Your Greatest Moment
A "Tiny Novels about Yourself"-writing prompt
"Self-esteem" is defined as your subjective evaluation of yourself, your qualities and abilities. It can be negative or positive. We all have a kind of basic self-esteem—a general tendency to think positively or negatively about ourselves.
"Self-confidence" is different—it's the trust you have in yourself being able handle anything that comes your way.
"Positive self-esteem" can be described as “confidence” at times," or “pride,” or even “lust for life," but it always refers to the conviction that you are particularly valuable just for being yourself.
But we have our ups and downs – and if you’ve lived long enough, there’s most likely a time in your life when your "positive self-esteem" was at its strongest. It could be back when you were young and naive, or yesterday; it could be a period of your life or a brief moment.
Your mission:
Write a brief story or anecdote about a time or event when your self-esteem was at its highest:
– What happened?
– How did you feel?
– Were there any special circumstances or conditions?
– Did you feel differently?
And:
– What would it take to reach such a time in your life again, even if only briefly?
Have fun! And post your stories in the comments – if you do, I will pick one and highlight it (on this Substack page) as “Tiny Novel of the Week.”
As a German Biologist
In the summer of 1982, at the Université Louis Pasteur in Strasbourg, France, I stood before five Professors of the Faculty of Medicine to defend my PhD in Molecular Genetics and Biochemistry—in French. A German with fractured language skills, I felt like a climber stranded in Mount Everest’s death zone, oxygen-depleted and 100 meters from the summit. Every second of my presentation was a mental tightrope walk, double-checking French vocabulary and grammar. For a foreigner, it was a linguistic nightmare.
I recall a dissociative haze, as if my body were piloted by some external force while my mind hovered in a near-death state. When the audience applauded, I couldn’t fathom how I’d survived. Their kindness—likely laced with pity for a struggling German in a French institution—felt like a surrender to fate. Had I truly earned this doctorate, or was it a mercy grant?
The paradox? This ordeal became the pinnacle of my career, a solitary Everest ascent without ropes or oxygen. Surviving that academic death zone imbued me with a Buddhist-like humility. I never boast of achievements, knowing firsthand how fragile success can be. It’s a daily reminder that we possess untapped reservoirs of strength, capable of summoning 1000% of our capacity when survival demands it.
There’s no pride in this victory—only gratitude. Like a shaman sensing unseen guides, I felt “spirit helpers” steering me through the storm. Left to my own devices, I’d never have begun such a perilous journey. The labs in Strasbourg were pressure-cookers, akin to coal mines where camaraderie becomes life support. Colleagues became my oxygen, their presence as vital as the air at high altitude.
I could never replicate this trial. It was a once-in-a-lifetime crucible.
To whatever gods may listen:
Thank you for this baptism by fire.
For an unquenchable soul.
Thank you.
As a German Biologist,
I ponder the lives of hunter‑gatherers—
nomads who skillfully read the land
as they moved from place to place.
Their journey was a tapestry of stories,
passed down by wise elders
and doting grandparents to eager children.
These tales—
echoes of Aboriginal Dreamtime—
taught them how to prepare for the hunt,
fashion tools,
and condition their bodies for the pursuit.
When the hunters returned
bearing the fruits of their labor,
the entire tribe gathered for a communal feast,
a sacred ceremony of gratitude to the spirits of nature
who granted them life and sustenance.
From the first spark of intention through the chase,
the shared meal, and the restorative rest,
each step formed an unbroken cycle—
one that would guide the next generation’s forays into the wild.
In honoring this rhythm,
they wove themselves seamlessly into the flow of nature,
ensuring the fragile web of life endured for those yet to come.
As we race into a synthetic Techno Sphere
and enslave ourselves as Robots on the Techno Farm
To keep the Farm running
with our own private precious Resources getting fast depleted
I wonder:
Were the Hunter Gatherers in more privileged Life
than we assume to be
And could the Peak Moment of Life
be rather in a natural state of tuning into Nature
and immerse into the Cosmic Web
Rather than drown in the Inter Net…
The Net to catch Human Prey to devour...