2011, neh komentar gw : well, krisis inflasi dan harga minyak global SUDAH MENGHAMPIRI PEMULIHAN EKONOMI GLOBAL karena KRISIS SOSPOL LIBYA akibat pergantian kepemimpinan dari Gadhafi sedang terjadi … $100/barel, selamat datang krisis baru
well, seingat gw, 2 kale KRISIS DAHSYAT EKONOMI MENERKAM INDON: krismon (1998) dan krisfinalo (krisis finansial global 2008) …
well, seingat gw, 2 kale investasi gw MALAH TUMBUH KENCENG pada saat seperti itu …
jadi, gw bersikap optimis aja lah 🙂
… per tgl 11 Juli 2015: setidaknya ada 2 krisis RAK$A$A: eurozone n the fed fund rate … well, time2buy as always, see the results when I arrive @ the end of the dark tunnel 🙂
berikut 2 posting soal kata weiji (krisis) menurut ahli bahasa mandarin:
For the academics and pedants among you: a little bit of background theory…
The Chinese word wei-ji – which means “crisis” – is often quoted as being composed of the two words wei (“danger”) and ji (“opportunity”).
However, this is an oversimplification… although wei, on its own, does approximate to “danger, dangerous; endanger, jeopardize; perilous; precipitous, precarious; high; fear, or afraid”, ji used as a single word is polysemous: its meanings can include “machine, mechanical; airplane; suitable occasion; crucial point; pivot; incipient moment; opportune, opportunity; chance; key link; secret; or cunning” – note that “opportunity” is only one of the meanings. The precise meaning is only determined by the preceding morpheme in the compound noun: on this occasion, its pairing with wei shifts its meaning to “crucial point”, rather than “opportunity”. The true meaning, here, is that this is a situation that has reached an extremely difficult and dangerous point (i.e. it is ‘knife-edge’).
The real lesson to be learned, however, is that when such a pivotal point has been reached, the outcome depends largely on how we respond to it. We can turn a dangerous situation into an opportunity. The Chinese word zhuan means “turn into”… if we combine that with ji we get zhuan-ji, which means “turn for the better” – or “turn into opportunity”. In this sense, the Chinese for “crisis”can mean “opportunity” in a time of “danger”, if we choose to make it so! This is the mark of the true business ninja.
How a misunderstanding about Chinese characters has led many astray
There is a widespread public misperception, particularly among the New Age sector, that the Chinese word for “crisis” is composed of elements that signify “danger” and “opportunity.” I first encountered this curious specimen of alleged oriental wisdom about ten years ago at an altitude of 35,000 feet sitting next to an American executive. He was intently studying a bound volume that had adopted this notorious formulation as the basic premise of its method for making increased profits even when the market is falling. At that moment, I didn’t have the heart to disappoint my gullible neighbor who was blissfully imbibing what he assumed were the gems of Far Eastern sagacity enshrined within the pages of his workbook. Now, however, the damage from this kind of pseudo-profundity has reached such gross proportions that I feel obliged, as a responsible Sinologist, to take counteraction.
A whole industry of pundits and therapists has grown up around this one grossly inaccurate statement. A casual search of the Web turns up more than a million references to this spurious proverb. It appears, often complete with Chinese characters, on the covers of books, on advertisements for seminars, on expensive courses for “thinking outside of the box,” and practically everywhere one turns in the world of quick-buck business, pop psychology, and orientalist hocus-pocus. This catchy expression (Crisis = Danger + Opportunity) has rapidly become nearly as ubiquitous as The Tao of Pooh and Sun Zi’s Art of War for the Board / Bed / Bath / Whichever Room.
The explication of the Chinese word for crisis as made up of two components signifying danger and opportunity is due partly to wishful thinking, but mainly to a fundamental misunderstanding about how terms are formed in Mandarin and other Sinitic languages. For example, one of the most popular websites centered on this mistaken notion about the Chinese word for crisis explains: “The top part of the Chinese Ideogram for ‘Crisis’ is the symbol for ‘Danger’: The bottom symbol represents ‘Opportunity’.” Among the most egregious of the radical errors in this statement is the use of the exotic term “Ideogram” to refer to Chinese characters. Linguists and writing theorists avoid “ideogram” as a descriptive referent for hanzi (Mandarin) / kanji (Japanese) / hanja(Korean) because only an exceedingly small proportion of them actually convey ideas directly through their shapes. (For similar reasons, the same caveat holds for another frequently encountered label, pictogram.) It is far better to refer to the hanzi / kanji / hanja as logographs, sinographs, hanograms, tetragraphs (from their square shapes [i.e., as fangkuaizi]), morphosyllabographs, etc., or — since most of those renditions may strike the average reader as unduly arcane or clunky — simply as characters.
The second misconception in this formulation is that the author seems to take the Chinese word for crisis as a single graph, referring to it as “the Chinese Ideogram for ‘crisis’.” Like most Mandarin words, that for “crisis” (wēijī) consists of two syllables that are written with two separate characters, wēi (危) and jī (機/机).
Chinese character wēi
Chinese character jī (in traditional form)
Chinese character wēi
Chinese character jī (in simplified form)
The third, and fatal, misapprehension is the author’s definition of jī as “opportunity.” While it is true that wēijī does indeed mean “crisis” and that the wēi syllable of wēijī does convey the notion of “danger,” the jīsyllable of wēijī most definitely does not signify “opportunity.” Webster’s Ninth New Collegiate Dictionary defines “opportunity” as:
- a favorable juncture of circumstances;
- a good chance for advancement or progress.
While that may be what our Pollyanaish advocates of “crisis” as “danger” plus “opportunity” desire jī to signify, it means something altogether different.
The jī of wēijī, in fact, means something like “incipient moment; crucial point (when something begins or changes).” Thus, a wēijī is indeed a genuine crisis, a dangerous moment, a time when things start to go awry. A wēijī indicates a perilous situation when one should be especially wary. It is not a juncture when one goes looking for advantages and benefits. In a crisis, one wants above all to save one’s skin and neck! Any would-be guru who advocates opportunism in the face of crisis should be run out of town on a rail, for his / her advice will only compound the danger of the crisis.
For those who have staked their hopes and careers on the CRISIS = DANGER + OPPORTUNITY formula and are loath to abandon their fervent belief in jī as signifying “opportunity,” it is essential to list some of the primary meanings of the graph in question. Aside from the notion of “incipient moment” or “crucial point” discussed above, the graph for jī by itself indicates “quick-witted(ness); resourceful(ness)” and “machine; device.” In combination with other graphs, however, jī can acquire hundreds of secondary meanings. It is absolutely crucial to observe that jīpossesses these secondary meanings only in the multisyllabic terms into which it enters. To be specific in the matter under investigation, jī added to huì (“occasion”) creates the Mandarin word for “opportunity” (jīhuì), but by itself jī does not mean “opportunity.”
A wēijī in Chinese is every bit as fearsome as a crisis in English. Ajīhuì in Chinese is just as welcome as an opportunity to most folks in America. To confuse a wēijī with a jīhuì is as foolish as to insist that a crisis is the best time to go looking for benefits.
If one wishes to wax philosophical about the jī of wēijī, one might elaborate upon it as the dynamic of a situation’s unfolding, when many elements are at play. In this sense, jī is neutral. This jī can either turn out for better or for worse, but — when coupled with wēi — the possibility of a highly undesirable outcome (whether in life, disease, finance, or war) is uppermost in the mind of the person who invokes this potent term.
For those who are still mystified by the morphological (i.e., word-building) procedures of Sinitic languages, it might be helpful to provide a parallel case from English. An airplane is a machine that has the capability of flying through the air, but that does not imply that “air” by itself means airplane or that “plane” alone originally signified airplane. (The word “plane” has only come to mean “airplane” when it functions as a shortened form of the latter word.) The first element of the word airplane, like the first element of wēijī, presents no real problems: it is the stuff that makes up our earth’s atmosphere. The second element, however, like the second element of wēijī, is much trickier. There are at least half a dozen different monosyllabic words in English spelled “plane.” While most of these words are derived from a Latin root meaning “flat” or “level,” they each convey quite different meanings. The “plane” of “airplane” is said to be cognate with the word “planet,” which derives from a Greek word that means “wandering.” A planet is a heavenly body that wanders through space, and an airplane is a machine that wanders through the air. As Gertrude Stein might have said, “An airplane is an airplane is an airplane.” Neither “air” nor “plane” means “airplane”; only “airplane” means “airplane” – except when “plane” is being used as an abbreviation for “airplane”! Likewise, neither wēi nor jī means wēijī; only wēijī means wēijī. These are illustrations of the basic principles of word formation that are common to all languages. When etymological components enter into words, they take on the semantic coloring of their new environment and must be considered in that context.
As a matter of fact, the word “airplane” has a contested etymology (I follow Webster’s Third International), with some authorities believing that it derives from “air” + the apparent feminine of French plan (“flat, level”). Even with this latter etymon, however, we must recognize that “airplane” does not mean “a flat surface in the air,” but rather it signifies a heavier than air flying machine. That is to say, when entering into a word consisting of two or more morphemes, the constituent elements take on special meanings depending upon their new, overall environment. In “airplane,” the second element no longer means merely “wander” or “flat” — depending upon which etymology you favor.
Perhaps it would be worthwhile to offer another example from English that is closer to our Chinese word wēijī (“crisis”). Let’s take the –ity component of “opportunity,” “calamity” (“calamity” has a complicated etymology; see the Oxford English Dictionary, Barnhart, etc.), “felicity,” “cordiality,” “hostility,” and so forth. This –ity is a suffix that is used to form abstract nouns expressing state, quality, or condition. The words that it helps to form have a vast range of meanings, some of which are completely contradictory. Similarly the –jī of wēijī by itself does not mean the same thing as wēijī (“crisis”), jīhuì (“opportunity”), and so forth. The signification of jī changes according to the environment in which it occurs.
The construction of wēijī merits further investigation. The nature of this troublesome word will be much better understood if it is pointed out that, in Mandarin morphology, morphemes are divided into “bound” and “free” types. “Bound” morphemes can only occur in combination with other morphemes, whereas “free” morphemes can occur individually.
It just so happens that, in the real world of Mandarin word formation,wei and ji are both bound morphemes. They cannot occur independently. Just as the syllable/morphemes cri- and -sis that go together to make up the English word “crisis” cannot exist independently in an English sentence, so too wēi and jī cannot exist by themselves in a Mandarin sentence. They can only occur when combined with other word-forming elements, hence fēijī (“airplane”), jīhuì (“chance, opportunity”), wēixiǎn(“danger”), wēijī (“crisis”), and so forth.
Now let us look at the morphology of the word “crisis” itself, bearing in mind that it derives from Greek κρίσις (krisis) < κρίνω (krinō) (see the last section of this essay). The English suffix -sis may be analyzed as consisting of -si- + -s, where -si- is a Greek suffix and -s is the nominative singular ending in Greek. The suffix is used to form action or result nouns from verb roots: kri-si-s (“judgement, decision” > “crisis”); the-si-s (“act of putting [down]” > “thesis”); ap-he-si-s (“act of letting go” > “aphesis” –apo [“off, away”]). Greek -si- is cognate with Sanskrit -ti-. Greek -sisendings are nominal and productive (i.e., they can be added to roots to produce new nouns quite readily), and are often used to make abstractions, usually from verbs.
If one wants to find a word containing the element jī that means “opportunity” (i.e., a favorable juncture of circumstances, or a good chance for advancement), one needs to look elsewhere than wēijī, which means precisely “crisis” (viz., a dangerous, critical moment). One might choose, for instance, zhuǎnjī (“turn” + “incipient moment” = “favorable turn; turn for the better”), liángjī (“excellent” + “incipient moment” = “opportunity” [!!]), or hǎo shíjī (“good” + “time” + “incipient moment” = “favorable opportunity”).
Those who purvey the doctrine that the Chinese word for “crisis” is composed of elements meaning “danger” and “opportunity” are engaging in a type of muddled thinking that is a danger to society, for it lulls people into welcoming crises as unstable situations from which they can benefit. Adopting a feel-good attitude toward adversity may not be the most rational, realistic approach to its solution.
Finally, to those who would persist in disseminating the potentially perilous, fundamentally fallacious theory that “crisis” = “danger” + “opportunity,” please don’t blame it on Chinese!
Pertinent observations for those who are more advanced in Chinese language studies.
The word “crisis” enters the English language around 1425 with the meaning of “turning point in a disease,” in a translation of Chauliac’s Grande Chirurgie (Major Surgery). It was borrowed from Latin crisis, which in turn comes from Greek krisis (“a separating, distinguishing, discrimination, decision, judgement”), from krinein (“separate, decide, judge”). Chauliac’s first translation gives it as Old French crise, while the second translation has Latin crisis. The sense of “decisive moment” is first recorded in English in 1627 as a figurative extension of the original medical meaning. In Latin, crisis signified: 1. a (literary) judgement, 2. a critical stage in one’s life; climacteric. Since, in the Hippocratic-Galenic medical literature, “crisis” signified “a turning point in a disease; sudden change for better or worse,” this old Greek usage would be somewhat better positioned to serve as a justification for the “danger + opportunity” meme than does Chinese wēijī, which is, from the very beginning, always something worrisome and unwanted.
The earliest occurrences of the Chinese expression wēijī occur in the 3rd century A.D., at which time, and for centuries thereafter, they convey the notion of “latent danger.” It was not until the late 19th and early 20th centuries that wēijī came to mean “crisis,” as in “financial crisis,” “economic crisis,” and so on. How did this happen? It was almost certainly the result of matching up the old Chinese word wēijī (“latent danger”) with the Western concept of “crisis,” and carried out through the intermediary of Japanese, where it is pronounced kiki. This would make it another of the hundreds of modern Chinese terms that I refer to as “round-trip words” (see Sino-Platonic Papers, 34 [October, 1992]).
Many coinages that made it into twentieth-century báihuà(vernacular Mandarin) are based on traditional uses of words. That is to say, new compounds using jī draw on traditional uses of jī.
There is no traditional use of jī that means “opportunity” per se. Jīhuìis a neologism coined to translate the English word “opportunity.”
To say that jī means “opportunity” is like saying that the zōng ofzōngjiào means “religion” (N.B.: jiào here means “doctrine, teaching”).Zōng traditionally means a line of orthodox transmission, or a clan lineage. It is anachronistic to say that zōng by itself means “religion.” For numerous examples of such calques and neologisms, many (such as those for “economics” and “society”) involving an initial borrowing into Japanese, and then a reborrowing into Chinese with a completely new, Westernized meaning, see Victor H. Mair, “East Asian Round-Trip Words,” Sino-Platonic Papers, 34 (October 1992).
Traditional senses of jī include: mechanism, inner workings (and by extension secrecy), germinal principle, pivotal juncture, crux, or a witty turn of thought.
This is the same jī that was used in the coinage yǒujī (organic), but we can hardly say that jī in and of itself means “organic.”
As examples of recent coinages using jī in innovative ways, we may cite jīzhì, which means “mechanism” or “machine-processed / produced.” There’s also another jīzhì meaning “quick-witted” where the zhì syllable is written with a different character than the zhì syllable of the jīzhìmeaning “mechanism.” The latter jīzhì is based on the same sense of jīwhich is used in the expression dǎ Chánjī — to employ the gnomic, witty language of Chan (Zen) Buddhist teaching stories. If anyone is truly interested in sharpening his or her mind to meet the crises of the future, engagement with this kind of challenging wisdom might be a good place to begin.
If Greece rejected the international “bailout” terms, defaulted on its debts and dropped out of the eurozone, would it really face economic devastation, collapse and disaster?
The International Monetary Fund, the European Central Bank and most economic “news” reports about the crisis say so.
But history says something completely different.
Contrary to what you may have read, lots of countries have been in a similar bind to that faced by the Greeks. And those that chose the so-called nuclear option of devaluation and default did just fine.
Great Britain saw a “V-shaped” economic recovery after it dropped out of the European Exchange Rate Mechanism, the forerunner to the euro, in 1992. Real economic output expanded by 14% over the next five years, IMF records show.
Human beings are adaptable and use some common sense, even without the help of financiers. Gosh. Who knew?
The East Asian “Tiger” economies boomed after dropping their pegs to the U.S. dollar and letting their currencies plunge in 1997-1998. Ditto Russia after it defaulted and devalued in 1998. Ditto Argentina after it defaulted and devalued in 2001-2002.
Those countries saw huge gains in real, inflation-adjusted output per person in the years following the alleged “nuclear” option of devaluation or default. The International Monetary Fund’s own data reveal that from 1998 to 2003, Russia’s output per person soared by more than 40%. So did Argentina’s from 2002 to 2007. So much for “disaster” and “collapse.”
Even the U.S. has been through this. In 1933, in the depths of the Great Depression, U.S. President Franklin Roosevelt outraged bankers by abandoning the gold standard and devaluing the dollar by 70%.
Over the next five years, gross domestic product expanded by around 40% (at constant prices).
If history says financial devaluation or default may turn out just fine on Main Street, the same may even be true of bank closures.
Ireland suffered three massive bank strikes in the 1960s and 1970s, including one that lasted for six months. During that time, people were effectively unable to use banks or get their hands on currency. What happened? The real economy emerged largely unscathed. People coped. They circulated IOUs and endorsed checks as makeshift currencies. They understood that “money” is just an accounting system.
In other words, human beings proved to be adaptable and used some common sense, even without the help of financiers. Gosh. Who knew?
Greek proposals appear closer to creditors’ demands(1:25)
Our grandparents and great-grandparents did something similar here in the U.S. in the early 1930s, at the depths of the Great Depression’s banking crisis, records Loren Gatch, a political-science professor at the University of Central Oklahoma. Towns and even employers that lacked official currency to meet payroll or pay suppliers issued IOUs or notes, he writes. In March 1933, 24 companies in the mill town of New Bedford, Mass., effectively issued their own bank notes, and those were accepted by retailers around the town and circulated at face value, Gatch wrote.
It’s hardly a surprise. Only bankers or fools would think human beings are completely powerless without banks. As for currencies, whether gold or dollars or euros or drachmas: The idea that they have power in themselves is a myth. They are purely a social construct.
Money is merely “a convention…a representative of demand,” and a medium for use in exchanging real things. “[I]t exists not by nature but by law and it is in our power to change it. …”
Who said that? Aristotle. You’d think the Greek prime minister, at least, would have read Aristotle’s “Nicomachean Ethics.”
But, alas, Alexis Tsipras never studied history or philosophy at university. Instead he studied engineering and urban planning. It shows.
Bisnis.com, JAKARTA – Berinvestasi di masa seperti ini? Yang bener saja!” Begitulah, ada orang yang takut sekali berinvestasi, apalagi di masa-masa ekonomi sulit seperti sekarang.
Memang kalau kita bicara soal perilaku investasi, ada dua tipe orang. Ada yang terlalu perhitungan, tetapi ada juga yang terlalu kebablasan. Ujung-ujungnya investasinya justru menyengsarakan hidupnya. Namun, hidup memang perlu berinvestasi. Pada masa apapun. Ilmu pertanian mengajarkan kepada kita, “Kalau kita ingin menuai, maka kitapun harus menabur.”Nah, mari kita bicara soal investasi personal macam apa sajakah yang perlu kita lakukan dalam kehidupan ini.
Banyak orang menyebut situasi saat ini sebagai krisis. Tak heran, banyak tulisan seputar krisis menghiasi koran dan majalah. Hal yang paling wajar adalah menjual atau menahan, tetapi bukan lagi investasi. Makanya, baru-baru ini saya menerima sebuah email, “Perusahaan kami sedangtight money policy, semua training dan pendidikan disetop. Pokoknya jualan, gimanamenghasilkan sebanyak-banyaknya. Ibarat kuda, kami terus dipacu berlari, tetapi enggak dikasih rumput yang bagus!”
Ada nasihat para bijak yang mengatakan, kalau mau sukses luar biasa, justru kita harus mampu melakukan hal yang berbeda dengan orang normal pada umumnya.
Saya pun teringat saat ke Lampung di masa krisis 1998. Saya pernah bertemu dengan seorang dari Swiss. Pekerjaannya aneh. Justru di masa krisis, dia mewakili perusahaannya membeli perusahaan dan dibereskan manajemennya, untuk kemudian dijual lagi. Jadi, kalau belajar prinsipnya, justru tatkala orang lain menahan diri dan tidak mau investasi, mereka melihatnya sebagai peluang penting untuk investasi.
Bagaimana dengan diri kita?
Sebenarnya, terlalu terlambat untuk mengkhawatirkan dan mencemaskan hasil kita sekarang. Justru apa yang kita petik sekarang adalah hasil dari apa yang telah kita investasikan di masa-masa sebelumnya. Ingatlah, what you’re enjoying right now, is equal to what you’ve invested.
SAYA TIDAK PUNYA UANG!
Banyak orang yang bilang begini, “Saya enggak punya uang, jadi enggak dapat investasi”. Namun, apakah benar demikian? Malahan menurut saya, sebenarnya uang, hanyalah salah satu dari hal yang dapat kita investasikan. Paling tidak, kalau saat ini dikatakan situasi krisis di mana rata-rata kondisi bisnis slow down, penjualan menurun, minat beli melemah dan produksi berkurang, justru inilah timing yang tepat untuk ‘menggenjot’ investasi pada diri kita.
Nah, apa sajakah yang sebenarnya dapat kita investasikan? Paling tidak, ada lima hal yang sebenarnya dapat kita investasikan, yakni pikiran, waktu, uang, energi, dan prioritas.
Pikiran, bagaimana kamu menginvestasikan pikiranmu? Waktu, bagaimana kamu menginvestasikan dan menggunakan waktumu? Uang, bagaimana kamu menginvestasikan dan menyimpankan uangmu? Energi, bagaimana kamu menginvestasikan dan mengalokasikan energi terbesarmu? Prioritas, bagaimana kamu memprioritaskan tujuanmu di masa-masa seperti sekarang?
Prinsipnya sederhana. Justru pada saat kebanyakan orang akan berhenti, melemah dan beristirahat, itulah waktu yang tepat untuk melatih dan menginvestasi energi, waktu maupun uang kita. Dengan demikian, tatkala kondisinya membaik, dan kesempatan baik akhirnya tiba, justru kitalah yang paling siap dan mendapatkan paling banyak keuntungan.
Di sinilah berlaku prinsip trade off juga, yakni menukar kesenangan dengan sesuatu yang kita prioritaskan, meski itu sakit rasanya. Dengan menginvestasikan waktu dan energi (dan mungkin keuangan) dari diri kita di masa-masa sekarang, serta menukar segala kesenangan dan istirahat yang dapat kita lakukan, kita menyambut peluang dan kesempatan. Jadi, berpikirnya bukan soal kondisi yang sulit sekarang ini, tetapi masa depan yang cerah, yang akan datang.
Dalam hal ini, kita dapat belajar dari Larry Bird, salah seorang pemain NBA legendaris yang terkenal dengan tembakan tiga angkanya. Tatkala temannya santai dan melepaskan lelah sepulang sekolah, dia memaksa dirinya latihan tembakan minimal 100 kali tembakan, sebelum pulang. Dan, tatkala kesempatan menjemputnya, dia pun mampu menyambutnya. Inilah hasil dari investasi waktu dan tenaga yang telah dilakukannya.
PRINSIP INVESTASI DIRI
Pertama-tama, ingatlah prinsip investasi keuangan yang mengatakan, “Normal return, follow the crowd! Extraordinary return, against the crowd!” Dikatakan, seringkali mereka yang suksesnya luar biasa, justru mereka yang melawan yang umum. Contohnya, jika umum menjual, dia justru membeli.
Begitu pula, tatkala di masa krisis, orang berhenti belajar. Orang beristirahat karena slow down. Inilah waktu untuk lebih giat, juga waktu memacu diri karena umumnya orang akan beristirahat,slow down ataupun berhenti. Bagi kebanyakan, krisis diartikan sebagai in-active atau tidak melakukan apapun. Lakukanlah sebaliknya.
Penting juga dalam hal menginvestasikan sesuatu, kita tahu bedanya antara harga (price ) dengan nilai (value). Ada yang harganya mahal, tapi tidak bernilai. Mungkin makanan tidak sehat (junk food), dapat kita jadikan sebagai contoh.
Namun, ada juga barang atau sesuatu yang tampaknya mahal, tapi nilainya begitu tinggi di masa mendatang. Sebagai contoh, baru-baru ini saya mengikuti training beberapa hari senilai Rp50 juta di Filipina. Kelihatannya mahal. Akan tetapi, kalau dibandingkan dengan nilai yang akan saya peroleh, harga Rp50 juta itu sebenarnya amatlah kecil. Inilah contoh nilai yang melebihi harga.
Nah, begitu pula dalam hal berinvestasi. Kita pun mesti cerdik. Dan selalulah berpikir ke depan. Jangan terpaku dengan kondisi kriris saat ini. Segalanya sudah terlambat untuk sekarang. Lebih baik, pikirkan ke depan. Pikirkan, pada saat segalanya kembali membaik, apakah hal yang dapat kamu invesasikan sekarang yang justru akan menguntungkan dirimu?
*) ANTHONY DIO MARTIN, The Best EQ Trainer Indonesia, motivator, trainer dan direktur HR Excellency. http://www.hrexcellency.com