A short essay with a jazz soundtrack
Soundtrack (YouTube): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z2BuWDhuT2I
I was resting for a moment, the coffee machine refusing to stop, and I stumbled into a song that feels like a human truth dressed in velvet.
Bunny Berigan’s 1937 recording of “I Can’t Get Started” is nostalgic and beautiful—the kind of beauty that doesn’t shout, it stays. The trumpet sounds like memory: warm, tired, honest.
The story behind the song is simple and devastating. A man can do impressive things, travel far, collect achievements, look successful on paper… and still feel stuck at the entrance of what truly matters. He can’t begin. Not where his heart is.
That’s why this song hit me while writing about money, hype, and the modern obsession with quick wins.
Because this is exactly what happens to many people who invest in smoke.
They buy promises. They chase the newest miracle coin, the next sure thing, the next chart that makes them feel powerful. For a while, it can look like they’re flying around the world. They post screenshots. They celebrate. They feel smarter than everyone else.
And then the bubble pops.
What remains is not only financial damage. It’s anger. Shame. A feeling of being cheated. And a quiet question that hurts more than the loss itself: “How do I even start again?”
Starting over is hard because it’s not just numbers. It’s identity. You have to rebuild your confidence, your routines, your trust in yourself. You have to accept that you were human—seduced by noise—and still choose to stand up.
This is where the nostalgia of jazz becomes practical.
Jazz doesn’t deny the sad notes. It turns them into meaning. The music goes on, even when the melody is wounded. And that is the lesson: life continues. And we can begin again—imperfectly, quietly, but for real.
Maybe you were fooled. Maybe you’re angry. Maybe you feel you can’t get started. But you can.
Begin with one honest step: cut the hype, face the facts, protect your peace, and rebuild your life like a craftsman—slow, solid, humble.
That’s what I’m doing in my small digital office: writing with what I read in economic magazines, my own thoughts, and my experience. No big team. No marketing machine. Just the work.
If you like what you’re reading, leave me a tip.
With it, you help my digital office keep running—and you help an independent voice stay independent.
— Joan
