Alexandersmap

    Month: August 2025

    • Pacing our Quest

      You must turn back to the simple things, just as your dream says, to the forest.
      There is the star. You must go in quest of yourself, and you will find yourself again only in the simple and forgotten things.
      Why not go into the forest for a time, literally?
      Sometimes a tree tells you more than can be read in books.
      — Carl Jung

      Up earlier than normal, I read a book of poetry by a well-known author. One singular poem within it, read in a moment of searching, prompted me to buy it. Reading it again, I can’t for the life of me see it the same way. Everything has its time—we are the ones rushing through life.

      Lately, I’ve found myself licking my finger to turn the page well before I reach the end of the one I’m on in my haste to move forward in my reading. It’s a habit born of heavy non-fiction reading, and forcing myself forward to just get through some paragraphs I’d otherwise be lost in trying to understand. That may be okay for textbooks, but surely not appropriate for poetry.

      There’s a lesson here: we must know where we are in our lives and adjust our pace accordingly. Our pace of life isn’t meant to always be frenetic. We can make a case that it should never be. One day perhaps I will return to that book receptive to what that poet had to say. In the meantime, it rests on a shelf with all the others. Books are far more patient than people are.

      Pace is the thing. The right pace will lead us to awareness, holding our hand even as we try to pull away at every new thing crying for our attention. We must learn to slow down and see what we’ve been rushing past. Just as a poem isn’t meant to be quickly scanned on our way to the next, our hours are only ours when we pause this mad dash through our days and set a more gentle pace.

      What are we really trying to find anyway? Meaning? Knowledge? Satisfaction? These aren’t scooped up like power-ups in a video game. It isn’t found on the next page, or the next chapter of our lives, it’s found here and now, waiting for us to slow down enough to notice. We must pace our quest accordingly, if we ever hope to find what we thought was somewhere else.

    • Using Our Full Kit

      “It’s helpful to remember that when you throw away an old playbook, you still get to keep the skills you learned along the way. These hard-earned abilities transcend rules. They’re yours to keep. Imagine what can arise when you overlay an entirely new set of materials and instructions over your accumulated expertise.” — Rick Rubin, The Creative Act: A Way of Being

      We accumulate skills and wisdom as we learn and grow, stumble and pick ourselves back up again. Step-by-step, we learn more and more about the world and how we may survive and thrive in it. This is part of our curriculum vitae—a part of our identity. We are the kind of person who can do this sort of thing. Skills learned in Microsoft Excel aren’t just transferrable from job-to-job, but those spreadsheet skills are applicable in everyday life as well. And we’re just the sort of person who can pull it off.

      Naturally, this applies to creative writing and personal finance and wiring a new light fixture as well. And physical fitness. And raising children. And speaking a language. And most important of all, following through on what we said we’d do. The person we identity as, the person people come to know us as, is an accumulation of skills and wisdom and follow-through that brought us here, now. And now that we’re here, what comes next? Luckily, we’ve got the momentum of all we bring to the table to help propel us into the future version of us we aspire to become.

      Yesterday, I broke free of 75 days of rigid diet and had some pasta, bread and wine to wash it down. I’d like to say that it was worth waiting 75 days for, but it was simply a good meal, enjoyed with family. The point of it wasn’t to celebrate eating processed carbohydrates again, or drinking alcohol for that matter, it was to mark the occasion of having completed something and resetting the mind and body for what comes next. In short, a little of that stuff, but a lot of what brought me here too. Leading up to that meal I’d already worked out twice, drank a gallon of water, read and wrote. Identity had shifted, but not been eliminated by a glass of wine and a bowl of pasta.

      One of the habits I’ve picked up along the way is tracking my sleep score and correlating it with what I consumed or expended prior to going to bed. On average, I sleep very well. But not last night. It seems that my body didn’t celebrate the return of carbs and alcohol in the same way that my mind did in the moment. More research is clearly needed, but it’s a notable development only seen through the lens of awareness developed through discipline.

      The skills learned in doing anything, including abstaining from consuming food one happens to love, are transferrable. Having laid a foundation of fitness, I may either squander that and slip back into bad habits, or use what I’ve learned to grow more fit, more productive, and more selective about what I consume in caloric and information intake. These are life skills I thought I had already, but wasn’t practicing until I jumped into the deep end with an all or nothing regimen. Lessons learned. Wisdom gained. The trick now is to not waste it by not using it going forward.

      Accumulating skills and wisdom are only valuable if we continue to use them on our path to better. We should be consistently asking ourselves, what is the next big thing for us on our climb to personal excellence? What habits need to change? What skills need to be acquired? And what can we use from all that we’ve done to bring us here to help us get there? On to the next, using our full kit of habits, skills, wisdom and street smarts. Our mindset ought to be progressive accumulation and application of all that we’ve learned, towards that place where we’d like to be. For we’ve only just begun.

    • That Ain’t Us

      Yes, there are two paths you can go by, but in the long run
      There’s still time to change the road you’re on
      — Led Zeppelin, Stairway to Heaven

      We forget sometimes that change is dynamic. We make choices, live with the consequences and if we are lucky, get to react to the changes they bring to pivot when appropriate. Or simply double down on the road we’re on now.

      Decide what to be and go be it. If we don’t like being that character, change into someone entirely new. We get to re-write the script again and again in a lifetime, unless we really screw up. Choices, like changes, are incremental. We rarely reach a path of no return. We simply find that returning to who we once were isn’t all that appealing anymore.

      Having reached a place I recently aspired to be at, I have decisions to make once again: Go by the same path I’m currently on or try something new. New is often our best bet. We may take the best of what’s working and build a new path with that skillset and curated stack of good habits. This is how we all learn and grow and evolve towards our potential, by forging a new path with the best we’ve picked up along the way. And those things that don’t fit this new version of us can stay on the path behind us, because that ain’t us anymore.

    • Do Hard Things

      “All great and precious things are lonely.” — John Steinbeck

      Do hard things. This must be our mindset if we are to move forward on our journey to personal excellence (Arete). Opting for easy is a path to average. We’ve all been on that path enough already and know where it leads. It may be comfortable for a long time, but it doesn’t satiate a restless soul. We must learn and grow and become what we decided to be in the time we have while managing the circumstances we’re allotted. There is always a reason not to be bold.

      What is great and precious? We know it when we imagine it for ourselves. Finishing a marathon or writing a novel may be great and precious, but each comes with a heavy price in time and effort (writing anything using an AI hack is not great nor precious, it’s inherently average). We must learn to do the work, and learn to be lonely in the work. It’s the price of greatness that must be paid out every day.

      This summer I’ve had many excuses to just stay the course on my previous fitness lifestyle. Walk a bit, row occasionally, ease off of the carbohydrates and drink in moderation. Those lifestyle choices brought me to where I was back in June when I pivoted into a mental toughness program to blow up the old routine and begin anew. Today is the last day of that program, but not really. Once we strengthen our resolve to do hard things, we begin to look for more hard things to do beyond where we’ve arrived.

      What is lonely about pursing personal excellence? It’s the jabs from friends and family when we say no to what we once said yes to. It’s setting off on a workout or stepping away to write or read or otherwise do the work that must be done instead of having a beer and talking about the state of the world. Early on, when our new habits are young and fragile, it takes an “F you” attitude to overcome the doubts and casual pressure to just make an exception this one time. Mental toughness is developed in the trenches of mind games within our trusted and well-meaning circle of influence.

      The thing is, 75 hard was never a fitness program, even as it leads to greater physical fitness. It’s about eliminating the excuse cycle from our mindset and developing a bias towards action in all audacious and meaningful things. 75 days later, I’m neither great nor precious, but I’m closer to arete than I was before I started. Lifestyle choices don’t really end, they simply evolve in time. We begin to ask ourselves, if we can finish this, just what can we do next? Decide what to be next and go be it.

    • An Expansive Life

      “For all that has been,
      Thank you.

      For all that is to come,
      Yes!”
      — Dag Hammarskjold

      I write this with anticipation for the day. No doubt it may go as it has every year on this day, but then again it may be completely different. We’ll know when we get there. And the feelings that stir within, that combined sense of possibility and unease, are part of the experience.

      We learn to be grateful for the ripe potential the moment offers, as much as we celebrate the successful completion of that moment. Plan a trip, sign up for a race, or schedule any significant event in your life and it triggers an escalating anticipation of what will be. The emotional roller coaster that ensues is as much a part of living an expansive life as checking the box afterwards.

      Tell me, what is life without something to look forward to?

    • The Restless Surge

      Little one, you have been buzzing in the books,
      Flittering in the newspapers and drinking beer with lawyers
      And amid the educated men of the clubs you have been getting an earful of speech from trained tongues.
      Take an earful from me once, go with me on a hike
      Along sand stretches on the great inland sea here
      And while the eastern breeze blows on us and the restless surge
      Of the lake waves on the breakwater breaks with an ever fresh monotone,
      Let us ask ourselves: What is truth? what do you or I know?
      How much do the wisest of the world’s men know about where the massed human procession is going?

      You have heard the mob laughed at?
      I ask you: Is not the mob rough as the mountains are rough?
      And all things human rise from the mob and relapse and rise again as rain to the sea?
      — Carl Sandburg, On the Way

      These days I see more clearly, and I chafe at certain things that used to wash over me. We learn and grow and become someone hopefully better than the character we were before. Each step is revelatory, each step confronts others with the changes within us. That confrontation is sometimes reflected back towards us in subtle ways. Pokes and prods—just to see if the illusion shatters or if there is a new truth to the story of who we are now.

      We rise, relapse and rise again in a lifetime of growth and stumbles, but our story is always set in the present. What has become of us? Where is this going? And just who will join us on our way, and do we dare to wonder—who won’t?

      “I am”… I said
      To no one there
      And no one heard at all
      Not even the chair
      — Neil Diamond, I Am… I Said

      This restless surge of change relentlessly washes away the sandcastles of fragile identity. We are obliged to rebuild them every day, or we are swept away into something entirely different. Made up of the same substance—nothing but grains of sand in our time, yet no longer the same. Only we know the truth of who we are, only we may hear the call. If we dare to listen.

    • Seeing It

      “The world is full of wonderful things you haven’t seen yet. Don’t ever give up on the chance of seeing them.” ― J.K. Rowling

      Here on the home front, the acorns and crickets signal the last days of summer are closing in on us. And once again, we seem to have an abundance of each. Whether we like it or not, the clock is ticking on summer days, and that old back to school feeling is all around us (along with Halloween candy displays—why?!). The Final Countdown is playing in my head, and to be honest, I’ve never liked that song. Someone make it stop!

      When I take stock of what I’ve done this year thus far, I have no right to complain about not traveling more. But end of summer always makes me think about the places I haven’t reached just yet. Once a vagabond, always a vagabond. At least in spirit. We may be grateful for the places we’ve reached in our life while still aspiring for more. A mindset of kaizen (constant, never-ending improvement) includes never being truly satisfied. But there’s still time for a little more exploration and discovery.

      This blog began as a vehicle to write about what I saw in an active regional travel routine. Through deliberate lifestyle design, I’ve gone from 80% travel to 0% in my work. Work travel may satisfy the mind’s desire to see something new each day, but let’s face it, most Hilton hotel rooms are about the same. Travel is not the accumulation of points or the “free” bottles of water, it’s the revelatory experience of stumbling upon wonderful and taking the time to learn something about it.

      The thing is, we can discover wonder anywhere, in any season. We just have to be open and curious and willing to experience what is right in front of us. I can wonder at the explosive production of cucumbers growing in pots on the patio just as easily as I can about some roadside historical sign. Why did it take me so many years to give that a try? Just as the garden is where you grow it, gratitude is where you nurture it.

      This was a season when being home was more essential than ever. The end of life journey of my father, a brief summer reunion with old friends, and the time with our children as they each making significant pivots in their own lives, is time I would never have had if I’d been off checking bucket list destinations off the list. There is a season for everything in life. When we are forever looking for the next, we miss so much of the now. Being here, now, and seeing what is right in front of us all along is the true journey of discovery. Do we see it?

    • Whispering in the Maelstrom

      “There are three classes of people: those who see. Those who see when they are shown. Those who do not see.”
      — Leonardo da Vinci

      Recent visits to modern art museums stretched my perspective on things I previously hadn’t seen. When we’re rushing past a work of art to go see something more accessible, we’re never going to absorb what the artist was trying to tell us. To find our own pace, set for discovery, opens up our senses in ways that we never might have reached otherwise. This level of awareness is transferrable to the rest of our lives, but it requires elbow room to grow.

      We live in a time where anyone can believe anything and get someone to follow along if they shout long enough in the right direction. Personally, I’m tired of the ambient noise. I’ve worked to back away from much of the technology that amplifies the uninformed or self-righteous in favor of deeper waters. We humans think and see and feel best when we aren’t floating in a soup of chaos. Heightened awareness comes from focus.

      I believe I saved my life this summer by focusing on fewer things, just when many things erupted all at once. Maybe not my imminent demise, but by avoiding an irreversible downward trend of declining health, rising stress and perpetual distraction. Most of our physical and mental health problems are based on accumulating and holding on to toxins: trans fats, sodium, alcohol, angry people, social media, stagnation… you get the idea. We must learn to stop collecting all this garbage in our lives if we are to ever reach clarity again.

      The thing is, it’s easy to stay on the carousel. It’s easy to get back on it too. We catch a glimpse of the bright lights and galloping horses, hear the catchy music and we’re drawn in. To walk away from all of that life wants to throw at us is difficult by design, but it’s the only way to finally see what else is out there in the world, wanting our attention—beginning with that inner voice whispering in the maelstrom for us to follow a different path while there’s still time.

    • The Beauty of Enough in the Pursuit of Excellence

      “Never let the quest for more distract you from the beauty of enough.” ― Sahil Bloom

      “If you are going to achieve excellence in big things, you develop the habit in little matters. Excellence is not an exception, it is a prevailing attitude.” — Colin Powell

      How much is enough? For many, there’s never enough. But what about us? How much money do we need? How much time do we trade in exchange? What would we use that time for if not this relentless pursuit of more? These are questions worthy of consideration if we are to live a life of optimization—if we are to reach a place closer to arete, or personal excellence.

      So what is that place? Personal excellence is different for all of us. For me if means reaching a higher level of being. Writing this blog every day is one step on that journey. Reading every day is likewise essential. And so is the admittedly aggressive fitness plan I’ve been on that has resulted in my losing 11% of my previous body weight. The arrival of a leaner version of me isn’t the point, it’s the daily ritual reckoning of choosing to be what I decided to be that brings me closer to my version of arete. We know we’ll never arrive there, but the journey to it is the whole point.

      Personal excellence is not a relentless pursuit of more, it’s a consistent refinement of who we are. It’s not about accumulation of wealth or the fancy car or the private jet. It’s about learning to live a life of significance and purpose. That prevailing attitude of refinement and self-improvement towards someone better in all areas of our lives is what bridges the gap between who we are and who we might become.

      Is there a conflict between the beauty of enough and the pursuit of excellence? Our journey should always be towards the person we wish to become (decide what to be and go be it), and our identity is reinforced by incremental, daily effort in that direction. Making the bed in the morning, or washing the dishes, or doing the workout, or writing the blog post before stepping into a busy life—these are the realization of enough through active presence in our daily rituals on this journey of a lifetime. And that, friends, is beautiful.

    • Kairos and Our Moment of Moments

      Kairos [kahy-rahs, -rohs]
      noun
      a time that is particularly crucial or suited for carrying out an action.

      We modern types with our schedules and time commitments tend to live in chronological order. Chronos, the embodiment of time, is sequential. But we know that some time is far more important in our lives than other times are. These are ripe moments of potential and meaning that stand out from all the rest. And this is where Kairos comes in.

      This is the time is a feeling. We know it when we reach it. And we ignore it at our peril, for such moments are fleeting. Like the muse for artists and writers, kairos isn’t hanging around until we finish watching that cat video. We must seize what flees or watch time—and our moment with it—slip away.

      Carpe diem, friend. Seize the day. And more, learn to recognize the moment of moments when we must launch ourselves into action. We must live in a state of heightened awareness, that we sense where we are on our journey through time, and have the audacity to take action when it’s demanded of us. To do otherwise is simply to kill time. Where is the joy on a trail of dead hours?

      We are conditioned to treat time as an orderly sequence of seconds to minutes to hours to days. We can train ourselves to leap into action at a moments notice. This isn’t spontaneous as much as a bias towards action when called upon in the moment. If not now, then when? Be bold.