Poetry Evening: Who Am I?

Have you ever wondered whether your success automatically means someone else loses out? It’s a deeply ingrained assumption in our culture — the idea that the world is a fixed pie, and every slice you take leaves less for everyone else. Michel de Montaigne, the sixteenth-century French philosopher and father of the personal essay, examined precisely this assumption in one of his shortest yet most provocative pieces of writing. Centuries later, his reflections still challenge the way we think about wealth, value, and what it truly means to build something together. The Heart of the Essay In Essay 21 of the first book of his Essais, Montaigne investigates the ancient belief that profit and loss are always perfectly balanced. The title says it all: “That the profit of one man is the damage of another.” He opens with a reference to Demades, an Athenian orator who condemned a trader on the grounds that his profession could only be profitable at the expense of others. This classical conviction serves as Montaigne’s launching point for deeper reflection. The essay is remarkably brief — even by Montaigne’s own standards. Yet within its compact frame, it delivers a fundamental critique of the economic thinking […]

You may have seen the footage. Thousands of Japanese football fans celebrating wildly in the streets — singing, dancing, erupting with joy — until the traffic light turns red. Then everything stops. Silence. Stillness. Only when the light turns green does the celebration resume. This scene struck me deeply. Not because of the football, but because of what it reveals about the human soul and its capacity for inner freedom. A Moment of Recognition Imagine yourself surrounded by thousands of people cheering, singing, and dancing. The emotion is overwhelming, the energy contagious. And then, at the peak of collective ecstasy, a red light appears. A simple signal. No police officer, no authority intervening. Just you and that light. What do you do? The Japanese supporters chose stillness. Not out of fear of punishment, but from something deeper — a rooted awareness that true joy does not vanish through a moment of restraint. On the contrary, they demonstrated that discipline and celebration can strengthen one another rather than cancel each other out. This is a spiritual lesson that resonates powerfully with me as a Freemason. The Art of the Voluntary Halt In Freemasonry, we often speak about subduing our passions. This […]

Picture two drivers on the same circuit, facing the same conditions, carrying the same ambitions. One pulls a flawless line through the corners of the Ardennes; the other ends up in the barriers. It’s an image you might recognize from your own life — moments where you perform brilliantly while someone beside you stumbles, or the other way around. What do you do then? How do you handle that inequality of fortune? And what does your response reveal about the nature of true connection? The Circuit as a Mirror of Life A racetrack is more than asphalt and curves. It’s a concentrated version of existence itself — risk, choices, timing, and the eternal dance between control and surrender. During a training session in the Belgian Ardennes this week, two experienced drivers had entirely different experiences. One drove smoothly and with composure; the other lost grip and crashed. Neither could have predicted the outcome beforehand. You probably know that feeling. You’re in the same meeting as a colleague, following the same training, facing the same challenge. Yet things go differently for you than for the person beside you. Sometimes you’re the one who falls. Sometimes you’re the one who keeps going. […]