Translator: Chryssa R. Takahashi Reviewer: Maria Pericleous
Health.
Love.
Recognition of your work.
Some people call it the three parts of happiness.
I don't know, let's see.
I'm in my car
and next to me in the passenger seat is my friend Manina;
we are going down Kallidromiou street in Exarchia,
and in front of us is a stationary vehicle, another car.
The driver has turned on the hazard lights,
and I stop right behind him,
and I wait for him to start so we can continue our journey.
We chat, 10, 20, 30 seconds; one minute goes by.
Suddenly my friend Manina turns to me
and says, "What are you doing? Aren't you going to honk? Won't you do something?"
I don't say anything.
I see that the driver is in his seat - he's OK, nothing has happened to him.
He has the hazard lights on,
and I turn to her, still not saying anything,
and I simply think, "How weird."
It seems that the usual thing
would be to honk.
Honk for what reason?
To achieve what? Would the other person go faster?
I can see the man's doing something, and he has the hazard lights on.
When he's ready, he will move on, and we will move on as well.
I don't see a reason to ruin my day first thing in the morning by honking.
What do I mean?
I mean that in general, I am a calm person.
I try at least, most of the time.
Three a.m.,
I'm lying in bed.
I open my eyes and look at the ceiling.
I can't sleep.
And I'm trying to figure out what is wrong.
Besides the mattress that I promised to change,
something else is wrong.
Something else is troubling me.
I can't relax, and I'm trying to figure out why I can't relax.
The three things I mentioned in the beginning,
I think I more or less have them.
I'm healthy,
I give love, I receive a lot of love,
my work is being recognized at some level.
So what is wrong?
Where is the happiness? What is missing?
This is something that troubles me very often,
and I can't relax.
So I'm trying to think, trying to remember
when I was truly relaxed.
2017.
Last day of shooting of the first Master Chef.
We hear Polyvia, the assistant director, say that it's a wrap,
which means that it's finished.
And at that moment I realise
that from tomorrow,
this won't be in my daily life any more.
They were five intense and full months,
my first TV challenge.
At the same time, the restaurant had to be run properly.
And then what?
What comes after that? What do I have to do?
Did I make it too soon, too fast?
Blank.
Moment of peace for me.
2016.
My daughter is born.
My first child.
And it is that moment
when worrying about health
reaches a new level.
Till then, I use the expressions "Be healthy," "Be well"
in relation to myself, my own health,
to live longer, to travel, to feel, to taste, to be happy, to be sad.
But at that moment,
the word health takes on another meaning.
I want to be healthy
to take care of my child from now on
till she can stand on her own two feet
and open her wings.
(Sound of crying baby)
(Laughter)
2015.
I return from my culinary trip,
Copenhagen, London, back to Athens,
and I board this last ...
one-way flight London-Athens,
having achieved what I wanted,
having fulfilled my desire
of cooking and working in kitchens abroad,
in specific kitchens abroad and in London,
and it's that moment
that I board that flight,
and I know that I have left everything behind me,
and I return to Greece
unaware of what awaits me.
If only I knew that Greece was in the throes of a referendum
and a very bad economy to boot.
2014, August.
I am working at a restaurant in Kifisia.
The line was empty, I clean the kitchen,
I do the orders as we do every night,
and the next day is the start of my summer vacation.
So I say to my chef and mentor,
Christoforos Peskias,
I tell him, "Chef, I'm leaving. See you in two weeks."
He says, "Hey listen,
I think it's time for you to think what you want to do next.
Because you have taken all there was, and you gave all you had here."
So one day before my vacation started,
I was informed that I had to look for a job when I returned.
I was going to be unemployed.
That summer, I had the best holiday of my life,
in Astypalaia.
2008.
I've been working at the bank for just over a year.
I've signed two fixed term contracts,
so my manager at the Menidi branch,
he approaches me happily one day, gives me a pack of papers,
and says, "Congratulations Sotiris, welcome to the family.
You can sign a contract of indefinite duration,
and you are now with us."
I freeze, and my whole future life passes in front of my eyes.
So I ask him, "How much annual leave do I have left?"
He's surprised, he says, "Why do you ask that?
I'll let you know in an hour," he says.
He comes back, he tells me, I say, "Good, I'll take it,
and I'll come back and sign."
I come back and I sign my resignation
without even knowing what to do next.
2005.
After five years, I graduate from Panteion University.
It's that moment
when you run to the bulletin boards with the grade announcements
behind the dusty plexiglass,
to see if you got the desired pass grade in that extremely hard subject
that people only pass in five years.
So that you can say that you passed or see the fail grade and say he failed me.
This is the moment that I see the very last grade
for the last pending subject,
and I've passed, I got my degree.
Again, the absolute void ahead, after you graduate.
2000.
I remember it's the last day of the Greek university entrance exams.
I was in the first batch with study directions then,
that was the new system.
From what I gather, we have a new system every year.
So I am in the first batch with study directions,
I think we were examined in 14-16 subjects,
religion, literature, history of art.
And this is the last subject.
I remember the moment when you look at the paper
and check that you have entered your details correctly,
your registration ID.
You check that you haven't forgotten anything,
that you are not off-topic.
You close the paper, you get up, you drag the chair on the mosaic floor,
and you go to the supervisor to hand over your last paper.
This means the end of your school years.
And in front of you, again, the void,
you simply wait to hear the base grades
to see if you can go to the school you want.
All the stuff that grown ups tell you about all those years.
For obvious reasons
the next story is not in chronological order.
I've had big, important, long-term relationships,
where we both know that it's over,
but we're both still there out of habit -
habit is very bad in our lives;
I think it's the biggest enemy of evolution.
Or, for an unexplained reason,
beyond any logic,
I need for this relationship to finish,
but I can't find the courage to say the words.
I repeat, any resemblance with actual people or situations
is purely coincidental.
(Laughter)
And this is the moment
that I find the courage, the nerve to say it
while I know that from that moment on,
the next day that is,
my daily life will have changed tremendously.
Now that I see it from a distance, as an outsider,
it seems very light and funny,
but at the time it was my whole life.
The common point
of all these stories,
all these moments,
is that I started to remember because I wanted to remember
when I was truly peaceful.
First of all, it's all about moments.
These are the moments
of my peace, my stillness.
That quietness, the stillness when you hear nothing.
When time stands still.
Those are the moments that hide effort, sacrifice, sweat, fatigue,
and in front of them is the void,
the unknown, the uncertainty.
For me, the challenge.
So in those moments,
I find peace.
I find peace and I balance.
The fact that these are moments, they are points, dots,
means that balance for me
is not something static.
I didn't find my balance, and that was it, I was relaxed.
It's something dynamic.
My needs change every time.
The same way the balance point changes,
which I am called upon to find again and again,
to redefine it.
So I need more moments like that -
moments of uncertainty, challenging moments
that simply lead me to evolve.
So in order to sleep, I have to be peaceful.
I find peace when I'm happy.
I'm happy when I balance.
I balance when I continuously evolve.
(Music) (Applause)