Bajillionaire

I’m a pretty curious person. People fascinate me, especially the outliers.

So when I had the chance to talk with a Vietnamese bajillionaire (built up an
empire in pharmaceuticals, lost it all because of the war, and built it all up again), I
had to know.

Know what, exactly? That didn’t matter. When I’m curious, I can come up with an
infinite number of questions. Except in this case, I had time for just 1 question.

This 80-year old pharmaceutical giant had been talking with the other adults at our
dinner table for about an hour now. I was listening at the other end of the table,
fascinated, but unable to join in on the conversation due to my 7th-grade-ish
knowledge of Vietnamese.

She turned to me and jokingly commented that I must not have understood much
of the conversation that night, to which I replied in Vietnamese, “Well, I understand
much of it. I just wish I could speak Vietnamese better so I could join in on the
conversation.”

There was a slight pause, so I took my chance.

“There is something I’ve been wondering this entire time though, but I can’t ask it
correctly in Vietnamese. Maybe one of the aunts or uncles can translate for me.”

I turned to my uncle.

“What…does she think is the reason for her success? Why has she been so
successful compared to her other peers throughout her life?”

I waited for my uncle to translate my question. When he finished, her eyes bulged
at my aunt sitting next to her, as if she was saying “What kind of question…”

She started talking about how she was always a fighter, but the sound of her
words were already fading into the background as my mind’s chatter started
getting louder and louder.

What a pretentious question…

You always do this…

What a waste of a question…

Why would you even…

In the past, this chatter would have grabbed my mind’s attention and lasted for far
too long, along with an entire cascade of follow-up thinking.

Why’d you have to go and ask that…

Can’t take that back now…

I wonder what everyone else is thinking…

They must think I’m dumb

They must think something’s wrong with me

Did I make her uncomfortable

I must have made her uncomfortable

How to recover now…

It’s too late

But this time was different.

This time, I was able to see the chatter before my mind was pulled by it.

The berating
The commenting
The evaluating

The reevaluating
The checking
The rechecking

The worry
The stress
The rumination

My mind let it all go.

The old chain of 5 to 10 to 20 thoughts was now reduced to 4. The old, familiar,
twisting, sinking, anxious feeling in my stomach was now no more than a slight tingling.

And there I was, back in the moment, listening to the conversation.

—

Meditation’s changing me.

Seeing even more changes to my normal way of being is…exciting? Promising?

Intriguing.

I wonder how long this will keep up.

We’ll see.