The biopic “A Complete Unknown” explores the early career of Bob Dylan as played by Timothée Chalamet. Apart from Dylan’s life and music, the film walks the audience through a period of American history between 1961 and 1965. One of the pivotal scenes in the film occurs at the height of the Cuban missile crisis, when Dylan is depicted singing “Masters of War” in the basement of a nightclub. At the conclusion of the performance, he tells the patrons, “Troubling times, go find someone to love.” There is a lot of meaning packed into this one statement, however straightforward. The remark implies that a relationship with someone we love is the most valuable of commodities, particularly during periods of hardship and uncertainty, because it offers comfort and support. These relationships, Chalamet’s Dylan suggests, are critically important in helping us confront and endure our struggles and challenges.
When we consider the nature of all life’s relationships and the time invested in them — be it a relative, friend, acquaintance, neighbor, or social contact where there is a meet-and-retreat — the connection that in most instances supersedes all of them is that of the partner or significant other. Indeed, a committed or wedded partnership is a relationship like no other because it reflects all of one’s dimensions — the great, the good, the not-so-good, the bad, and the ugly. Through the benefits of time and adversity, the nature — the true essence — of the individual lies bare, ultimately revealing the truth of one’s character. We let another person in, voluntarily, of course, and this intimate access provides the kind of perspective that would otherwise be closed off. It gives a vantage point that allows them to say: I have seen you without the mask (the one each of us wears in our daily, public performances) and still I love you. After all, it is easy for an audience to “love” a person they believe to “know” when there is no knowledge of the person other than as a performer. For this reason alone, there is great vulnerability in the matrimonial relationship.
The philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche once wrote that the institution of marriage was beneficial to society for the purpose of raising children. In other important matters, he purported that the union, given its associated obligations, was an albatross on personal advancement and achievement. His perspective, even if partly true, should be approached with some caution, however, because he was not speaking from experience. In fact, it may have come from a place of resentment because on several occasions he proposed to the same woman, who always declined his overtures. Notwithstanding Nietzsche’s slanted view on marriage, are there parts of ourselves that can be strengthened from the only relationship that sees us from a place that is not theatrically disguised — the backstage, as the famed sociologist Erving Goffman described it — where we retreat and “let our hair down?” Can the introspection afforded by such a partnership be parlayed into making us better versions of ourselves, or at the very least, better court managers?
***
The U.S. Open was in full swing, and Toni had invited me over to watch a matchup between an Italian and an Argentinian player she had been following. I would not call her a sports fanatic by any means, but she did pay attention to major international events — tennis grand slams, the Olympics, World Cup soccer, and the like. She decided to stay in to watch the match and asked some of her paisans to join her over some drinks and tapas she had prepared. Despite her insistence that she didn’t need anything, I arrived about an hour earlier than the other guests to see if she could use my help.
I knocked on the screen door, announcing myself as I walked in, “Permesso?”
Leaning back in her chair from the kitchen to look in my direction, “Entrare,” she said with a chuckle. “I see that you’re brushing up on your Italian. Prepping for your trip that’s coming up?”
“You might say that. It’s been so long that I feel I’ve lost most of it.”
“You’re overthinking it. It’ll all come back. And by the time you start thinking in Italian again, America will beckon you back home.”
“Never fails,” I agreed.
“Truth be told – most people there speak English these days, so you’d get by with just a few words: ‘si’, ‘per favore’, ‘grazie’, and ‘prego,’” Toni commented, raising a finger after mentioning each word.
“You don’t need any of that! The most important phrase you need to know is: ‘Potete offrire uno sconto migliore?’” Jack, Toni’s husband, exclaimed from the family room where he was watching the pre-match coverage.
“I didn’t realize you were here, Jack,” I stated, peering into the space from the kitchen. “How goes it?”
“I can assure you, asking folks if they can offer a better discount is not the indispensable phrase,” Toni retorted.
“You could not be more wrong. That and ‘Dov’è il bagno’ should be on your cheat sheet,” Jack stated while gesturing with his index finger to the side of his head.
“He’s not going to have any trouble finding a bathroom, although you’ll likely need to pay to access it, so you’ll want to make sure that you always have some euro change,” Toni stated.
“Why would they expect you to pay? Are there no public restrooms?” I asked.
“Not many. For the few that you may find, you’ll need to pay a euro. And if you go into a private establishment, the expectation is that you buy something as a courtesy,” Toni responded.
“That’s why the available discount is important,” Jack argued.
“Forget all that,” she said, waving her hand in Jack’s direction. “You’re here early, so you’ll be the first to try the tea I made for the Open. It’s been sitting a minute, so it should be well-brewed by now,” she stated, pouring each of us a cup.
I lifted the cup with two hands, taking in the aroma, and took a sip.
“It’s herbal — wild blueberry with acai. What do you think?” she asked.
“It’s excellent, but what does this blueberry tea have to do with tennis?”
“It doesn’t — I made it up,” she stated.
“Good one,” I chuckled. “So, we can enjoy this tea irrespective of whether we’re watching tennis,” I concluded.
“Yes, you can, and I believe we will.”
A knock came at the door, and a man opened the screen, stating, “You’re all set, Toni. I’ll leave the keys for you here,” he stated, placing them on the kitchen counter.
“Come on in, Terrence. What can I offer you? A drink, maybe?” Toni asked.
“I’d love to, but I’m running short on time.”
“Before you head out, what do we owe you?”
“Catch up with me on Monday. It didn’t take long, so no charge on the labor, just the parts.”
“That’s kind of you. Jack will stop by first thing Monday.”
“Perfect — see you then.”
“Thanks again.”
“Who’s that?” I asked.
“Our mechanic. Jack heard a whistling noise coming from the car and thought the serpentine belt might need replacement.”
“I didn’t know mechanics made house calls.”
“We offered to come and get it, but he said he would bring it by because he was headed in this direction to drop off one of his guys from work.”
“That’s a thoughtful mechanic.”
“He’s exceptionally good. And just as importantly, he’s trustworthy, so we’ve gone to him for years even though there are shops much closer,” she stated.
“It pays then to keep giving a person like that your business.”
“I knew an older gentleman when I first immigrated here who told me, ‘The key to making it in America is having access to four people: a good lawyer, a good doctor, a good accountant, and a good mechanic.’”
“Reasonable advice. Although I imagine you already knew that,” I stated.
“He’s right for the most part, but I would add that the key to making it anywhere (including America) is having a good partner in life.”
“Someone you can rely on and will be honest with you. Like your mechanic,” I joked.
“It could be someone who’s also a mechanic,” she stated while laughing. “But it’s a person with whom you share some roots — who knows your memories. Who knows who you are. This intimate knowledge is critical and may make you feel exposed in some instances, but it’s what enables them to give you the type of unconditional love everyone can use from time to time.”
“How would you define such a thing — unconditional love?” I asked.
“Loving me just the way I am — zero expectations!” Jack shouted from his recliner.
“There must be a commercial break since you’re now paying attention to the live discussion going on here,” Toni said, cupping her hand on the side of her mouth to direct her voice toward him.
“Just because I’m not responding doesn’t mean I’m not paying attention,” Jack shot back.
“You’ve got me there.” Shifting her eyes back to me, she added in a lowered tone, “His silence never suggested whether or not he was paying attention. Whether he cared about what was being discussed is a different matter entirely.”
“I’d agree with that,” Jack replied.
“Hearing is still good too,” Toni bantered.
Taking another sip of the tea and then listening to see if he’d respond, I stated, “Looks like he’s gone quiet. So, zero expectations?”
“Yes, but to be more specific, this type of love is given when it has nothing to benefit from that other person. It expects nothing in return.”
“It sounds like you’re describing the best of friendships.”
“That’s one way to describe it, but friends are only good to a certain point,” she responded.
Contemplating her assertion, I asked, “I’m not entirely sure what you mean by that.”
“There’s utility in friendship, and there’s certainly some of that in the relationship I’m describing, but in this context, the person is ever-present and is genuinely committed to helping you become the best version of yourself.”
“And such a commitment can be a hardship?”
“It can be — especially in the instance of a personal setback or when hard truths are discovered. Much of this can be unsettling, and this is when true companions show up. They’re there and give the person what they need in these precise moments to help them overcome and continue to grow.”
“That doesn’t describe many people — friends and family included.”
“I know it doesn’t. Life will inevitably show you that there is no shortage of people with you — friends, if you will — when everything is ‘copacetic’ as you would say and you’re relatively in the same place. When you’re at the peaks, you may suddenly find it lonely — for a variety of reasons. And when you’re deep in the valley, you may again only hear the echo of your own voice.”
“The irony, of course, is that’s when you need the most help.”
“Correct — friends, again, are good, great even, but only to a certain point,” she stated with a grin.
“That point being somewhere between the peaks and valleys — the middle ground,” I concluded, rocking my arm back and forth with my palm facing down.
“Most are not built to keep company with you at the extremes. That’s why you generally won’t find many people when the oxygen becomes thin at high altitudes or in all that cold and dark of the hollows. At those heights and depths, unconditional love is required. It’s a costly resource that is seldom given because it places one’s own welfare and comfort in peril. And yet — that’s where all the difference is found and made — in all that hazard.”
***
In his book “The Happiness Hypothesis,” Jonathan Haidt found that “An ideology of extreme personal freedom can be dangerous because it encourages people to leave homes, jobs, cities, and marriage in search of personal and professional fulfillment, thereby breaking the relationships [emphasis added] that were probably their best hope for such fulfillment.” The recluse who is content with solitude and being left alone is the rare exception. Research abounds regarding such findings, so Haidt’s conclusion is not entirely surprising. Every discipline that touches upon the subject shows that relationships and the extent and level of our social network are critical to finding happiness in both the home and workplace.
Time spent with others is time well spent (as a rule) because it buoys one’s spirits and provides a sense of purpose and belonging. Ironic as it may seem, everything we need to actually “make it” boils down most simply to select people around us and our relationships with them. But as Toni intimated, that circle of camaraderie narrows considerably depending on circumstances. The support from those who love us unconditionally has the most profound impact on our lives because they can shift our outlook, almost instantly clearing a choked spring in our thinking. The breadth and depth of such commitment necessitate, among other things, their time, energy, and even some suffering in helping us navigate the worst (and best) of times and everything in between — that is, from the ultra-mundane to the most serious questions we face in our personal and professional lives.
We accomplish more due to the benefit and sacrifice of a partner’s unconditional love because they really know us. They counsel us in our dilemmas as though they were making the decision for themselves. No approach has greater sincerity. And because this particular type of relationship opens the pathways to genuine introspection, it provides an opportunity to recognize and mitigate weaknesses while fortifying and building on strengths. As Nietzsche remarked, “Friends do not unquestionably uphold, reinforce, and echo our attitudes but provide new perspectives and interrogate our presuppositions.” Thus, this is the kind of friend who shares your commitment to excellence, and as Nietzsche noted, emboldens you “to become who you are.” Find the friend who will share their oxygen mask when great heights are achieved, as well as meet you in the desert to bring you water when enduring a fall from grace, and you will have found almost all of what you need to become not just a better court manager but someone far more important.
And those are just some of my musings on management.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Giuseppe M. Fazari has been musing about management concepts and practices throughout his career as an administrator, consultant, and academic. Contact him at fazarigm@icloud.com.
