Alexandersmap

    Month: February 2024

    • Earning Deserving

      “To get what you want, you have to deserve what you want. The world is not yet a crazy enough place to reward a whole bunch of undeserving people.” ― Charles Munger

      “Success is not to be pursued; it is to be attracted by the person you become.” — Jim Rohn

      We are all trying to reach someplace better than we began. Some of us began in a pretty decent position, some are well behind the 8 ball. It would be irresponsible to not acknowledge that starting position isn’t important in our lives. Head-starts do matter, but we ought to remember that where we start doesn’t guarantee where we finish. Most people in a free society have agency over their lives. Many simply choose to relinquish it.

      We all know examples of people who waste their potential. The mirror is particularly handy when we think of those what-might-have-beens. There’s an old saying about mirrors being much smaller than windshields for a reason: we must look forward not back to get where we want to go. Put another way, if we aren’t moving forward we’re in danger of being dragged backwards by the past.

      But forward is daunting. It’s changing the very things that make us who we are, and becoming someone else. The same is comfortable, while change seems like a lot of work. Crossing that chasm seems impossible at times. This is where that small mirror can help offer perspective. Think of the things that we once thought were impossibilities in our lives that are now core parts of our identity. The future doesn’t look so daunting when viewed from the lens of possibility.

      Sure, excellence is a habit. Who doesn’t want to reach their level of personal excellence? It turns out plenty of people would rather be comfortable than try to leap across chasms. More often than not, I’d rather be comfortable than working out or hiking up a mountain or doing the work that leads to uncommon results in my career. The struggle is real, and the only way forward is to take those incremental steps necessary to move onward and upward. When we keep checking boxes we close gaps between who we were and who we want to become. Deep down, we know that deserving is earned one step at a time. It turns out that all that really matters is what we do next.

    • Words That Will Last

      Now I’m a reader of the night sky
      And a singer of inordinate tunes
      That’s how I float across time, living way past my prime
      Like a long lost baby’s balloon
      So I hang on to the string, work that whole gravity thing
      But when my space ship goes pop, back to the earth I will drop
      Into the sea, or the limbs of a tree
      Or the wings of my love
      And I don’t know what I’m supposed to do
      Maybe invent me a story or two
      I’ve got coastal confessions to make
      How ’bout you, how ’bout you?
      They say that time is like a river
      And stories are the key to the past
      But now I’m stuck in-between here at my typing machine
      Trying to come up with some words that will last
      It’s so easy to see that we live history
      And if I just find the beat, I know I’ll land on my feet
      I always do, hadn’t got a clue
      Does it come from above?
      — Jimmy Buffett, Coastal Confessions

      On those occasions where I debate the merit of Jimmy Buffett to the catalog of great lyricists, I generally point to Coastal Confessions or A Pirate Looks at 40 as examples of a writer tapping into magic. As a person trying to tap into magic now and then myself, I appreciate a great poem disguised as song. We’re all trying to find words that will last a beat longer than the average sound bite, aren’t we?

      Lately I’m caught up in refining my habits and routines, that I might be more efficient and such. This betrays a desire to do work that matters with the urgency of a quarterback who’s seen that this game is all about clock management. We can be the most brilliant player on the field and it won’t matter a lick if we run out of time before we complete the drive. The thing is, even when we do everything perfectly, sometimes the kick goes wide right. The universe has its own say in how things play out. Memento mori, Carpe diem. Amor fati.

      This blog remains a line of breadcrumbs between where I started and where I am today. The path ahead is only hinted at. Breadcrumbs have a way of being swallowed up in time. I’m not naive enough to believe any of these words will last as they are published. In the end, it’s the ripple, not the splash that lingers. A splash is immediate, the ripple may touch people who were never aware there was a splash at all. The thing is, the world is full of people trying to make a bigger splash than everyone else. That leads to a confused sea state, with ripples coming from all directions. Best to set our own course and invite others along for the ride. I’ve set my own course for the coast of somewhere beautiful.

      Speaking of confused sea states, I’ve just lumped a few analogies into one short blog post. What else is new? Some of these themes have repeated over and over again. That’s inevitable with a couple of thousand blog posts, but it’s mostly just me reminding myself to keep going with it. The story is still being written, after all. We can’t control the result but we can manage the clock a bit, and discover that we love the game.

    • A Lifetime Routine

      “The best thing about the future is that it comes one day at a time.” — Abraham Lincoln

      We are forever building our foundation for the future in the action we take today. Surely it arrives, one day closer than yesterday. We arrived at today just the same way, with the skills and habits and temperament built on a lifetime of routine. Routine can have a negative connotation, but it can also be positive. Routine can make us fit and fluent and financially sound, or deliver us to a less desirable state. Routine is everything and nothing at all. A routine is the chosen path we take from here to there.

      Knowing this, we have today to make something better tomorrow. Habits change on a dime, for the better or the worse. What is routine will thus be who we are and who we will be. Sure, every now and then something unexpected changes the game, but for most of us, we are what we repeatedly do and always will be, just older.

      Yet the game can change. And we can always change our own game. We must remember this, and have the agency to take that first step, and the tenacity to keep going from here to tomorrow. It’s fair to ask what our routine is adding up to and change the equation to favor our future outcome. For we are indeed the sum of our days.

    • Yesterday’s Music

      I learn something about myself every time the Grammy’s are on. Mostly I learn that I’m out of touch with popular music. The kind of music I listen to doesn’t make the cut most of the time. You’d be hard pressed to find a lot of Americana or alternative on the live show nowadays. The fact that they sprinkled in a little rock and roll was something to delight in. Modern music is never really for the parents of the audience the music is targeting. How can a kid break away from their parents if they’re listening to the same music?

      The thing is, music is never truly original anymore. It’s all derived from something that came before. Sometimes it’s a riff or bass line borrowed from a classic, sometimes it’s a cover song that shakes up a new audience, like Tracy Chapman’s “Fast Car” as sung by old soul Luke Combs. Some of us were around for the original’s debut. Looking back at the music from that time (1988-1989) is a time warp for me, just as it will be for someone listening to Dua Lipa’s music of today in 35 years will be for them. Music is timeless, even if we aren’t. Cover songs and sampling are clear evidence of this.

      You got a fast car
      Is it fast enough so we can fly away?
      We gotta make a decision
      Leave tonight or live and die this way
      — Tracy Chapman, Fast Car

      When “Fast Car” came out I was still swept up in The Joshua Tree, which had come out a year before, and I didn’t embrace it at the time. The lyrics depressed me then—she sounded trapped and I didn’t want to be trapped. I was looking for anthems to inspire and lift me out of the trap. Yet the sentiment was the same for a restless spirit trying to figure out what the hell to do with himself when adulthood knocked on the door. Chapman and U2 were singing the same message to me, even if I didn’t realize it at the time.

      I have run
      I have crawled
      I have scaled these city walls
      These city walls
      Only to be with you
      But I still haven’t found what I’m looking for
      — U2, I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For

      Fast forward a few decades and I still watch the Grammy’s, if only to reflect on yesterday’s music and to see what all the fuss is about in today’s pop music. The themes are the same, only the faces change. We’re all just trying to figure it out as we move through our time. The trap has always been within, no matter the age. We can leave tonight or live and die this way. What exactly are we looking for anyway?

    • On Discovery

      “Every day we slaughter our finest impulses. That is why we get a heartache when we read those lines written by the hand of a master and recognize them as our own, as the tender shoots which we stifled because we lacked the faith to believe in our own powers, our own criterion of truth and beauty. Every man, when he gets quiet, when he becomes desperately honest with himself, is capable of uttering profound truths. We all derive from the same source. there is no mystery about the origin of things. We are all part of creation, all kings, all poets, all musicians; we have only to open up, only to discover what is already there.” ― Henry Miller

      The fun of travel is to go to unfamiliar places and discover a world wholly different from our own. A place where we may find the similarities or delight in the rituals and traditions that make a place unique. The sin of travel is to go and not meet the place halfway. How many people go to a place and never attempt the local language? How many stick to food they know and never indulge in the local cuisine? Discovery is getting outside of ourselves and meeting the world on its terms, and finding out something new, not just about that place, but about ourselves.

      The thing is, most of us recognize this about travel, but what of art? When we dive into the unknown in our creative work, are we going deeper with it or retreating back to familiar themes? I’ve heard the feedback: this blog dances on the same ground more often than not, and I’m straying further beyond the themes of memento mori, carpe diem, tempus fugit and amor fati to see what I may find within. Now familiarity with these themes are so central to a well-lived, productive life that they inevitably find themselves in the mix again and again, but who wants to be a one-trick pony?

      The routine changes slightly, adapted to circumstance and commitments, but the daily reckoning continues. Open up a blank page and see what comes out to greet the world. We must be creative and chase our impulses, or we cannot truly live the life we were meant to live. The question to ask ourselves is, are we settling for the familiar and comfortable so much that we aren’t challenging our perspective?

      How will today be different than yesterday? Go do the unusual: live and tell about it. There is so much untapped within. We ought to shake that tree and see what falls out.

    • Truth and Stories

      “Truth is the only safe ground to stand on.” ― Elizabeth Cady Stanton

      Truth is not found in the media or popular opinion or in the best of intentions. It’s seen in the boxes checked (or unchecked) day-after-day, cold indicators of what we have done or not done with the promises we make to ourselves. Truth is the scale and the waistline and the recycling bin. We know the truth when we encounter it staring right back at us. Maybe that’s why so many prefer to focus on other people’s stories instead of their own truth.

      Stories are what we tell ourselves about the world and our place in it. Stories scare us into submission or make us feel better about unchecked boxes. Stories are watercolors of hopefulness or fear, the promise of better somedays, and reasons for why we didn’t act then. Stories are lovely things or scary things, and sometimes confused with truth, until truth knocks a story down to size. Some people live their whole lives in a story, never finding the truth. What a sad story indeed.

      Change may be built on the truth or a compelling story. We ought to know what is driving us, that we may arrive at a place better than the one we departed from. What are we tracking in our lives? Properly tracked, metrics tell the story of who we might become, while telling the truth about what we’ve done thus far. We are what we repeatedly do—that’s truth, but we may decide what to be and go be it—that’s a story. Both are necessary for us to reach another place in our lives.

      It’s fair to ask ourselves where we stand, and what we stand for. What do we find acceptable in our lives? What do we settle for? Just where are our stories taking us? When we encounter the truth in these questions, we may change the chapters to come in our lives. For tomorrow is a story to be written, the only truth is today. Which begs another question: what will we do with it?

    • To Live For

      “The mark of the immature man is that he wants to die nobly for a cause, while the mark of the mature man is that he wants to live humbly for one.” ― J.D. Salinger, The Catcher in the Rye

      You may have heard this before here, but time flies (tempus fugit). The more we put behind us, the more we might see just how essential purpose is to our identity. We produce what we might in our lifetimes, we nurture a character that grows through the seasons, systems, habits and trends we put it through, and always, we are that average of the people we associate with the most. To live for others is to carry ourselves in such a way that we make a ripple that rolls outward beyond us.

      A friend was recently trying to lure me to another company with tales of a great culture, fancy resume-friendly titles and high earnings potential. A different version of me would have jumped at the chance to make a big splash. Imagine the splash on LinkedIn when I posted that change? But this version of me sees the folly in that plunge. I’ll take the quiet ripple, thank you. To be present and engaged in this place and time with those who mean the most is everything.

      Purpose seems such a lofty word for the average person. We conjure up heroic images—characters who transcend the routine and lead to us to salvation. The idea of a purpose can be a trap disguised as a compass heading. The trap is in forever looking elsewhere for true north, when it’s usually whispering in our ear all along.

      What’s it all about, Alfie?
      Is it just for the moment we live?
      — Burt Bacharach, Alfie

      The right it transforms us. The wrong it has us running around in circles. Life is short and yes, time flies. We have no time to waste chasing the wrong cause when the essential is right there waiting for us.

      We spend far too much time trying to find a higher purpose and not nearly enough embracing the essential truth we encounter along the way. It’s all about being there for those who mean the most to us in our time. As infuriating as it might feel for those who haven’t yet found it, trust in the process: we know what to live for when we find it. When we give of ourselves to the right people that love is reflected back to us.

    • What Are Words For?

      My lips are moving and the sound’s coming out
      The words are audible but I have my doubts
      That you realize what has been said
      You look at me as if you’re in a daze
      It’s like the feeling at the end of the page
      When you realize you don’t know what you just read
      What are words for
      When no one listens anymore
      What are words for
      When no one listens
      What are words for
      When no one listens
      There’s no use talking at all
      — Missing Persons, Words

      I’m dating myself pulling out a New Wave song from the 80’s, but the lyrics are timeless, and really, more relevant than ever. In this sound bite world, the art of listening seems to be lost. It feels like so many are in such a hurry to speak that they never really listen. Worse, those who shout over others seem to be rewarded for their behavior by the crowd. We don’t live in a professional wrestling script, no matter how much politicians and talking heads want to embrace it. Life is far more nuanced than forever seeking the mic drop moment in everything that comes out of our mouths.

      Who is more powerful, the person who talks all the time or the one who listens to understand what is being said before speaking? The real power broker is the quiet one in the corner pulling the strings, unnoticed for the theatrics up on stage. Who do we aspire to become ourselves? The puppet or the puppeteer? The very best conversations aren’t happening in the populist shouting matches, they’re happening behind the scenes. The ticket to enter that circle is to learn to listen and speak intelligently, with insight and purpose.

      “We have two ears and one mouth so that we can listen twice as much as we speak.”
      — Epictetus

      The thing is, the people reading a blog focused mainly on philosophy, poetry, history and self-improvement have already figured this out. The trick is to influence the people on the edge of our circle that they may be less inclined to join the shouting and begin to listen and see the world for what it is. The world needs a voice in the crowd to rally around now and then, if only to corral the masses towards a common vision. But the real momentum in life is built one quiet conversation at a time. Here we find meaning and understanding and consensus. Here we find a path forward, together. We ought to ensure it doesn’t become a lost art.

    • More Movingly Visible

      “What are the needs and impulses that make a man spend years of preparation, and then months of labor, to produce a work of art? Presumably because he wishes to express himself, his ideas, and his moods; because he longs for distinction and reward; because he has a keener sense of beauty than most of us; because he aspires to combine the partial beauties and veiled meanings of actual but transitory forms in a vision of clearer significance or more lasting loveliness. Usually he sees more than we see, in fuller intensity or detail; he wishes to remove some of these perceived aspects in order to leave the essence and import of the scene more movingly visible to our eyes and souls.” — Will Durant, Fallen Leaves

      Empathy is a conditioned response. We are empathic when we live and struggle, find our way around obstacles or alternatively, find no way around it and find some other way to live, knowing deep down that that other way was closed to us. Those “not for you’s” burn inside as a driving force or a ready excuse for other behavior. If we’re lucky, we find a person who encountered a similar obstacle in their life and made something of themselves anyway. The world is full of examples of people who rose to greatness and also those who spiraled into darkness. Empathy is seeing ourselves somewhere in each.

      The artist learns to see through similar conditioning. Art is a daily struggle to express ourselves in a world that wants us to shut up and fall in line. It takes courage to put oneself out there under such circumstances, but the art takes on a life of its own. The very best artists turn the lens over to us to see what they saw, and maybe something more. Art, like music and prose, is digested and interpreted by the audience. We work through some things, run into our own share of “not for you’s” and produce some time stamp of the person we were at the time. Some work resonates, some falls flat, but the work continues for as long as we choose to dance with the universe.

      Writing, like my amateur photography, helps me to see. Each attempt expands my idea of what’s possible, and I lean into it a bit further with each session. I’ve read books I’d never have read otherwise in my pursuit of more, taken side trips that I might never have considered, and most essentially, turned my gaze outward. We all have an internal dialog happening within us, the artist trains themselves to open that dialog to the universe and expand the conversation. The art is thus a transcript of the moment, a scene made more movingly visible for others to see.

      The thing is, the universe reveals itself to us on its own terms. We learn to be patient, to do the work, to engage and observe. We may be witness and yet not have the wisdom to see the beauty in our moment. Some art is not for us to express. That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t express what we can in our time. Like sketches in a student’s notebook we mark our journey to a higher place.