Alexandersmap

    Month: April 2026

    • The Ideal Life

      “Good friends, good books and a sleepy conscience: this is the ideal life.” — Mark Twain

      Lately, I’ve spent a lot of quality time with some good books. I’ve had less of that quality time with good friends, but we make it count when we reconnect. Life is what we make of it, and maintaining connection is a large part of a great life.

      Friends amplify experience. Going out and experiencing life solo has it’s perks, but try multiplying what we experience by one and see what it equals. Those friends also help us live longer, more vibrant lives. If increasing one’s health span is the ultimate goal, relationships with others is clearly the path to be on.

      Have I sold you on maintaining friendships yet? How about that sleepy conscience Twain refers to? Who else are we going to be foolish with than our friends? Who will know our stories, and keep them locked up in a vault only we can reminisce about? An ideal life is full of stories, whether we tell anyone else about them or not.

      (Happy Birthday, my friend)

    • Anything You Need

      You could have a steam train
      If you’d just lay down your tracks
      You could have an aeroplane flying
      If you bring your blue sky back
      All you do is call me
      I’ll be anything you need
      — Peter Gabriel, Sledgehammer

      When we witness change in other people, do we celebrate it with them or work to drag them back down to where they once were? Are we a trusted ally or a part of the problem they’re working to break away from? Now look in the mirror and ask, which are we to ourselves?

      We may quietly let things happen to us or be quite active in leading the charge. We have the agency to alter the outcome, if we use it. To go be a sledgehammer and ditch the old form for transform.

      Sure, this writer is carrying on about change again, but for a change, maybe act on it a bit more? Decide what to be and go be it. Just this once. Be anything you need. Doesn’t your life depend on it?

    • A Future Sky

      What shape
      waits in the seed of you
      to grow and spread
      its branches
      against a future sky?
      — David Whyte, What to Remember When Waking

      I saw a seal this morning, a dark shape floating quietly in the bay, unmistakeable, assessing the rising sun, perhaps, or more likely catching a breath before diving for breakfast once again. As with these things, the binoculars were handy but not the camera, so you’ll just have to take my word for it. Walking down to try to catch another glimpse, I saw nothing and everything all at once. Let’s go with everything this morning.

      My mind is full of change lately. This blog is full of change lately. The same yet different.

      We cannot predict the future or our place in it, we can only choose a path and work towards that which we dreamed of becoming. Castles in the air, as Thoreau put it, must have a foundation. Work on that today. Tomorrow will unfold as it may.

    • Release It

      “Compared with what we ought to be, we are only half awake. Our fires are damped, our drafts are checked. We are making use of only a small part of our possible mental and physical resources.” — William James

      We marvel at those who are exceptional in their pursuits. Those who reach the pinnacle of achievement are rare and fascinating to behold. We can rattle off their names, envision them rising to meet their greatest moments, and wonder at how much more we humans can achieve. That many of them are flawed in other aspects of their lives offers some reassurance that nobody is perfect. We all have crosses to bear, after all, but just look at how they soar when they leave it behind.

      Naturally, this gets us thinking about what we’re doing with our own unlimited potential. Mostly we try to get through the day, hoping the commute home isn’t too bad. To reach for personal excellence (arete) seems just out of reach. But that’s where arete is meant to be.

      We aren’t meant to ever reach perfection, we are here to climb as close to it as we may, given the limitations of a lifetime. That doesn’t make the ascent less worthy—it makes our daily excuses all the more tragic.

      Please release me, let me go
      For I don’t love you anymore
      To waste our lives would be a sin
      Release me and let me love again
      — Engelbert Humperdinck, Release Me

      (Isn’t it crazy what resides within us, yearning to be released? Some things must be released as quickly as possible. Sorry, Engelbert.)

      So what are we to do? Do what the legends of our time do: put aside our burden of excuses and focus the available time and energy that release frees up towards that which makes us shine in a world that would otherwise be darker without our excellence. Whatever that is. It’s struggling to emerge from the weight of our excuses. Release it already.

    • Eggs and Tarragon

      We are creatures of routine, and I am no exception. I could begin every morning for the rest of my life eating eggs and tarragon, a scattered bunch of cherry tomatoes with an ice cold glass of water and a hot coffee to wash it all down. Boring? Perhaps. But well above the normal drive-thru breakfast of most Americans.

      The point is, when we find something that works really well for us, it helps to standardize on that thing, if only to eliminate having to think about one more thing in our days. To go on autopilot about breakfast allows me to focus more on the other things I have to get done today. It’s the taco Tuesday of the breakfast hour, and it works for me.

      Similarly, writing this blog first thing is habituated. As I write this I’m contemplating two large events happening later today that require a lot of brain power to execute properly. Now I only have so much of that brain power to offer, don’t I? It may have been better to defer the writing until after my busy day is done, but I’ve found that it has the opposite effect. When we disrupt our positive morning rituals, we move through our day feeling like something is off. And that simply won’t do.

      So what’s for breakfast? And more, how do we spend our golden hour before the day gets away? There’s no telling what the hours ahead will bring, but at least we’ve started with something we love. Bon appetite.

    • Possibility

      “Wanting things to be simple can become a kind of prison, it really can, because you end up staying trapped inside how you want things to be rather than embracing how they could be. You end up closed. You end up shutting doors to so many possibilities.”
      — Matt Haig, The Life Impossible

      There is a tendency to move towards simplicity as we get older and more settled in our ways. The young think in possibilities, the old embrace safety (let’s not age before our time, eh?). What is certain feels safe. Yet nothing in life is certain—certainly not our position in it. The only certainty is the end, and we shroud that in mystery and superstition too.

      Our path through uncertainty, I believe, lies in awareness and receptivity. When we are fully aware of where we are, of who we are and where we’re going, we begin to see everything as perfectly imperfect. We know that this little dance with life has its share of stubbed toes and slips. One answer is to get back up and start dancing again. Another answer is to find a new dance floor, or dance partner, a new soundtrack to dance to, or maybe a new dance altogether. Being receptive to change opens us up to possibility.

      What is possible for our lives is rarely aligned with what is probable. We must become pattern-breakers to reach possibilities. To explore the world we must leave that which we’ve grown comfortable with, if only for a little while. Having left, we won’t come back the same person. If we come back at all. So why complicate life by leaving at all? Keep it simple, the prison warden in our heads tells us. Simplicity is safe. But it makes everything beyond impossible. At least until we break free of that mind trap.

      This is not an inditement of simplicity (I’m rather fond of it myself), but an encouragement to finding more possibility in each day. Our routines save us by keeping us on track towards our goals, which are themselves possibilities. On that road to find out, it’s always worthwhile to ask ourselves if this is the path we want to be on in the first place. Often, the very next question tends to be, what else is possible? We reaffirm our direction or we refute our belief and move on to something else. Possibility is forever an open question leading us towards a more complete answer to our why.

    • One Who Seeks

      “I have no right to call myself one who knows. I was one who seeks, and I still am, but I no longer seek in the stars or in books; I’m beginning to hear the teachings of my blood pulsing within me. My story isn’t pleasant, it’s not sweet and harmonious like the invented stories; it tastes of folly and bewilderment, of madness and dream, like the life of all people who no longer want to lie to themselves.” ― Hermann Hesse, Demian

      There’s a scene in the movie Good Morning, Vietnam where the song What a Wonderful World is playing while scenes of horror unfold. I used to hate that scene, for taking a beautiful song and associating it with the ugliness of war. Now I understand that the world is always filled with ugliness, and yet it’s also beautiful and yes, wonderful. War is horror, and so sometimes is living. The dichotomy is both external and within us. We are drawn towards that which we seek. But it’s all there, isn’t it?

      As this is published, there are humans executing wars on other humans at the same time as other humans are exploring the void of space. It’s not much different than 50 years ago, is it? Vietnam and the Apollo missions and Civil Rights in the 70’s. Have a look at the headlines today and we see the same stories unfolding. Humans are complicated, and we never really change all that much.

      I may fancy myself a philosopher or a writer tapping away at my keyboard, but the rubber meets the road when we get out into the world and see the ugliness. Sometimes we ourselves are the ugliness. Sit in traffic long enough and you begin to resent the world. Sit in a meeting listening to others ramble about nonsense and we become nonsensical ourselves. In such times, the journey must turn inward. Just who do we want to be anyway?

      I may look around one day at 94 and realize that I’ve got everything figured out, but it’s folly to believe it so. To reach 94 would be an epic journey in and of itself. To reach old age with a sound mind, with the clarity of purpose burning within and a body capable of sustaining the drive, well, that would be a miracle. The odds are stacked against us humans. And yet people get there, and thrive well beyond that random number we call our age.

      Let’s see how it goes. I’d like to survive the madness we live in now, let alone try to skip to the end of the book to see how it ends. One page at a time is the proper way to immerse ourselves in a great book or a compelling life. It all goes fast enough already—tempus fugit—so do try to be here, now. All change begins within. The worst in us and the best in us are both awaiting which side we truly want to have emerge.

    • Being the Meteor

      “I wondered if I was starting a new era or if I was taking too much with me. This is the challenge of life, isn’t it? Moving forward without annihilating what has gone before. Knowing what to clasp onto and what to release without destroying yourself. Trying not to be the meteor and the dinosaur at once.” — Matt Haig, The Life Impossible

      There is a Latin phrase, “Vince Aut Morire” that translates to “Conquer or Die”. Forget the militaristic, testosterone-filled connotations in the phrase. We aren’t conquering others here, we are mastering ourselves. Mastery is reached through successfully navigating the obstacle course we call our lives.

      “Sure, in each moment we have never been so old, but we are of course also the youngest we will ever be.” — Matt Haig, The Life Impossible

      We are not getting any younger, friend. But we will never be as young as we are right now. So we ought to use this youthful vigor to do bold things with the time. This is our opportunity. That older version of us tomorrow will wish we’d used today better.

      Wishing for change won’t do the trick—we must be the meteor. Annihilating all that must go in hopes of a better tomorrow. In construction we must demo the old to make room for the new. We are no different. This is today’s mission, always and forever.

    • Living in Words

      “Write what should not be forgotten.” — Isabel Allende

      I am not gifted with a photographic memory. As a result, I take a lot of notes when I’m in meetings, I also take a lot of pictures to capture people in happy moments I’d like to reflect on one day, and of course, I write. This blog has captured in amber many thoughts of the age at which they were written, captured moods and emotions, captured faraway moments and COVID-era shelter-in-place thoughts. It’s the experience of living in words.

      Writing a daily blog is different from writing a novel or a poem or a song. It’s more akin to writing an editorial for the newspaper. It’s still writing, but it’s also more in the moment, versus the timeless wonder produced in a great novel. Even writing that, I know it to be untrue. If this is the last blog post I ever wrote, wouldn’t I aspire to timeless wonder before publishing it? We want to be remembered for something beyond the average, not for the random post we just mailed in that day.

      Still, writing every day creates an average. Write every day for years and we see trends. And hopefully we see the average rise. Why do it otherwise? Why not simply stop the blog and focus on a novel instead? It doesn’t have to be an either/or proposition, but wouldn’t the time be better served producing something unforgettable? Would a novel look better on a resume than a blog? Perhaps. But who says a blog, done every day for years, doesn’t become wonderful and timeless and maybe even unforgettable as well? It’s something to aspire to, since we’re here anyway.

    • The Doorway

      It doesn’t have to be
      the blue iris, it could be
      weeds in a vacant lot, or a few
      small stones; just
      pay attention, then patch

      a few words together and don’t try
      to make them elaborate, this isn’t
      a contest but a doorway

      into thanks, and a silence in which
      another voice may speak.
      —Mary Oliver, Praying

      I had lunch with a friend earlier this week. She asked me about my writing, wondering when I’d get back to publishing. I mentioned that I’ve been publishing every morning for years now. The blog hides in plain sight. It’s a marketing person’s nightmare I know. Yet here it is, as it always has been, if one should wish to find it. A quiet voice in the storm.

      I don’t write for views and likes—I write to enter that doorway Mary Oliver describes above. I share it because it’s not a journal, but my idea of creative output. The jury may be out on just how creative the output is, and I’m okay with that, simply because I don’t seek them even as I appreciate them. And appreciation is surely one reason to get up every morning to begin filling our blank page.

      There is also attention and awareness. I believe we are all aware as children but grow out of it through formal education, narrowing viewpoints and the hectic lives we embrace in the quest for success (whatever that is). Some never reach that state of wonder again, while some of us spend the rest of our lives working to grow back into it. May we all reach back into wonder before we reach the end.

      I aspire to write as efficiently, as beautifully, as a poet. To convey with brevity and emotional weight all that is encountered in this brief go at things. As this is published, it will be post number 2,850. Is that enough to say, or should I keep entering new doorways? The answer lies in how far we have left to go.