emotional repercussions. Maybe I'm wrong. A friend once told me he started working with the homeless so he could "feel anything" because he wasn't even feeling empathy anymore. So really, being simple doesn't mean normal, it means apathetic. My two favorite people to leave the country within a week is forcing a reaction. I can push it away like I have, but to step away, go to a beach all alone, and take two weeks to think about it, apathy will be the last thing I feel. I'm excited about it because said reaction might bring the hunger for action back, for grabbing a pen and paper and writing stuff up. The last thing I would even want to be is apathetic. If I am, creativity dies. 

The space I need to consult these losses and, really, the past few months, can't be made at home. Lord knows, what I really want to do is stay in my room, sleep for two weeks and do anything but work. Truth is, all I would be doing is watch movies with my Spaniards, drink gin and tonic and eat crap because I'm too lazy to cook. Routines are toxic if you want to make a change. My change is coming: I need to ban a few people from the heart because they left or should be leaving, have to identify something else to keep me entertained but that somewhat reckless behavior I sometimes show and, finally, have to answer a few procrastinated questions. Well, I don't have to do any of that but it's a good idea and I'd like to be smart. Lord knows I haven't been... No harm done, but it needs to stop. Mamma needs to get some distance and reevaluate. As comfortable as it would be, home isn't the most fertile ground for original thought.

My writing has definitely suffered. Okay, before I was a mess and often unhappy but even sadness is fodder for the words. What needs to come back is not the talent or ability to write but the willingness to allow those feelings. Sure, most of my writing was ranting, but once in a while my insane thinking produced wisdom and made my life easier in the process. Today, I'm too busy to think. I try not to because the only rational conclusion to be made of my decisions in the last few months would be that I'm stupid. That doesn't feel good to realize. But that would be writing that means something. That would be a message. And learning could happen as a result. This "sticking to what I know works" is running away from the potential for growth. If I stay in my hood, don't consider change or the possibility that my directions could be wrong, I won't move. And moving is what I ultimately need to do if I want my writing, my thoughts to come back. This can't happen at home. And so I go to Egypt, a place that has done this for me, in pursuit to come back with the answer; the answer to how not to get stuck, break free from bad habits and let originality back into a life that has changed drastically from a month ago.

Emotions in Sinas World: Have I Actually Become English?

Here they come, my first words of 2018. Of course, I write for a living, already wrote dozens of tiny stories for my job, but there I'm a robot, here I am me. Or whats left of me. Sina, the writer, has taken a beating. This blog used to reflect my every thought, all the small things I was feeling. Today, I have too many secrets I can't address in a blog or developed an apathy to most things that made me feel things. One year in England and I have stopped feeling, great! Sort of. By the end of 2017, I didn't even feel sad about bad things happening anymore. This week, I had to say a very hard goodbye and yet, I'm writing this without crying. In fact, I haven't cried about it yet. Or at all since, like, the day I found out he'd be leaving. Have the English actually stained my personality?

I can speak openly about my devastation about my last goodbye because the departed never reads this. One time he did, made fun of me although the post was about him in a way, and then forgot I sometimes do this. At the same time, he would mock me for the expressive way of my feelings because he is the epitome of English: he has no feelings or at least tries his hardest to make himself think that. If he does read one day, he will learn nothing new when seeing that he was my favorite colleague. It's a very well-kept secret...not! Whereas sometimes I have used my writing to express things to people I wasn't comfortable talking about, I'm happy this guy wouldn't be surprised reading this. He might be surprised about my emotional stability over him leaving though but since he's English and doesn't feel and all, nothing makes a difference...

From day one at Amazon, I knew Richard and I would be friends. On day two, approximately, I told him that. Three months later, he finally obliged after a period of pointless resistance. You could say I left no choice but only because I knew I was right. And as of the day he left England for good, he had become pretty important to me even outside the office. But enough about Richard and more about myself: losing an integral part of your life for almost a year would be hard for me even if it wasn't someone I liked as much. In November, a guy from the other side of the office left and I choked up. For two months, I knew Richard would be leaving, and obviously I wasn't happy, just happy for him. It was easier because I supported his plan to leave and was probably more excited about his new opportunity than he was (Richard doesn't get excited in my sense of the word) but I thought I'd die when he leaves. And then he left and I held it together... So not like me! 

This is big news because I cried for a large part of my life. Everything that ever happened to me, good or bad, I cry. I feel ten things at the same time, I reconsider my whole life and I write epic blogs I can't wait to reread when I have decided how to feel about the issues. All this has changed. Sure thing, I miss Richard, but maybe I have just said goodbye too much. I do feel sad, I really do dislike coming to a Richard-free office and I pure hated speaking to him while imagining he's upsdie down to me at the other side of the planet but yo, I'll get over it. I pout and all, but losses have usually cost me weeks of brainpower. Whatever im feeling about the situation isn't even worth a blog; the fact I don't feel it is the story. 

Maybe I'm growing up and stuff doesn't affect me as much anymore. It's one possibility. But maybe I have actually learned from the English. I'm even sitting here drinking tea right now, and when I'm not it's usually a Gin & Tonic. Maybe this bottling-up-business does work, too. Hell, I have probably been doing that for the majority of 2017. What I feel changes on the daily and whenever I think about it, I just dismiss my thoughts. That's very much what I was doing with Richard's departure as well: dismiss. And I still don't really accept it because I'll probably see him soon. All easy, right? No need to think or feel. Everything is awesome! So English, yet so true. I did know this all my life, just implementing was always impossible. Maybe now that "no emotion" is the only emotion I ever get surrounded with, it's finally possible for me to also leave the heart behind and just live...

The part I never got about the English and probably have to change my mind about is that "no emotion" is not a bad emotion. To me, when an English man I saw earlier in 2017 said he doesn't feel, I immediately considered that a bad trait. I thought he'd be cold, not feeling. And when I realized he wasn't cold but a lovely man, sorta, I thought the assessment he didn't feel must be a lie. That isn't true. Suppressing feelings, controlling them, or not acknowledging them does not mean there are no feelings; it's just a way of handling them I for one have never tried. Right now, I am doing that and it's working, about a few things in life. I have some other things on my mind but  the devastating departure of my favorite  colleague and I just don't address them successfully. That ain't me, yo. In fact, I'm amazed I can do it. I doubt I'll ever manage to be cold. But I've only been in England for a year, who knows, next thing I know, I might actually start laughing about their jokes, too. 

One week in New York, a lifetime on the brain

We've all seen the movies: boy and girl walk through Central Park, the snow is glistening while girl wears a cardigan because, you know, Hollywood. That's the fantasy! So we book our tickets, come to NYC, and see Kevin McAllister on one and Rachel and Monica on the other side of the street. Yo, I wouldn't have anything to say right now if that was the truth. This week, I visited New York for the third time, but this time I chose to arrive during a blizzard the international press affectionately called the 'bomb cyclone'... Yay! Make no mistake, it was awesome. The one thing it wasn't was a fulfilled expectation after watching movies and shows. But what it was instead was a deep search into my soul, a cleaning up with the past and an emotional rollercoaster. If you've read this blog before, you won't be surprised...

It's been 12 years since I first stepped foot on New York soil. As a teenager, I had watched Victor Navosky aka Tom Hanks enter the USA via the doors of JFK International in 'The Terminal', imagining myself to do the same thing. Going to the United States was my dream! It was the land of the free, the place with all these people who are outgoing and dramatic like me and a state Germans looked up to since - and before - I was born. It was everybody's dream. Proudly, I posed for a photo in Central Park, an impressive skyscraper called 'Trump Tower' marking the skyline. Today, over a decade and a lifetime of experiences later, I stood in the same place. Of course, we've all changed; we realize we no longer have the same dreams. But more so than myself, the country has changed as well. Or well, it feels like it did, maybe it's me after all...

16-year-old Sina talked to a friend's dad for ten minutes and believed that the incumbent of the oval office in 2005 had a place being there. I still don't hate G. W. Bush, but I obviously hate the guy calling the shots now. The United States as a state, a political entity, is impossible to love. But all I saw this week is what I fell in love with initially: a guy with headphones on the Staten Island Ferry, dancing to whatever was on in his ears, shop attendants telling you their life stories while showing you shoes and every single person at any given shop smiling, saying "stay warm" because there was a blizzard going on outside. Some call it superficial but I couldn't care less; people being nice to me, pretending to care, are making me feel good, even when they're hypocritical Christians that are saying shit to get into heaven. Fine by me, makes my day. Little things go a long way, and for me, these little sentences, gestures, smiles go all the way. They make me want to come back!

There's no reason for me to prefer the US to Europe because Europe simply is the better place. Better health, better education, a better system. Yet, being around Americans this week makes me remember what I had there: being 'one of them'. In the US, I was normal, in Europe, I'm annoying, dramatic or loud. It gets worse living in England where people celebrate the fact they don't express themselves or even eat all their feelings up inside. That's like a quality there. Unfortunately, I don't possess that quality and quite frankly despise it. I like having small talk with a shop clerk. I like random dancers on the subway. I like loud, extravagant, chatty people. In New York, that's at any corner, in England I have to wait until a few Brits get shitfaced. One isn't better than the other, yet I forgot the feeling of being surrounded by people who are sorta like me. One is free to prefer the British way but I don't. Or the Egyptian way. Or the German way, for that matter. When it comes to people, I'm like my accent: American, or something like it...

Now there I was, walking through a blizzard in Brooklyn, remembering my dreams from back in the day. I thought my future was in the US, today I'm not so sure about that. Life in NYC seems rough and nothing like the movies. It's expensive and I know what wages are like, nevermind there's no healthcare and tons of debt for most people. Sure, NYC life isn't like the movies, but neither are British classics Notting Hill or Harry Potter. Both of these lives, the English and the American, were once my life, my vision, the place I saw myself. And now, after nearly 29 years on this planet in all these countries, some good, some very bad, I know for sure that feeling comfortable somewhere matters. And right now, I feel that place is England, but seeing it can also be New York, again, makes me restless once more. This might not be it. Maybe I'll go back one day. And if I do, I'm sure it will feel like coming back here: somewhat like coming "home".

2017: Turns out I'm not ready for "Boring"

I’ve been recapping my years in writing for ten years now. Essentially, this is how my blogging started. At first, I just talked about a year, and I was ridiculously negative so you could say I just ranted. Over the years, the writing, and especially the attitude, got better, and we are now at the end of 2017 and the rhetoric has changed mucho. It’s not just the improved grammar or the fact I realize that nobody really enjoys reading about how much I hate everything; it’s the life that changed. I got a new job and moved to a new country. But, when did I not? Now I don’t sound negative anymore, I sound big headed. But, at the end of this year, all I really see looking back is a year full of things I’d either done before or thought I never would.

Isn’t life amazing sometimes? I try to see this every day. For decades, I dreamed of being the person that could find happiness in the little things. I wanted to stop being the person that complains. I was over being called the drama queen. I truly hoped my whole life would change…again! And then all that happened. Once again, I relocated, found new friends, started a new life and made poor decisions. But this year, all the misery and bullshit that happened didn’t have the effect it had the other years. It never made me unhappy. And after 365 very challenging days, I’m happy, and I don’t know why.

This year, something pretty drastic happened. I always knew I was a pretty tough chick, and that I could do anything, yet I always thought that at least some of that supposed attitude was an attempt to fool myself. When it’s crunch time, I thought, I would fade like all the others. Sometimes things in life happen that most people can’t handle alone; they turn to family, friends, a loved one. Something along this line happened to me this year, and I was proven wrong: I wasn’t lying to myself, I really was tough as nails. Sure, even I want to feel supported or even weak, but it simply wasn’t possible. Nobody could help, so I didn’t ask; I knew I could do it by myself. I learned this lesson quickly and under unlucky circumstances but knowing that even rough challenges didn’t manage to break me feels pretty good.

So, the vast majority of the summer I spent in awe of the challenges I was facing. At no point, I felt bad. At no point, I felt desperate. It was the knowledge from previous years, I believe, that helped me through it because no other year than 2017 taught me more that failures and challenges have a way of just pointing you to the right direction. All these tear-filled nights in 2016 led me to the life I live now, riding my bike to work smiling almost every morning. I have a job I like, I’m surrounded by people I like there, I live in a house with enough love for a whole city and most of my problems are ridiculous. Like, my biggest “problem” is that most of the men I saw this year are mental but hey, it’s not a problem when it seems like I deliberately choose men who are not great… I just choose badly.

I always looked back on failed relationships and what I learned from them. This year, that doesn’t really work. The relationships I had never failed, they’re just… different. And so, I have arrived at the biggest silver lining of my year: there’s more than one way to do something. Relationships are just one example. Conventions, in all aspects of life, are not my forte; in fact, I reject them. I had to challenge some truths I considered unalienable: you must marry around 30, you can only love one person at a time, you belong in a certain country, you would never do certain things (that I did this year). Many, many of the things that shaped my life this year were things I never thought I would do. And for once, since I blog only occasionally, I stayed mum about them; I never had more secrets than now. Voices are loud telling me my decisions are bad, are controversial, are too risky, but I simply don’t regret them. So, my confusion is: are they really wrong then?

Its all great and all, but for 30 years? I doubt it...

Really, the only thing that changed this year, is my job. I started a pretty big shot job and got caught up in the life that comes with it. I live the most normal version of my life I ever have, so the excitement I am apparently addicted to had to come from other places. As a result, I tried to make a reasonably boring life in a small English city an episode of a soap opera. In short: I did a lot of really weird things to excite myself, some of them actions I referenced earlier I didn't even know I had in me. But that's where the learning came in: I just lived a pretty exciting life so far and thought I was tired. I believed, much like everyone else, I was ready for "this": settling down, Monday through Friday routines, a dog, no travel and, like, one man, maybe. Truth is, I'm not ready; and contrary to other years, I'm now considering the possibility I will never be ready.

At this point, I would like to talk about how exciting it was to relocate, to move somewhere new and meet new people, but I’d simply be lying. My head has gotten THAT big, yes. My relocation to England was a desire and I am overly grateful that it happened, but it just did not excite me as much as that would have done years ago. Altogether, this year was definitely the most boring year of my life but -  and here comes the big head again -  I just lived a pretty exciting life. 2017 was when I consciously decided to tone it down a bit, only to find out that it’s not time yet. So now I head into 2018 without a resolution or a plan because if there’s one thing I learned, it’s the knowledge that as long as I’m moving, I’ll get closer to where I need to be. But where that is, I couldn’t care less…

The Top 5 Best Christmas Songs Of All Time

Christmas never had a bigger fan than me. I’m very often slightly blue at Christmas because I miss my father or someone I would have liked to spend the holidays with me. But overall, time for those movies, those mulled wines and THOSE SONGS is just great news. Yes, yes, the birth of our Lord, that’s great piece of news, but those songs…! I started Christmas on November 12 this year with my tree and playlist, and kept saying “oh wow, this is my favorite Christmas song” because they’re just all so good. But now, a day after, it’s time to settle this. THESE are the best songs for Christmas:

1.Darlene Love – Christmas (Baby Please Come Home)

This song is perfect. It works for a blue Christmas and Christmas cheer. The lyrics are sad and relatable, the melody a holiday banter parade. That key change makes me shiver. I can sing my pipes out when doing this one. I’m imagining a 90s New York Christmas movie when hearing this, the woman running towards a man, kissing him in the snow under a mistletoe. In other words: I’m imagining a cheesy 90s Christmas movie that’s only acceptable in the season of love. And Darlene Love’s best song is going to be relevant for all of time. There isn’t a single holiday that we don’t miss someone once we’ve reached a certain age. So, without being sad, I can sing this cheerful song that’s really about missing somebody. Because I do, of course…

2.Christmas Canon

I don’t know what I remember when I hear Christmas Canon but my heart is filled with those early childhood memories that hurt like hell when you just begin being an adult. I had a very rough start into adulthood. At 16, I was left on my own in the States, no longer being able to do what children do: go home and cry to my daddy. A year later, I didn’t even have one. I often missed being a child and was not ready to grow up. Christmas Canon always reminds me of that. It’s a song from children, for children, and Christmas is a time for children; maybe that’s why my heart feels funny when I hear it. It’s easier these days, my heart no longer hurts, because I’m so flipping happy to be grown up. Nevertheless, one day, I think, this feeling will come back. Maybe I’ll miss being in my 20s. I find it highly likely with the life I’m living…

3.Frankie Goes To Hollywood – The Power of Love

One of my earliest childhood memories is my father giving us a computer for Christmas. We were in the attic, setting up Windows 95. The computer was going to change our lives, we didn’t even know how much yet. On the radio, this song came on, and for the first time in my life, I remember, a song almost made me cry. I didn’t understand a word because I didn’t speak English but the melody was so heartbreaking to me. That was one of my happiest moments of my life, I was so excited about the computer, and all of my family was together. Today, I understand this song, which makes it no less special. I genuinely believe that love is the best thing in the world and that it can “clean the soul”. One of the reasons I never got married is the following line; I want nothing short of this in my life before I’d consider doing that:
“I'll protect you from the hooded claw
Keep the vampires from your door
When the chips are down
I'll be around with my undying
Death defying love for you
Envy will hurt itself”

4.Oh Holy Night

My favorite of all the traditional songs is definitely Oh Holy Night. Sure, I really don’t care so much when Jesus was born, knowing there’s only a one in 365 chance it really was December 25, but this is what we grow up believing. If I ever have children, I would love for them to live Christmas the way I did when I was a kid although. This song is this early memory of singing along to the English Christmas songs I liked so much, only understanding “Jesus” and “Christmas”. Then, I believed, one day my own kids would be singing this song. And right now, if I have kids, it looks very much like they will.

5.Shakin Stevens – Merry Christmas Everyone

In uni, this was the last song that would come on at the Union before we started our break. The big Friday Christmas Party would play this song at 2.27am, the lights came on right after. And then, we were all hugging and kissing as we parted ways for that year. This memory is so wonderful because it is the essence of Christmas: being together, counting blessings and enjoying each other’s company. Sure, I was also very, very tipsy but that’s not what made the moment. I hope I will never take for granted that I was lucky enough to have those friends that I missed while I was in Germany for two weeks and that I had something to come “home” to – after I had gone home.

The simple English country life - that life they all want?

Today, I was walking in a cute Cambridge neighborhood. You've seen English movies, you can imagine this idyllic serenity. The air smelled of cookies, every front yard had fresh flowers and the look into the houses revealed a luscious Christmas tree and a motherf**ing fireplace. My company brought a dog and so me and English gentleman were walking through the smallest city in the world, looking into family homes displaying all of that insane happiness people want to see there. I was wearing a hat, he was wearing leather gloves, the sun was shining and we were living the countryside dream. Like, even a dog was there. Sounds good right? Almost perfect. Yeeeah, let's talk about that. This entire city is full of people who came here to live that dream. Most of them brought two kids. But me and doggy daddy were thoroughly unimpressed. Turns out there's two people in this town that are not living this dream.

"Would you want to live this life?", I asked him. We talked about this a lot before, quite possibly bonding over the fact we were quite possibly the only two people in Cambridge that didn't actually come here to procreate. It looks sooo good, that life. As if I didn't want a house. Or a dog. And a roast every Sunday. The truth is, and that makes it so hard to want it, what else is there? I've been in this life for almost 30 years and sooo much has happened. No year was like the other, I was very rarely bored. I then decided to take up the least boring job in the world, as had this guy, journalism, and we never did anything to get any closer to this life we saw in this street today. We were always able to change everything about ourselves on a whim. Soon he is getting on a one way plane to the other side of the world. If he had a house, a dog, this life, that would simply not be happening.

I feel like this life is the place people work for. But when you achieve that, what else do you work for? I've been looking for love for 15 years but what if I found it? I've been working on my career for ten, but what if I got a house and settled down? I've been living arguably the most exciting life I could have, but what if I had a child? I like the unpredictability of life and the fact my life today is the opposite of what it was this time last year. Once I buy that house in that street, get that dog and make that baby, that's what it will be from there on out. It's what they call "arriving". I understand everyone wants that, as do I. The idea sounds so beautiful. But the expectation sounds unlikely to hold up because expectations are rarely a good thing. This one, 30 years in the making, sounds like an epic way to feel empty very quickly. Can a simple reality, a never-changing routine, satisfy a person for 30 or more years if the previous 30 were the complete opposite? I would love if it could. I doubt it can.

So since I had these thoughts today I decided to knock myself out: I watched 'The Holiday'. I saw this movie before, needed a Christmas film, and remembered the English countryside life to be the theme of this cheese feast. Let's forget it's actually the cheesiest movie in the world, but here we have Jude Law being a rural daddy in the nicest of places with the cutest of kids. It's been 11 years since I saw it first, thinking that one day I would live that life: suburban London, working at the paper, making hot chocolate for my children. Well, not quite huh? I see Kate Winslet's house in Surrey now and find it just as appealing as in 2006, only today I know something very real: that's not me. It might never be. I see the movie, and reality, and I'm happy for everyone who found their happiness that way. I just doubt that the eventuality of that life would not scare me. Why "arrive" when you can keep traveling?

I could very well only think that because living that life is not in the cards for me right now. Then again, the fact I can't for sure say that this is what I do or do not want, means there's quite a lot left to figure out before making the decision. I feel many people haven't actually given it the necessary thought but just rolled with the expectation that buying a house, having a family and making roasts is what life is all about. It's a great idea, it's just not the only one. I sincerely hope I turn into the person at peace with herself enough to be able to live this life, maybe making more life for the right reasons, but I simply don't know yet if I will. And if I don't, I don't think that's a bad thing. There's a whole world out there, not just an English cul-de-sac.

Movember: "But wait, Sina, you cant grow a moustache!"

A few weeks ago, my colleague mentioned Movember. You know, that charity thing where men wear mustaches to raise money for cancer and stuff. I knew it from uni where November was always the funnest month, culminating in an 80s party so that all these mos could be displayed while drinking copious amounts. So yeah, that sounded fun. Amazon, hundreds of Computerfreaks with a mustache, could be worse. The idea to do it with my four colleagues, all men, quickly died. It just wasn't good enough. Two minutes later, I had created an all Amazon team, got my team members in Luxembourg and Munich on board, and prepared to make a few bucks. Another two minutes later, I had decided I would be doing this with the entire Cambridge office, they just didn't know it yet. Fast forward one month and a bit, all these people raised almost 4,000 pounds, we completely transformed the workplace and the way people talk about mental health and... I am now the president of a charities committee I didn't even know existed. But let's start up top...

The whole Movember thing was about mental health for me. Not only do I know many affected men, I lost two to suicide this year. What can be done? Raising money certainly won't do it. But I started thinking about my immediate surroundings first as I like doing when 'reaching out' with something of a charitable cause. Amazon, my workplace, hires men that like sitting at computers, seldom exercise and then get a wasabi for lunch, all while working too much because working at Amazon is actually either super demanding or super fun or both. Losing oneself in a life we live really isn't that hard. We choose it, yet we allow it to take over sometimes. And a healthy life simply looks different. Throw in a wife and two kids, and a man will definitely say no thanks to a run after work or a counselor on Saturday. So whether we want it or not, we're all part of the problem. Luckily, we're all part of the cure as well: friendship!

So I knew that the money this would make wouldn't save my coworkers' lives. As far as I was concerned, if there was one Amazonian who had ever hated their life, the fact they saw their employer take initiative in tackling mental health at the workplace would be a game-changer. I want to work for someone who cares about community and accepting people no matter what they are or what they struggle with. So I had to make my workplace that place. It would change lives, not only of those whose life was threatened. I came up with some event ideas that would bring everyone together. Sure, we'd make some money, but mainly we would get to know each other and possibly make connections that would lead to friendships someone who struggles feels comfortable enough with to seek help with. Whoever thought the office was a place we just come to because someone pays us to do it would have had a hard time getting through this month.

On day one I got a barber to shave the men, we had golf sessions on our corporate rooftop for people to make friends, a pub quiz, talks about mental health and male cancer, a lunch event in which some amazing colleagues volunteered to cook for everyone and a closing party. It sucked so much to get everyone to contribute, it was hard as f***. One guy started a book sale, some did bake sales. Most people did nothing. But woah, that's not what we came here to read. If they wanted it or not, all of my colleagues had to give male health issues at least a thought during this month. I dare say that some might even have reflected whether they are acting correctly. And then, most importantly, those silent people who possibly know that they have issues they feel alone with saw that we are all at the very least interested in helping them. If we can remains a different questions, but hopefully they know. I know people in my surroundings know I will not judge and will help where I can. And so, the mission has been accomplished.

My favorite moment was when I was talking to a new hire that said to me he enjoyed the events because it was the only time he got to meet people outside of his team. I have no trouble with this, I know the vast majority of the office, but others are not loud and do accept the nos I got for trying to befriend people, and for them to have gotten together means a lot to me. Another guy came up to me with some ideas, now he might join our committee that I was pretty much made the chair of that brings these people together. We have affinity groups for minority employees and all of them now feel empowered to actually do something to make Amazon a community and not just their job. To have had a hand in that feels really good although it cost me almost all of my free time and some of my work time. Don't tell my boss... Or do because he was on the team and gave the d'accord for this so basically I owe him a thank you. I will temporarily retire from my charity role now because damn, I'm tired, but maybe a small fire has started and this will be a catalyst for change. And at the end of the day, through all this talk maybe someone actually learned we're not immortal and we need to take care of ourselves... And each other!