Alexandersmap

    Month: June 2026

    • Participation

      This blog is on a sabbatical of sorts, with an occasional post to let you know I’m still around. I’m not sure when or if I will return to posting every day, but I can assure you that I still have much to see and do and to ponder and write about. The world demands only our brief presence with it, not our participation. Participation is a choice we make to dance with life in our time and place.

      For the last two weeks I’ve been in France, experiencing that country’s joie de vivre first-hand, and also the extreme heat that has made the news around the world. The heat modified a few plans, but it didn’t cancel any. We are changed for having been there, which is exactly what travel offers. Will it influence my daily rituals now that I’ve returned? Almost certainly. Just as assuredly, my perspective and writing will also be transformed for having been. With France, you never really leave it, it stays with you for as long as memories do.

      Rather than post a bunch of familiar pictures of the Eiffel Tower or the Mona Lisa or some such bucket list item, here are three pictures of the sun from uniquely beautiful locations. Each has their own story, as each day must. Like every great experience in a lifetime, we will linger on each memory with the hope of returning one day.

      The sun slowly dropping into the hazy English Channel as seen from the top of the hill at Arromanches-les-Baines in Normandy. 82 years ago this was the sight of “Port Winston”, the artificial port built here to create the essential supply chain that would decide the outcome of World War II. A visit reminds you not only of the sacrifice of so many, but the stunningly beautiful place that it had been before the German occupation and is once again.
      The sun rising above the mud flats and shifting sands of the Bay of Mont Saint-Michel. There is quicksand and a rapidly rising tide in the flats, making it treacherous for those who don’t heed the warnings. Mont Saint-Michel is a stunning destination worthy of the pilgrimage so many took to arrive here. We spent one night on the island, which gave me the opportunity to take this photo as the new day began.
      Sun setting over the Loire River from the banks of Amboise, France. Just behind me over my right shoulder is the Château Royal d’Amboise, where Francis I, former King of France, lived. Francis invited Leonardo da Vinci to spend his final years in Amboise, given a generous stipend and a home at Château du Clos Lucé just up the road. Leonardo da Vinci final resting place is in Amboise, supposedly in the Château Royal d’Amboise with a view similar to this sunset view. I can think of worse places to spend eternity.

    • Alive and… Well?

      To pay attention, this is our endless and proper work.
      — Mary Oliver, Yes! No!

      What we pay attention to determines how we live, who we are and who we will become. To notice the little details is immersive, or it’s distracting—it all depends on what our attitude is on the matter. There’s just so much to pay attention to. There’s just so much to see and do and be.

      I’ve noticed that some people have receded from the conversation. Or maybe it was me all along. I’ve been sliding in the direction of less is more for some time now (even as I’m busier than ever: I’m a living contradiction). Shifting this blog from every day without fail to now and then when I have something to say is indicative of an inclination to step out of the noisy lane towards a quieter path. Perhaps one day I’ll get there.

      Alive and, well, less focused on rushing this moment along for the next dose of click bait or sound bite packaged just so. Social media, text streams, demands for our time, and good god, the news of the day. It’s all just so distracting and not us. We are here, now. We ought to be aware of it all, at the expense of all that we ought to ignore.

      “The essence of greatness is the perception that virtue is enough.” — Ralph Waldo Emerson

      To be engaged with everything is to be focused on nothing. Slow down and have a look around. See the world as a poet or a philosopher observes it. This is the path to a deeper awareness than the fast track offers. Where is the fast track bringing us anyway? Life shouldn’t be a blur of forever next. It all flies by fast enough already. To be quietly virtuous, aware and fully alive: That feels worthy of our remaining time together. This is our great life, so have a look around.

    • An Expansive Life

      What do you want from life
      To get cable TV
      and watch it every night
      There you sit
      a lump in your chair
      — The Tubes, What Do You Want From Life?

      I was talking to someone I’ve known a long time at a family event last week, and mentioned that I’d be visiting Paris later this summer. His response surprised me. He looked at me earnestly, and asked, “But what about the rioters?” And with that, he reminded me that underneath his gruff exterior, he was a fearful boy who watches too much television “news”.

      I’m not here to judge the person I was talking to (I like him very much), or to berate the entertainment vehicle he watches that calls itself a news program (I would rather have my nails extracted than watch news programs), but I think it’s fair to ask ourselves, what exactly do we want from life? To be spun up in a fearful ball afraid to venture across borders real and imagined, or to reach beyond our comfort zone to try something new? We will live a life as expansive as we wish it to be.

      We have agency in how our lives go. We may be street smart and still venture into unfamiliar places far beyond our locked doors. Be bold! Life will end either way. ’tis better to wear out than to rust away. The world awaits our next move.

    • Old Men Ought to be Explorers

      Old men ought to be explorers
      Here or there does not matter
      We must be still and still moving
      Into another intensity
      — T.S. Eliot, Four Quartets: East Coker

      Not old. Not yet anyway. But oh my, we’re getting there. And so there is a calling to do more with the time available. To become more in the process of doing. Old men ought to be explorers.

      I’m publishing less often these days. Consider it a sabbatical of sorts, with an abundance of other things to focus on. I enjoy the process enough to suggest that I’ll be back again. With the level of surety of one who knows the fragility of promises.

      To return means to first venture somewhere. To be and see and do that which transforms us in meaningful ways into a greater version of our selves. Returns, like tomorrows, are never promised, but they’re suggested. I would suggest that this blog, founded on the idea of travel and history, poetry and song, will return again with something more to say.

      But first, there’s this matter of moving into another intensity.

    • Imaging Order

      “I would warn you that I do not attribute to nature either beauty or deformity, order or confusion. Only in relation to our imagination can things be called beautiful or ugly, well-ordered or confused.” — Baruch Spinoza

      The world may feel chaotic. Spinoza suggests that much of what we feel is stirred up from within—derived from our own perspective on things. It follows that we may find order in chaos with clear thinking and a calm mind.

      This year has felt chaotic for me, and perhaps for you too. In the craziest of times, it may not feel appropriate to slow down, but that’s exactly what we need the most. Order depends on us to root itself into something solid. Let that be our way of thinking about the world and our place in it. Imagine order and help it find it’s own foundation, that it may grow.

      In this way, we change the world from chaotic to something more beautiful. We are the line in the sand, standing our ground. A windbreak in the swirling madness. It may sting at times, but we guarantee a more stable future through our attitude and resilience.

    • The Emotional Landscape

      “When a man is prey to his emotions, he is not his own master.”
      — Baruch Spinoza

      The journey to personal excellence moves through an emotional landscape. To keep one’s head, to choose one’s reaction to any stimulus, moves us closer to mastery of the mind. Like arete, we will never reach mastery in anything, but we may move closer than we thought possible on our climb.

      Is it a climb or a labyrinth of our own making? Sometimes, when we feel like we’re walking around in circles, it feels very labyrinth-like. But have a glance at just how far we’ve ascended as we build our lives, one lesson upon the other. Keep calm and carry on, the British Ministry of Information would say in the darkest of times of World War II. And so must we in our own time

      “The more clearly you understand yourself and your emotions, the more you become a lover of what is.” — Baruch Spinoza

      Amor fati. Love of fate. We work towards mastery of the self despite the present madness we believe we’re in. There’s always been madness, meanness and unfairness. As Viktor Frankl reminded us, choosing how we react to the world as it presses upon us from all sides, while also trying to eat at us from within, is the only thing we truly control.

    • The Space Between

      Writing without the pressure to publish contradicts all that I’ve said about consistently shipping our work. But to choose to embrace the writing and not the streak of publishing every day for seven+ years liberated this writer from a feeling of obligation. To ramble on just to check a box felt a shallow victory. We aren’t put on this earth to check boxes, we’re put here to add our verse. Instead, I write because I have something to say.

      As with music, the space between often means far more than what initially draws our attention.

    • Anchored Here and Now

      “All change is a miracle to contemplate; but it is a miracle which is taking place every instant.” — Henry David Thoreau, Walden

      I find myself writing from a state of hyper-awareness of change. Scroll through old photo albums and decades worth of digital images representing the lives of those who have passed and we realize that change is the constant in our lives. That and the tight circle of fellow travelers we call family and friends, all working to make sense of this dynamic advancement into the future as we ourselves are. There we were, here we are, and there we go.

      The only thing to do in a changing world is to anchor into something solid. Anchors are often disguised as ritual and habit. Often it’s the very people and place that we take for granted as we move through time. That favorite café we get our liquid energy at. The bookstore we wander through when the day feels chaotic. The playlist we return to when we need a lift. A solid anchorage looks different for each of us, but serves the same purpose: keeping us grounded in something tangible when change is swirling all around us.

      If I may offer some unsolicited advice as we navigate a lifetime together, it’s to take more pictures with those fellow travelers we encounter in our todays. Tomorrow will find us wanting more reminders of what was. A photograph is an anchorage locked in amber, reminding us of how much those people staring back at us meant to us in the moment. Document names and places as a gift to those who will one day scroll through our lives in images, wondering just what those people are trying to tell them about our moment.

      We know we can’t stay anchored forever. Life advances, and so must we. We may adapt and grow into what’s next, with a firm sense of who we are and where we’ve been. With an eye on the adventures yet to come.