Alexandersmap

    Month: July 2025

    • Vigorous Pursuits

      “I can be changed by what happens to me. But I refuse to be reduced by it.” ― Maya Angelou

      There is a restlessness within. Perhaps you feel it too. It expresses itself in the usual ways of nervous energy or complaints about things out of my control. The world is changing as we are changing. Those things we cannot control still pester and prod, just looking for a reaction. The world has always been cruel and cavalier, and life has always been unfair. Our reaction to these things is natural, but let it also be productive.

      Sometimes in a storm all someone needs is the steady calmness of an ally who stands with them, and may show the way for those who are lost. We are all lost now and then. Yet we find our way. When so much in our world feels reduced, we may still advance and grow. We must embrace productive utility over helplessness and despair. We must turn away from the madness, carry the sadness, and use our restless energy for vigorous pursuits.

      To be vigorous is to be purposeful with our applied energy and attention. Ah, but what is purposeful? Knowing what our target is and taking action to reach it. What version of ourselves is way out of reach but worthy of the climb? What version of the world do we want to live in? How might we get one step closer to these worthy aspirations today? We mustn’t dare waste these few hours, for our time is short. We only have this day to make a meaningful stride forward, despite all that would get in our way. Don’t settle in the abyss! Get going already.

    • Learn How To Be You

      “Nothing you can do but you can learn how to be you in time.”
      — The Beatles, All You Need Is Love

      Learning to be you is delightful. It’s also occasionally painful. We learn and grow and stretch ourselves beyond what is comfortable and learn from that and the cycle repeats ad infinitum.

      As Aristotle put it, we are what we repeatedly do. Excellence, then, is not an act, but a habit. One workout won’t transform our bodies any more than one book or poem or old Beatles song will transform out mind, but each can be the first step on a journey of transformation.

      Learn how to be you…. in time. It’s the time invested walking the path that is transformative. Sorry—no quick fix. And that’s the whole point. We’re meant to figure it out as we go.

      Consistent action in the direction we wish to move towards matters far more than one bold leap. Sure, the leap is thrilling, but it’s just the bold start. Embrace the grind after the leap, knowing it leads to something more still. Something we build ourselves.

    • Just Like a Bridge

      “Every man is a bridge, spanning the legacy he inherited and the legacy he passes on.” — Terrence Real

      My father is still with us as I write this. His body is fighting his failing mind and currently winning the battle. But we all know the score. He’s not long for this world.

      He was one of sixteen kids. It’s easy to get lost in that number of humans moving from adolescents through puberty and into adulthood living under one roof. Most of them stayed in close proximity to one another, a few moved far away just to have some elbow room where they could learn to fly on their own. They’ve stayed tight, perhaps because they realized just how special their family was, or maybe just because they found they liked each other’s company. They’re an easy bunch to grow fond of. Watching them gradually pass on has been a lesson all its own. And now it’s dad’s turn.

      I was one of four when our parents split up and found their way to other people. Both of them found their (rest-of) life partners immediately after that. Maybe that was luck, or a stubborn commitment to make their next relationship work… or both. I know I’ve learned from both of them and the life partners they chose afterwards. Each of them did the best they could. It’s up to those of us who follow in their footsteps to step off of that bridge and make one of our own.

      We are each the product of the people who raised us blended with the people who surrounded us as we grew up. That person we became inherited some baggage we may carry forever or leave on the curb as we work to change our identity. The trick is to carry the best of us while exchanging our worst traits, habits and beliefs for better ones. We are all works in progress.

      Somehow, in that blend of parental influences combined with a hoard of uncles, aunts and cousins, then blending in new siblings and step-siblings, we must decide who we will be and go be it. So much kin—how do we possibly carve out an identity of our own? Just who will we become when we are wrapped up in so much inherited identity?

      I can see that I developed into a George Bailey-type character (from It’s a Wonderful Life), with a tendency to stick around even as I want to fly. A gift of presence and dependability anchoring the drifters in our lives. Whatever it is, I watch that movie with the same frustrations George Bailey has, and the same realization that what I’m anchoring was worthy of the tradeoff. We know that a good bridge needs to be anchored in something solid on both ends. As with my father in his final days, I’m still holding on, and the story hasn’t ended just yet. It seems that I’m just like a bridge after all.

    • So Is Life

      “As is a tale, so is life: not how long it is, but how good it is, is what matters.” ― Seneca

      The neighbors must think I’m crazy at this point. Walking all the time, sometimes with the pup, but sometimes without. Rain or shine, extreme heat or biting cold. I don’t care if they think I’m crazy. They’ve known me long enough to have formed opinions I can’t possibly sway one way or the other. What matters is the walk, what matters is doing what I said I’d do.

      I tried writing later in the day. I keep returning to the morning, so long as I’m not rushing off to catch a flight or some such thing. When something works extremely well for you, why change it? Surely we must test our theories, beliefs and assumptions, but having done so, we can safely stick with the things that move us in the direction we wish to go in. The writing habit is fully embedded in my identity now. The question now is where to take it next?

      As is a tale, so is life… What kind of creative storytelling are we doing with our lives? We forget sometimes that we are the authors of our days while we’re so busy reacting to the world and our place in it. We must remember our agency. We must remember our lives are an expression of growth and creativity born out of time well spent.

      Seneca also said that life, if well lived, is long enough. But what is well lived? That’s different for each of us, but I think it begins with growing closer to the personal excellence we aspire to. A bit of exercise, a bit of creative work, time with friends and family, and the pursuit of a larger life than the one we started today with seems the path to health, wealth and happiness. Those three pillars may or may not be in the cards for us, but they’re more likely to be a part of our lives if we apply ourselves to constant and never-ending improvement.

      When is enough enough? When do we stop working to grow and begin to simply enjoy what we’ve got? The question itself is a test of philosophy. Would we stop reading books because we finished a great novel? Would we stop writing because we reached some milestone, be it number of blog posts or publishing that book that’s been forever haunting us? The question is flawed, for it infers that we may be more content settling into satisfaction and rest. But isn’t stasis decline when viewed against the progression of life?

      How good a life we have is measured by more than how happy we are, it’s measured by how big a ripple we might leave one day. It’s measured by the love reflected back at us by people we care to move through this one precious life with. It’s measured by how long our health span is, and what we do with that healthy time. We will all be dust one day, but not just yet—so what matters greatly to us this day? We must be earnest in our pursuit of it, for there lies our evasive personal excellence. Look at how far we’ve come. Is this not good? Our tale grows more compelling by the day.

    • Deliverance

      “From heresy, frenzy and jealousy, good Lord deliver me.”
      — Ludovico Ariosto

      Some days are full of frenzy and quick turns of direction and focus. The only thing to do in such chaos is to prioritize the essential and timeless, and fend off the urgent but unimportant as best we can. Easier said than done. But we were made for this by all that brought us here. Overwhelm is simply letting the madness wash over us. We must see the storm and swim to calmer waters as soon as possible or risk drowning.

      Deliverance takes many forms. Sometimes circumstances arise that pull the storm away from us. The pending loss a loved one shakes us loose from focusing on the frenzy long enough to show that deliverance was in a completely different direction than we believed. A conversation with a trusted friend or mentor may shift our perspective just enough to find salvation. Sometimes just walking in the garden can remind us to tend to the more essential in the moment, and let the noise drift away without dragging us along.

      We ought to remember the lessons from moments such as these. What we focus on is not always our deliverance, but the storm itself. When we focus on the wave about to break over our heads we aren’t focusing on the lifeline just in front of us. We tend to realize what we focus on. In our craziest days, we must seek out stillness, even if it’s a deep breath before moving on to the next wave. There may be a calm after this storm too, but we only reach it if we keep our heads about us when we’re deep in the midst of the tempest.

    • A Rich Life

      “We do not remember days, we remember moments. The richness of life lies in memories we have forgotten.” — Cesare Pavese

      I went out for a ride yesterday, cycling the streets in this small town I’ve lived in for so many of my days. It was the first ride of the season for me—admittedly very late to be back at it again, but we get pulled in so many directions, and cycling is only convenient when we’ve got everything ready to roll (including our mind). As with any habit, we make it easy and we’re more likely to do it. We make it hard and it never happens.

      I’m a kid again on a bike, and sometimes I forget to be a kid. A quick ten miles just to blow the rust off a bit and remind myself that I can do this more frequently if I would only put aside the excuses and just go do it. The ride was a rolling reminder of how much I love to ride a bicycle, of how many hills there are in this small town, and a series of flashbacks to who I was at different moments moving through these streets. The days are all a blur, it’s truly the moments that stand out.

      Knowing this, we must aim for the memorable in our days. Moments of clarity, moments of exuberance. What in this routine day will be the thing we will most remember one day when all the rest of it fades away? Break out the highlighter! Dare to be bold, or watch it blur into the obscurity of a life cautiously lived one day at a time. Rise each new morning with insatiable curiosity, wondering, what will we remember of this day? And then being that person that does those things. That’s how to live a rich life. That’s how to make this journey a hell of a ride.

    • Knowing the Score

      Well the sun is surely sinking down
      But the moon is slowly rising
      And this old world must still be spinning ’round
      And I still love you
      So close your eyes
      You can close your eyes, it’s all right
      I don’t know no love songs
      And I can’t sing the blues anymore
      But I can sing this song
      And you can sing this song
      When I’m gone
      — James Taylor, You Can Close Your Eyes

      I’ve been busier and more focused lately. This offers the potential for productive days at the very moment when I’m less inclined to be productive. But I power through because to do otherwise would be to do dishonor to the work. Work is transactional, with both parties doing their part to honor the agreement. Employee at will, as the lawyers say. Today I will work, because life goes on and there’s just so much to do before I’m done.

      Life can end abruptly for any of us, but those who enter hospice do so knowing the score. Or sometimes it’s their loved ones who know the score while they quietly slip away. Perhaps we’ll know what they experience when we get there ourselves one day. One day they’re fully with us, the next they’re not fully there, and one day they’re gone. Yes, we know the score.

      I’ve been saving this song, anticipating my father’s passing one day soon. What a thing to do, holding a song for someone’s passing! But what I mean is it’s been on my mind while he’s been slipping away, and to share the lyrics before he passed seems to rush his passing along. I decided to use it today, because it feels like holding on isn’t fair to him. And maybe not fair to me either.

      So what does being an employee at will have to do with watching my father slip away from us? Maybe nothing more than perspective. Life offers many opportunities to honor agreements that we’ve entered into. We are born into a family, but we stay with them by choice. Dad and I have both been busy with other things the last few years of his awareness. We’ve come back together late in the game, but we’re still in the game. At least for a moment before it’s gone.

    • All Politics Are Local

      It occurred to me while walking just last night that the neighborhood had snuck back up on me again. For a few years there it felt isolated and suspicious, and angry at the state of the world. Or maybe that was always me, reacting to the trend in national politics, the trend towards oligarchs, the trend toward meanness and selfishness and isolationism.

      The world is a complicated mess—surely it is, but our world, the one that we live in every day, need not be. Community is the people who surround us. The people who knew us ten or twenty years ago and still choose to ask how we’re doing now. It occurred to me that the neighborhood is full of people who are just trying to make a go at this one precious life just like I am.

      It took a lot of walks with the pup to lift the fog of perception away. A dog is an invitation to shatter the cone of silence that hovers over people in this strange new world we live in. Polite nods become long conversations, which in turn flip the script from divisiveness to connectedness. And soon it feels like the place we were meant to be at this time in our lives.

      They say all politics are local. We all just want to be heard. We all just want to be accepted for who we are. Well, that requires a reciprocal investment in hearing others out, and accepting them for who they are too. The pendulum swings abruptly one direction to the next and back again over time. And all the while, we still have to live with one another. We might as well enjoy each other’s company.

    • The Produce of Our Season

      “Work while you have the light. You are responsible for the talent that has been entrusted to you.” ― Henri Frédéric Amiel

      I went to a local farm stand to find some fresh produce. The woman at the register asked me how my winter had been. We know each other through produce transactions from mid-summer to early autumn, and little more than that. So winter in this instance meant the time from October to the 4th of July. Every conversation I’ve ever had with this woman has revolved around the variability of the growing season, the way to deal with groundhogs who snack on your tomatoes (with extreme violence, she suggests helpfully), and when they expect to have certain vegetables that aren’t yet available. Transactional, but pleasant conversation—but of course, I’m not a groundhog.

      A farm functions with the seasons. You must do the work to sustain the farm, grinding out the days with productivity. There’s no time to waste on a farm if you have any expectation of making a living from it. A farmer manages urgency and purpose with every waking moment. There is nothing unclear about the days on a farm. Grind it out again and again until the harvest, take a deep breath and start all over again… and again still.

      Would we only have this level of clarity in our own creative work. We know that there is work to be done, for there is still a fire within. Of this there is no question. The question has always been, what will stoke the fire and warm the soul? Do we dabble in uninspiring work, merely to make ends meet? Or do we dive deeply into finding the light within, wrestling demons to bring it to the surface? What are we producing that adds value?

      We are each entrusted with a unique combination of talent and perspective. We must learn to make the most of these gifts in the growing season we have before us. Like the farmer, we must feel the urgency of the day at hand, we must wrestle with our purpose and push through the challenges that each day presents. When we look at the farm stand that is our own work, what have we produced? There lies the truth of our season. There lies the answer for what we must do next.

    • Cats and Dogs

      To have a cat is to have a nocturnal tinkerer who doesn’t care a lick that you’re sleeping. My bride seemingly never hears the tinkering. It seems that pleasure is reserved for me. Just me and the cat… every night. Got something on the shelf? Not for long. Got flowers in a vase? Let’s knock it over and watch the water run. Got a favorite plant? Tastes great! But don’t you dare forget to feed me before you do anything else. A cat purrs in contempt—I’m convinced of it.

      To have a dog is to have a personal greeter who is delighted to see you once again when you walk down the stairs to start your day. A dog is someone to walk with. A personal coach who will get you back out there walking even when you just want to sit down for a little while. A dog is a shared treasure in a house full of hope and love, because a dog helps fill that house with love.

      Now you may read this and get the feeling I have a strong opinion about cats and dogs in this world. And for the most part, you’d be correct. But the thing is, I like a cat just fine when it forgets that it’s a cat and just meets you halfway to cordial now and then. And I’m not a fan of dogs that believe they should have been cats, behaving like spoiled children running amuck. It’s attitude that counts with me, not what you were born as.

      And this naturally goes for people as well. The arrogant and entitled are not welcome in my life. The generous and kind have an open door whenever they wish to return to our home. We learn to read people over time, seeing the wolf in sheep’s clothing for who they are, learning to forgive the occasional mistake from those who meant well but stumbled nonetheless. It’s not who you were born as, it’s who you decide to be that matters most. Be kind and generous. And for god’s sake, stop tinkering in the night when I’m trying to sleep.