Alexandersmap

    Author: nhcarmichael

    • Doing Our Damndest

      “Life happens too fast for you ever to think about it. If you could just persuade people of this, but they insist on amassing information.” ― Kurt Vonnegut

      Every day is another stack of life lessons. It’s all a blur—a rapidity of memories rushing past. Right to the end. And to borrow from Vonnegut again, so it goes.

      I shake my head at all the books I’ve read trying to find answers to life’s questions. Philosophy, business, poetry, history, a taste test of the world religions, biographies of the greats, and that lumpy guilty pleasure category that I shudder to think about as I get older, self-help. What we consume comes to consume us. So we ought to make it as nutritious as possible.

      Looking back on a list of goals I stumbled across from three decades ago, I saw that I’d accomplished some, I’d thrown others onto the pile of “not in this lifetime”, and one or two still gnaw at my soul, awaiting my attention. In this way, I’m like everyone else who’s ever lived long enough to see the past receding into the distance. If we’re lucky, we’ll reach the end feeling like we’ve done enough.

      Enough. What is enough anyway? It’s a question that rises up within as we get older. Is this enough or should we do more still? Just when are we going to slow down and enjoy where we are now? We can’t possibly do everything, we can only decide what to be and do our damndest to be it. Maybe we’re already there.

    • Changing Tunes

      Don’t worry about a thing
      ‘Cause every little thing gonna be alright
      — Bob Marley & The Wailers, Three Little Birds

      I was reading an old journal I wrote when I was separating from my first wife (a long, long time ago). Honestly, I’d forgotten that I’d written it, let alone kept it, and forgotten who that guy was who was struggling with that moment. Thanks for the reminder, I guess. We remember the lowest moments, but not always the daily slog through the darkness.

      If I could go back to that guy and tell him anything, it would be to stop listening to Pearl Jam’s “Black” and listen to Bob Marley’s “Three Little Birds” instead. Because everything would be all right, as soon as I stepped out of that miserable cycle of a failing marriage and stepped towards the uncertainty of a far brighter future. We all go through our share of crap. Why swim in it any longer than we absolutely have to? Move on to brighter days.

      Within a few months everything changed for me. I’m still riding that wave of brighter days all these years later. I just needed to find the right person to spend forever with. And realize that every little thing was gonna be alright. Sometimes we just have to change our tune to a better soundtrack for the place we wish to go to.

    • Slow Down

      Slow down, you move too fast
      You got to make the morning last
      Just kicking down the cobblestones
      Looking for fun and feelin’ groovy
      — Simon & Garfunkel, The 59th Street Bridge Song (Feelin’ Groovy)

      I had a college philosophy professor who used to mock this song in class, for all is not groovy in the world and we must be aware of that fact. But I keep coming back to the lyrics, slow down, you move too fast, and recognize the truth in them. Time is flying past, and we must slow down and have a look before it’s gone forever. Tempus fugit indeed.

      Awareness is the goal, not grooviness. It’s cool to be groovy, it’s vital to be aware. For our vitality is wrapped up in being here in this moment, making the most of it before it’s gone. This is us, we are here (but not for long). Groove on that for a while.

      Looking around, I see I have way too much on my plate. But before you preach to me about taking my own advice, recognize what I have seen: that this is a temporary condition of a productive life, and this phase will pass soon enough. Amor fati. Make the moment last, such that it is, but be sure to slow down too. That would be groovy.

    • Steeping in This

      To live a full life seems to be the goal for many of us. “Full” denotes an expansive, experience-rich life. That seems appealing to those who wish to see the world, read much of a rich library, roam the hallways of the greatest museums, or thrill to the bucket list items available to many of us in a free society.

      The alternative is to live a simple life, full in its own immersive way, with daily rituals, familiar and trusted friends and family, and work we can gently hang up at the door as we walk in to greet our family. In a maddening world such as ours, doesn’t it feel comforting to live a life filled with a strong sense of place, community and predictability? There’s richness in ritual. Take the teabag out of the cup before it’s had a chance to steep and we’re left with weak tea. It ought to linger a while before being plucked out for a quick sip.

      Which is the better life? Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. What is clear is that trying to have both dilutes the experience of either. Wherever we are, we ought to be all in in that lifestyle. Not just physically present, but also not scheming some escape plan. Be here, now. Or be there. Not forever in limbo between the two.

      Steep on that a while.

    • Pinus Strobus

      “How much of this invisible dust must be floating in the atmosphere, and be inhaled and drunk by us at this season! Who knows but the pollen of some plants may be unwholesome to inhale, and produce the diseases of the season?” — Henry David Thoreau

      For all my love of the outdoors, there are a few weeks a years that tax the soul. We’re in the thick of it now: pollen season. Specifically, the pollen of the white pine tree, which expels clouds of pollen that coats everything vomit green with a tinge of phlegm yellow.

      Now I know that statement has a negative connotation, because it’s absolutely meant to, but that doesn’t mean I hold a grudge against the trees. They were here first. I think that I should go instead. Buy a boat and sail away from green clouds to experience blue water.

      Trees are rooted to place. Humans are built to move. Preferably somewhere beyond the reach of Pinus Strobus.

    • Life is Conditional

      Can you hear me?
      That when it rains and shines
      It’s just a state of mind
      Can you hear me?
      — The Beatles, Rain

      Up and out early this morning for all the wrong reasons, the rain was pouring down in sheets. Hydroplaning was an issue, and the ride out and back again was stressful. Rain and driving is completely different from rain and sipping coffee while listening to it tap on the roof and windows. Place matters when it rains.

      So too does state of mind, as John Lennon reminded us in one of my favorite Beatles songs. Our attitude is everything, in all things. Can you hear me? Well, most everything. The rain doesn’t care a lick what our attitude is, and we ought to be grounded in reality if we hope to thrive (or survive) the current circumstances.

      Amor fati (Love of fate). Life is conditional, after all. We don’t have to love the weather or the people currently in power or the performance of our favorite sports team, but we should accept it for what it is. This is our fate. Denial is a prison sentence for the weakest of minds. Accept what is and decide how to react. Rain or shine, whatever will be will be. The question is, what are we to do now?

    • Our Ever After

      “Whoever is too well off always wants to try something different!” — Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, The Mouse, the Bird, and the Sausage

      This strange little fairy tale about a bird, mouse and a sausage living together is undeniably odd (beginning with the sausage), yet it carries important lessons. When did we stop paying attention to the lessons? Adults always forget them, which is why the world feels that it’s a step or two away from disaster. Yet somehow we carry on anyway.

      For those inclined not to follow random links in blog posts, the lesson is essentially the quote above. And maybe to not let your sausage friend wander around in the woods. Or to choose friends that aren’t so tasty to others. Really, the lessons are where you find them. But for our purposes, let’s stick with the quote above.

      There’s a whole lot of people who are so comfortable in their lives that they feel compelled to find things to be outraged about. Call it smug indignation if you like. We’ve learn who they are because they’re inclined to tell us just how terrible things are. Life is outrageous. Life is unfair. Don’t we deserve better than this?

      Life will eat us alive one day (Memento mori). We ought to know that by now. Just what are we going to do about it? It’s all a matter of focus. Instead of scarcity and unfairness, why not try gratitude for what is going well for us today. Tomorrow will take care of itself. If we arrive there to see it.

      Being grateful and content with where we are is something we grow into as we experience life. The restlessness of our youth may be replaced by the wisdom of our age. At least if we stop listening to talking heads telling us how outraged we ought to be. Life is nothing but a big fairy tale. We believe the stories we want to believe, and that largely determines whether we’ll live happily ever after. In case anyone missed the lesson, our ever after is largely up to us.

    • Just Passing By

      “Hoping to live days of greater happiness, I forget that days of less happiness are passing by.” — Elizabeth Bishop

      The lilacs are almost past. A couple of unusually hot days sent them on their way. They’re on the path to just a memory, like all of us, really. Were it only possible that we all smelled as good in our dance with daylight. Alas, we each bloom in our own way.

      Every word I type delays the inevitable. There’s yard work to be done, and looking around, there aren’t a lot of volunteers lined up for it. It looks like I’m at the front of the line. In fact, I am the line. The fact of the matter is, I like to work even as I grumble about it sometimes.

      It’s not just the work—there’s living to be done while doing it. Dreams of a better tomorrow waste the ripe potential of today. We’re all just passing by the moments one after the other. So have a look around, and don’t forget to smell the lilacs.

    • Stay in Touch

      I was talking with my bride about a close family member who is slipping into his final days. She wondered if, having outlived many of his friends, his funeral and wake would be well-attended. The most crowded funerals are for the young, aren’t they? Those who die too soon leave behind a mass of people who know who they were in that moment. But what of the old? Are we doomed to live a lonely “too long”, like a character in Eleanor Rigby?

      I don’t believe it to be so. We should keep refreshing our mass of people right to the end. Our ripple is a lifetime obligation of making and maintaining connection. Not for a crowded funeral, but for the ripple that carries on well after the ceremony is a memory. And more, for the ripple that courses through us for having known the people we form relationships with.

      When we lose touch with people, they slip away from our lives. Sometimes this is desired, sometimes life just gets in the way. It’s up to us to stay in touch. Of course, it’s up to them too. The phone works both ways, as they say. But I believe we each ought to lead the charge on such things. Instead of saying the phone works both ways, why not say, if not us, then who? We have agency. If that person we wish to stay connected with opts out, well, we honored our part. And life goes on.

      When I think about people I used to know who are no longer in my life, I think of them just the same whether that person is alive or has passed away. Our time together has ended, but the memories remain. Hopefully there’s enough joy in those memories that we are warmed in our recollection. It’s unfinished business that haunts us, not the good memories. Relationships aren’t meant to be transactional—’tis always best to finish our business before we say goodbye, perhaps for the last time.

      The streak that was this blog being published every day ended earlier this week. Honestly, I didn’t expect to be back so soon with two posts this week. I’ve decided that the streak isn’t what matters to me anymore, it’s having something to say and writing it that matters to me. Like reaching out to an old friend, we have agency over how we approach everything that resonates in our lives. The blog is less a daily ritual to me now than it was when I paused it. Perhaps this and future posts are simply my way to stay in touch.

      We’ll have to see if it ripples.

    • Outcomes

      What fills the void when we remove a habit? We hope to fill the space with better habits. Perhaps our workouts will become better and more consistent. Perhaps we’ll read more than we did before. Perhaps we’ll use that time to be more alive in the world. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps…

      Then again, maybe it wasn’t the habit that was the problem. Maybe it was rest of the time around the habit that was lacking. Maybe it was the feeling of obligations—that something had to be done no matter what. We have enough obligations in our lives. Can’t we just enjoy ourselves? Life isn’t that easy, friend.

      I write for the writing’s sake. I ought to do more of it, but for the day job and the feeling that it isn’t my path to travel. Like so many options that turn into “not for me”, not every whim and desire arrives at an outcome. And maybe that’s as it should be.

      Should I publish this and arrive at one outcome, or is writing it enough? Save as draft or publish? The answer is in the click. Isn’t it interesting how one small action may change an outcome forever? As with all outcomes, it helps to know where it is that we wish to arrive before we act. That fact shouldn’t distract us from realizing that action towards something meaningful was all that ever mattered anyway.