In awe, I was...

We cry for attention. We die for love. And in between what’s good and pure, the worst often hides in plain sight undeniable and abusive.

• What does the space determine?
• Who notices the intention first?
• Why does abuse reign free?

— Black. #recognize

It’s just a suit. It’s just a room but nothing is the same.

Breaking out that old black tie attire, I had the honor and pleasure of joining a fellow #hoya and dear friend at the Oxford & Cambridge boat race dinner at none other than the Harvard Club in NY.

The evening was lovely and the venue was like a chapter from an old history book filled with stories hidden in every nook and cranny.

I would be remiss if I didn’t pay heed to what the space created — what the fabric donning the skin reflected. We change without changing. We become a piece of the grandeur of the space that we inhabit.

As my friend commented, the world’s decisions are made in those rooms and somehow you feel its influence even in passing.

— A Mounted Elephant. #understand

And out of the majesty that crowned that moment, an elephant mounted in the main hall drove a chill down my spine that would leave you in awe — a display of power and hubris not to be bothered.

And there lies an indifference extremely noticeable where attention is paid neither by pedigree or intention but simply by presence.

It merits a pause.

Neither of the faculties that control the acknowledgment were even engaged by the time the assessment and impact were felt. Our biology and evolution have already dictated the moment.

Determined it was and in surprise it catches us. A behavior might follow in words, actions, or others yet where does that leave intention? Was it skipped? or was it an interpretation after the fact to give us a sense of control?

Is the intention dominance? Or power? Or grandeur? and in those and all is that projection that narrates what to follow? Hard to tell, yet the feeling is hard to shake.

— Beyond reproach. #accept

And here we are. The most dangerous story to tell is that circumstances determined the moment rather than our intention that willed it into doing so, leaving us with the burden of justifying the good ones vs the bad ones.

Dangling beyond reproach and flattered by its own exuberance, good intentions reign free all too often masking something else worth noting: abuse.

I confess it makes the ego crumble at the notion of goodness married with abuse, yet if the moment is claimed by the circumstances and reflects the behavior that follows does the intention justify it all?

The accounts may vary. The jury is still up. Yet, it doesn’t hurt to be wary of the attention directed at the intentions that justify themselves as “good” while delivering the worst forms of abuse.

The moment was all too powerful not to stand in awe of the presence it commanded in the rooms where history is made with a photo to remember.

Until next time,
Carlo