Alexandersmap

    Month: August 2021

    • What We Create, What We Leave Unfinished

      We create ourselves by our choices. – Søren Kierkegaard

      In my house there are a hundred half-done poems.
      Each of us leaves an unfinished life.
      – Mary Oliver, Thinking of Swirler

      It’s an oddity in my character, admittedly, that I linger with poetry and well up with emotion over words. After a particularly stunning pink swirling sky at sunrise I could think of nothing better to do with my morning coffee than pair it with Mary Oliver. Life is a series of choices, one quietly laid upon the other, carrying us to eternity. I’ll regret many, but not this one.

      What will we create in our time here? What will we leave unfinished? These are the questions of a lifetime, and the questions of each day.

      I’ve mentally cast aside this blog dozens of times, but each morning I wake up and write anyway. It isn’t the writing that challenges and mocks me, it’s measuring up to the words. Knowing what’s unfinished, knowing the choices that make up a lifetime. Waking up with a chance to measure up once again.

    • Reaching Beyond the Immediacy of Our Experience

      “Men honor what lies within the sphere of their knowledge, but do not realize how dependent they are on what lies beyond it.” – Zhuang Zhou

      “The whole problem with the world is that fools and fanatics are so certain of themselves and wiser people are so full of doubts.” – Bertrand Russell

      Robert Greene, in his great book Mastery, describes the challenge a missionary had with understanding the language of a remote tribe in the Amazon. The key for the missionary to unlock the code of their language was when he realized that everything they did was based on immediacy of experience, for what was not before the tribe’s eyes did not exist.

      You don’t have to dive too deeply into social media to recognize that this trait is deeply embedded in the larger world today. So many believe at face value what they’re familiar with, and ignore the prospect that what they’ve learned might not be true. Worse, they parrot what they believe to be true, reinforcing their immediacy of experience instead of transcending it.

      Part of the problem is that people become comfortable being comfortable. Sticking with the same social circle that believes a certain thing, not challenging family or a leadership figure in your life that spouts a certain viewpoint to the exclusion of all others, and most of all, not challenging ourselves. For questioning our very beliefs can becomes very uncomfortable indeed.

      “People who do not practice and learn new skills never gain a proper sense of proportion or self-criticism.” – Robert Greene, Mastery

      To reach wisdom is to grow beyond the immediacy of our experience. This seems self-evident, doesn’t it? Growth infers expansion. To go beyond our present limitations. It’s not comfortable, but growth is never comfortable. And we must persist through discomfort to transcend it.

      “The reasonable man adapts himself to the world: the unreasonable one persists in trying to adapt the world to himself. Therefore all progress depends on the unreasonable man.” – George Bernard Shaw, Man and Superman

      The path to progress, mastery, wisdom, excellence… whatever you choose, necessitates placing yourself into the uncomfortable. This may feel at times like being overwhelmed, or being called out by others, or dealing with imposter syndrome, or a combination of all of these things. We’ve got to wade through all of this to reach beyond our limits. Where, deep down, we know that we ought to be.

    • A Hike to Waterville Cascades

      This hike was meant to be a compromise to myself. No salt water weekend, no longer hikes to knock off another 4000 footer or three. But still spectacular, still a light workout on a beautiful trail, and the real payoff; seven waterfalls in a relatively short span.

      I had my doubts. You walk to the trailhead at Waterville Valley Resort and see right away that this hike is going to start between the road and some of the village condos. But you cross a road and leave most of that behind you. From then on you are hiking a pleasant trail to the first waterfall and not really seeing many people (for me, a Saturday afternoon).

      The Cascade Trail is a 3 mile round trip to the Waterville Cascades. The silence of the forest is notable and welcome. You quickly forget that you’re in close proximity to a ski resort, and instead immerse yourself in hiking relatively pristine second growth forest that wraps itself around you and shuts out the outside world. Before you know it the hike brings you to the first cascade on Cascade Brook, a series of seven plunges that feel bigger and more remote than they really are.

      But there are reminders of the alternative paths to the falls. We met a group we’d seen in the parking lot that opted to ride the chairlift up instead of hiking. We spoke to another couple of guys on mountain bikes who had ridden up to the falls to soak in the swimming holes. Both conversations reminded us that there were other faster ways to reach the cascades than hiking. We saw sad proof of this when we passed a pyramid of empty Bud Lite cans that some fools had stacked alongside the brook. Without a backpack for this short hike I had to leave this mess for someone else to deal with. Not everyone who ventures into the woods leaves them as they found them. This is the price of proximity.

      But the falls themselves were each wonders, and we celebrated the unique beauty of each as we climbed higher and higher up the trail. When you reach the last big cascade there’s a bridge for a mountain bike trail that you can cross to descend the other side and return you to the Cascade Trail and your hike back down.

      I’m interested in how people meet the falls. Some are reverent and respectful, some more nonchalant about the experience. I think it’s relative to how much work you put in towards reaching them, and the path you chose for yourself. But that may seem dismissive and smug when a hiker says it. More specifically, it’s not the work you put into reaching it, it’s how your attitude when you reach it that matters most.

      The work-to-reward ratio of the Waterville Cascades makes it an easy choice. The proximity of that resort comes in handy for lunch or dinner and a restroom afterwards. The entire experience reminds you that finding beautiful in this world isn’t all that hard if you just put yourself out there to meet it.

    • Accepting Whatever

      “Flow with whatever is happening and let your mind be free. Stay centered by accepting whatever you are doing. This is the ultimate.” – Zhuang Zhou

      Being present in the moment requires a level of surrender that my mind doesn’t easily achieve. So I trick it with the odd mundane task like picking cherry tomatoes or deadheading the geraniums or some such thing. It’s in moments like these that I finally reach the ultimate. It won’t last, but my mind and heart sync for a few beats.

      Now is more easily achieved when hiking through a quiet forest or paddling across still water. In these situations the vastness of the universe shrinks down to the immediacy of the next step or the next dip of the paddle as drops of water sprinkle down on you from the opposite, raised blade. Your restless mind has no say in the matter in such moments. It’s just you and whatever you are doing.

      I should think that I might never reach some of the things my mind wrestles with. I should think I’ll pass one day having left too much on the table. I may curse the folly of an unfocused mind in that last moment, or celebrate the stillness that awaits me. You aren’t free until you realize that that moment is now.

    • The Thing We Ought to Be

      “The ideal life, the life of completion, haunts us all; we feel the thing we ought to be beating beneath the thing we are. We are haunted by an ideal life, and it is because we have within us the beginning and the possibility of it” – Phillips Brooks

      It sneaks up on you now and then, this feeling. It’s a nagging call for action, Thoreau described it as quiet desperation, a feeling that you’re living below your dreams and see no path to reach them. But he would also remind us that it’s okay to build these castles in the air, just build the foundations underneath them.

      What do we make of ourselves when we know what we ought to be?

      How we reconcile this in our own lives is how we determine for ourselves whether we lived a successful life on our deathbed. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. When you pause in a quiet moment in the day and reflect on where you are and where you’re going, do you like the answer?

      The haunting is a call to action.

    • Patterns of Action

      “There are cues and subtle aspects you can only pick up through a person-to-person interaction—such as a way of doing things that has evolved through much experience. These patterns of action are hard to put into words, and can only be absorbed through much personal exposure.” – Robert Greene, Mastery

      If we were to agree that activity is a key performance indicator, then you might learn a lot about someone’s direction from their level of activity. But as anyone who’s worked in an office for any amount of time knows, you can easily skew the numbers with busywork. We all know people who are masters of the metrics game. But in the end all that matters is results.

      Key Performance Indicators (KPI’s) are the metrics identified as important indicators towards the progression and eventual completion of an objective. If that sounds pretty dry, well, welcome to the world of corporate metrics. Put another way, it’s reading the tea leaves to see what the patterns are. Patterns of action indicate our direction because they’ve indicated the direction others have taken before us. What works for you should work for me, the thought process goes. Of course, everyone and every situation is different. The art of leadership (or self-leadership) is in seeing what to focus on.

      When you want to change something about yourself, what do you do first? We can stay very busy messing about with planning and preparation. There are people who build entire careers around each. I have a workout plan that will have me winning the next Olympics in rowing, should I ever follow through on it. I won’t follow through on it.

      And that’s the key point. Life is about execution and following through on what you say you’re going to do. There are clear patterns of action that get you there, one step at a time, if you’ll choose to take them. Measuring activity isn’t the point, the point is to manage patterns of productive activity that are generally agreed upon to take us from where we are to where we want to be and turn them into results. Take action, note the results, and take action again. Repeat.

      That feeling of “stuck” we get when we aren’t seeing progress is an indicator that we’re mired in busywork but not meaningful patterns of action. We must either pivot to other goals or face the truth that we aren’t working on the things that really matter. Our patterns of action are all wrong. See the truth for what it is, and then do something about it.

    • The Barista, the Barber & the Waitress

      My well was running dry. Mentally I was beating myself up over tasks and shattered illusions. Some days go exceptionally well, some days nothing goes well. The former are days when you double down and ride the wave. The latter, sometimes, require a reboot.

      There are two ways to reboot. One is through exercise and activity that draws you out of your own head long enough to see that the world is what it is and you’ve done your part. Walking often does the trick for me. The other way is through interaction with others. Call friends and family to catch up, or better yet, meet with them somewhere. Some days you just need your core group of professional relationships to pull you through.

      I began the morning with a latte. I’ve gotten out of the habit of stopping for a coffee and instead make it at home. As a result I’ve missed out on banter with my favorite barista. She asks me where I’m traveling to this time, used to my answers of faraway places. When there’s no line behind me we talk of gardening and what our kids are doing. For all the turnover in restaurants, she’s been a barista here for years, and I go out of my way for these brief conversations. The jolt of espresso secondary to the banter.

      Later in the day, I stopped for lunch at a local Chinese restaurant. Another place I’ve gone to for years, but haven’t gone to in months. The staff there commutes from Boston up to Southern New Hampshire every day, works their shift and returns home late in the night. Six days a week for years on end. The waitress knows my name, and I know hers. Not just the “American” name she introduces herself by, but her real name, which apparently is too complicated for some folks to bother with. She already knows what I’m having, just like the barista did, but confirms before placing the order with the kitchen.

      Due for a haircut, I went to the local barber on a quiet part of their day. He smiled and sat me right down, and we talked of football and the return of mask mandates. He confided that he doesn’t know if they’ll make it if there’s another shutdown, and I responded that it was unlikely this time. Enough of us are vaccinated, right? … right.

      Three people that I have a professional relationship with, each offers just enough of themselves to make my day and reset my outlook for the rest of it. Each deeply impacted by the pandemic, each vaccinated (all Pfizer, like me) and cautiously optimistic about the future. If I ever hit the lottery I’d walk in and give each of them a million dollars, because that’s what they make their customers feel like. Since I haven’t won the lottery, I pay them a million each in installments, one tip at a time. Knowing that it’s not enough for the boost they’ve given me.

    • Unattempted Adventures

      “When the first light dawned on the earth, and the birds awoke, and the brave river was heard rippling confidently seaward, and the nimble early rising wind rustled the oak leaves about our tent, all men, having reinforced their bodies and their souls with sleep, and cast aside doubt and fear, were invited to unattempted adventures.” – Henry David Thoreau, A Week on the Concord and Merrimack Rivers

      There’s finally, blessedly, a plan. Places to be, filled with uncertainty and doubt, in the very near future. With one eye on the variants and another on the weather, reservations and bookings complete. There’s new hope for a return to attempting the previously dreamed of. New adventure awaits.

      The moment Thoreau wrote of above took place when he was a young man, before his brother passed away from tetanus, before he wrote Walden or Civil Disobedience. Just a couple of young adventurers waking up along the Merrimack River in Tyngsborough, Massachusetts ready to take on their previously unattempted. It captures that moment of waking up excited and recharged and bursting to get out there and do what you’ve been scheming to do. It’s a more comma-intensive version of my favorite Thoreau quote of all:

      “Rise free from care before the dawn and seek adventures.”

      It should be no surprise to readers of this blog that I’m scheming again. Ready and willing to burst from this big empty nest of a tent and get out in the world again. Big adventures planned for September and October. Micro adventures to fill the gaps, beginning immediately. Room for a pivot here and there, to be sure, but if you don’t plan it and take the leap you’ll just put it off for another day that may never come.

      When you woke up this morning and took stock of the world around you, did it give you a bit of a thrill? If you aren’t buzzing with anticipation, what are you waiting for? Cast aside your doubt and fear and get to it already. Tackle those unattempted adventures.

    • When We Walk

      “When we walk like (we are rushing), we print anxiety and sorrow on the earth. We have to walk in a way that we only print peace and serenity on the earth… Be aware of the contact between your feet and the earth. Walk as if you are kissing the earth with your feet.” – Thich Nhat Hanh

      “When we walk, we naturally go to the fields and woods: what would become of us, if we walked only in a garden or a mall?” – Henry David Thoreau, Walking

      I’ve been walking on pavement too often recently. The mileage is good but the spirit is muted. Your feet have a hard time connecting you to the earth when there’s three inches of asphalt separating you from it. Still, walking on asphalt is better than being indoors all day, and to be honest, I’ve experienced too much of that lately.

      One recent walk took me along the Cape Cod Canal for six miles. Visually it was striking with a parade of yachts and commercial vessels streaming past on a particularly busy day. And the company was certainly good. But that connection to the earth was missing on those paved bike paths.

      Maybe walks on pavement are better than nothing, but like Henry I wonder what becomes of us when we aren’t off in the fields and woods. The more we connect our feet to the earth and cover ground the more we hear our own voice. Walking flushes the toxins out of your body and soul. Sitting all the time, as we do these days with our desk jobs and a return to commuting robs us of that flushing and the ick pools up inside of us until we once again get up and out.

      Today is a good day for a walk.

    • Table of One

      “We are here to awaken from our illusion of separateness.” – Thich Nhat Hanh

      I went to a restaurant last week for dinner. We sat under a covered patio on a beautiful night, hard surfaces all around and a low buzz of conversation reverberating from table to table throughout the space. Halfway through dinner a group sat at a table nearby and began loud talking to each other, and I listened as the rest of the tables reacted. We all want to be heard, and the natural inclination is to raise your own voice. The restaurant transformed right before my ears to a dull roar.

      We live with technological amplifiers that drive our differences home, stir the pot and separate people into us and them. The world is full of voices seeking to be heard, and people will amplify differences for attention and profit. Just like that restaurant, we find ourselves in a place where the only way to get attention is to shout. But when everyone is doing the same thing you reach a point of diminishing returns.

      The thing is, that group that sat down looked like a fun bunch of people. So did the people at the other tables. I might be slightly biased, but so are we. But we were all placed in a position where we were competing to be heard against the other tables around us. Each expressing themselves to an audience that was finding it hard to follow along.

      The world has never felt more separated. Yet each of us are connected and largely the same. With similar hopes and dreams and a basic need to be heard and understood. Our separateness is an illusion. We were all on the same patio, in the same restaurant, no matter which table we sat around.