The unexpected triumph of my inner triumvirat: A self-help text

I remember shaking when I got the e-mail. I remember screaming and immediately hearing my brother’s footsteps approaching. His head was the first part of him to show up. It moved furiously ahead of his body like the cannonball of a pirate ship. His eyes reprehended my annoying high-pitched tone and he was about to remember me that I wasn’t a fifteen-year-old at a One-Direction concert (is that what kids listen to these days?) when his expression changed. His rage was interrupted by words that neither of us thought we were going to exchange. His expression transformed as I began to whisper the result that changed everything: I. got. In.

I hugged my brother. I hugged my brother’s best friend. I hugged that neighbor I didn’t like very much. I couldn’t breathe or stop shaking. I called my mom. I called grandma. I ran to the church to thank Jude, the Saint of Hopeless Causes. I forgot to put shoes on. I forgot where was the church. I was lost in a time-and-space vortex where things could actually work out for us.

Clarification moment: “Us” is a team. My team. We are composed of three players: the conscience, the beating heart and the mushy brain. A triad that was put together compulsorily, by the incomprehensible mystery of existence and compression powers of the craters and tissues of an awkward skin. We were going to the United States. The most ambitious plan we ever had – worked. And it was a door to the biggest challenges we ever had. Here is how we defeated them all (so far).

You see, we never had much faith in our team. Heart and Brain disagree in everything and Conscious sometimes just gives up and goes to dream-land – a place where Stephen Colbert likes us so much he wants to have us on his show every week and 1960’s Paul McCartney sings “When I’m 64” in our ear while whales take us to ride on an infinite press tour through the seven seas (free of plastic bottles and melting icebergs).

Moving meant we would have to trust our capacity to solve problems and embrace the inescapable truth that our team is, sometimes, all we can rely on. Moving to another country means, essentially, that you trust your team no matter what happens – or how ridiculous you may seem.

From the beginning, landing in New York meant trusting, and most importantly, embracing, the players that made our team. “I” (the nickname we use when referring to our triumvirate) does not know how to say goodbye or compliment people. We do not know when to stop talking or when to say things. And that is ok.

It is ok if people do not understand our English, or if we have to repeat a sentence more than a few times. Is anyone else going to be able to say what we need to say? Is anyone else going to assume the increasing responsibilities of our team? No. Our team is, most of the time, all we’ve got and we have to like it broken English or not because that is what we have here. This awkward-non-eloquent-sometimes-selfish-all-times-unperfect human compound is our representative in this new land.

Not that it was very different at home, but before we had so much structure to hide behind. People understood us more easily, we knew the social rules and at times we didn’t take all the risks we could take because opportunities could fall into our lap. Everyone knew us, independently of us getting out there. We were insiders even when we weren’t. Now we are naked, in the (more than) cold unknown and we have to make our mark.

To achieve that, we need to be exceptional: learn more, apprehend more, exchange more – and doing all that requires saluting our players and being more understanding of them. It means hugging the good and the bad to allow an opportunity for improvement. Because only through those lame existing tools can we face the world that lies ahead. Being mean to them will only result in a crisis and, if we are not careful, a full-on shut down. That last one is something we cannot afford when there is so much to explore, so much to live. The need to enjoy surpasses any obscure need to make members of our trio feel like they are not enough.

From the moment we understood this, the triumphs were many and the adventures multiplied: Other, new, unique and diverse teams have made lasting alliances with our group. Even though only two months have passed, we are confident enough to call them FRIENDS in caps lock; We have faced and improved aspects of our biggest defaults (3 – Stagefright, 2 – Time management, 1 – Fear of failure); We are happier at school and inside our headquarters. In other, more specific notes: we are going to work in Ethiopia this summer, an amazing boyfriend appeared (we can’t believe it either) and our team feels more prepared for the challenges that will come. We are, after all, here. That is proof of the efficacy and combat abilities of the mighty improbable triumvirate of Consciousness, Beating Heart and Mushy Brain. Weird but alive heroes that just need you to remember: Your improbable team rocks too.