Alexandersmap

    Author: nhcarmichael

    • Collecting Evidence

      “I don’t know what that means. To truly live.’
      Kongo paused again, his eyes wandering to the walls of the cave, to the blackness at the far end.
      ‘To find work that you love, and work harder than other men. To learn the languages of the earth, and love the sounds of the words and the things they describe. To love food and music and drink. Fully love them. To love weather, and storms, and the smell of rain. To love heat. To love cold. To love sleep and dreams. To love the newness of each day.”
      ― Pete Hamill, Forever

      If you’ve never read Forever by Pete Hamill, consider it worthy of your time. I wander back to it now and then, when I think of Cormac and Thunder leaping towards their destiny in the New World. I have no business re-reading it now, with so many books awaiting my attention, and yet it found me again anyway.

      How do we live? The proof will unfold daily, in our choices. It’s in who we reach out to and how we react to our awareness of the world’s general indifference to us. We are here to master the self, not the universe. Personal excellence, that old friend Arete, will always be just over that next rise in the hill. Never fully realized. And yet we may live and grow and become something more profound than who we’ve started our day with.

      Indeed, this day is entirely new. And ours to perhaps fully embrace or maybe waste in our usual offhand way. “The proof will be in your living”, Kongo later says in that enchanting chapter of that magical novel that I keep returning to now and again. And indeed, life unfolds thusly. What will we look back on one day, thinking of today’s climb? May the newness of this day provoke us to collect evidence of a worthy ascent.

    • Call It Inspiration

      “The composer does not sit around and wait for an inspiration to walk up and introduce itself…Making music is actually little else than a matter of invention aided and abetted by emotion. In composing we combine what we know of music with what we feel.” — George Gershwin

      I once wrestled with time. Once I called it time management, and then productivity, and maybe a few other names along the way. The way itself is time, and within it, we produce something or we do not. It was never really time at all, it was how we use our lives. And how we use our lives is who we are, and who we will become, and how we will be remembered one day.

      That’s a lot of wrestling.

      Perhaps that effort is better applied towards discovery. I write every day to discover what will stroll into the room next. We go back and forth a bit, I takes notes as quickly as I can, and the muse exits once again. Who saw that coming? And thanks for the, uh, time.

      Yesterday I finished a delightful book I’d never have read but for the fact that I said yes to it at the exclusion of a lot of great options I said no to. And then I immediately started reading another. The more books we read, the less we’re staring at a screen. That seems like a great trade-off to me. What does that have to do with productivity? Everything. And nothing at all.

      All that we do in our lives is derived from the experiences we make for ourselves. Writing, reading, travel, work, coexisting with these characters in our lives… it all accumulates into something larger than where we began this journey. And growth is where it’s at, friend. We are alive, and life is forever growing into something more than we started as. Just keep heading towards the light, wherever it takes us. Call it inspiration if it helps.

    • Difference Awaits

      “Normality is a paved road: it’s comfortable to walk, but no flowers grow on it.” — Vincent Van Gogh

      What do you dream about? Who knows? Some people seem to remember all of their dreams. For some of us, the world of dreams is slammed shut upon waking. Is there a metaphor in there somewhere about waking up to finally begin living one’s dreams? Wouldn’t that be the obvious path to take right about now?

      My own dreams, such that they are, usually end with me waking up trying to figure a way out of some maze I’d wandered into, or to find a solution to some problem that doesn’t exist in reality. Ah, you dream interpreters, there’s nothing to see here! We’re all figuring things out as we go. Every day is a winding road.

      We may choose to wander off the beaten path any time we want to, for it’s our story to write. That beaten path laying up ahead is beaten for a reason. It’s tried and true, and won’t make our mothers lie awake at night in worry. Taking the road less traveled makes all the difference, right? Ask a poet:

      Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
      I took the one less traveled by,
      And that has made all the difference.
      — Robert Frost, The Road Not Taken

      The thing is, most of us aren’t choosing poetry or painting as a career path. We’re figuring things out as we go, not wandering off into the wilderness. Maybe that means fewer flowers, but it also helps pay the mortgage. And so paths less traveled by remain in our dreams.

      Then again, we may opt to stray further and further from the beaten path each day, returning to pay the bills and such, but building those wandering muscles and stretching our inclinations in new directions. Our path is simply where we are heading at the moment. Perhaps it’s paved, perhaps it’s full of wildflowers or thistle or perilous beasts that make us break into a cold sweat for the terror of it all.

      Fear not! Our path is meant to be figured out. Like an Andy Weir novel, there’s always a way out of the maze. We just need to wake up to see it. And having seen it, to take that path to where difference awaits.

    • All We Have

      What if you suddenly saw that the silver of water was brighter than the silver of money?
      —Mary Oliver, How Would You Live Then?

      The time does fly by, doesn’t it? Tempus fugit. Does our time grow shorter, or does our experience grows greater with the years? Isn’t it in how we look at things? It always was and always will be about what we focus on. Are we living in a time of scarcity or abundance? We have as much of each as we wish to see.

      The answer may be to stop listening to those who would tell us otherwise. Knowing that sometimes we are our own worst false prophet—sowing discontent with the status quo for the love of more. Never grow blind to all that is and will be if we just stay the course with all we have.

      We are blessed in life when we are finally aware of all that surrounds us. We find that we don’t want to miss this opportunity at hand chasing dreams of better all the time. What’s better than the dreams we are realizing now? If we wish to savor time, we ought to stop throwing it away chasing better. Better isn’t discovered by chasing it—better is something we grow into with time.

    • A Gracious Overplus

      “As one who had lived, and were now to die by right, whatsoever is yet remaining, bestow that wholly as a gracious overplus upon a virtuous life. Love and affect that only, whatsoever it be that happeneth, and is by the fates appointed unto thee. For what can be more reasonable?” — Marcus Aurelius, Meditations

      We have informed the world of who we are by what we have done to this point in the game. Naturally, this informs us as well. We ought to think of what happens ahead of us as the life of someone else entirely. It’s an invention of imagination applied to time.

      Whatsoever is yet remaining awaits. It’s all bonus time after we reach awareness. A gracious overplus. Decide what to be and go be it, as the song goes. The trick is to believe in the dream enough to go be it. So what will it be?

    • The Earthly Tiara

      “Every carbon atom in every living thing on the planet was produced in the heart of a dying star.” — Brian Cox

      Were you in awe at the images sent back to Earth from Artemis II? It was hard not to feel emotion in that moment. Glimpsing Mother Earth, in all her glory, from the other side of the moon. Think about the billions of people who have lived on this planet, never imagining that view, let alone seeing it. There are now 28 humans who have flown to the moon and back. We may never be amongst the astronauts voyaging through space, but were alive to share the miraculous moment when those pictures arrived for all to see. There are no borders in space.

      Earth Day came and went again without my commenting on it. It wasn’t from indifference (I am equally reverent), I simply felt that there was nothing to add to the conversation that hadn’t already been said. Mother Earth will one day shrug off humanity, as she shrugged off all sorts of life before us. We are stardust and billion-year-old carbon alive in the moment and will one day be recycled into some other matter. Whether science or religious in explanation, rejoice in the miracle of being alive, assembled just so, for the time being. For it’s all a wonder to behold.

      “We are the cosmos made conscious and life is the means by which the universe understands itself.” — Brian Cox

      Artemis, the twin sister of Apollo, both daughters of Zeus. Artemis, independent protector of nature and untamed forests, representative of chastity and childbirth, with her bow and arrow and crescent moon tiara. She is a badass Greek goddess who demands respect and more than a little awe. NASA chose a great name for this mission, this spaceship and its crew. Like Olympians, they inspire us through their actions. The world needed both examples this year, just to remind us that there is meaning to be found, and wonder to behold, beyond the grasp of the least imaginative among us.

      It’s easy to be jaded when it comes to human nature, but now and then some peoples reach just a little closer to the gods and show the rest of us what’s possible. What seemed miraculous becomes attainable. Artemis had a new tiara to show off, didn’t she? The crescent Earth, glittering in the black void of space, showing us once again that we are a miracle of cosmic carbon dancing in the light.

    • Coffee Collaboration

      “As soon as coffee is in your stomach, there is a general commotion. Ideas begin to move…similes arise, the paper is covered. Coffee is your ally and writing ceases to be a struggle.”
      — Honoré de Balzac, The Pleasures and Pains of Coffee

      May I take a moment to dwell on the mug of coffee recently departed from this world? Now, the typical time to dwell on coffee is while it is still with you, but mine seemingly evaporated before my eyes. One moment I’m having my first sip, the next? Empty cuppa. Our time is fleeting, isn’t it? Surely a reminder to slow down, stop rushing through life and savor what we have in the moment. Sure. This is coffee, and coffee demands we get going already.

      My morning ritual is two glasses of water while the coffee is brewing, then two cups of coffee while writing. I might get away with one cup of coffee if I were to tolerate room-temperature coffee (or, god forbid, microwaving coffee to reheat it). Alas, I don’t tolerate such things, I savor the first few sips, and guzzle the last few. ’tis not the writing that distracts from the drinking of coffee, ’tis the coffee that lubricates the ritual. One without the other would be possible, but not delightful. Don’t we need to dance with more delight in this life?

      The thing is, we each have our rituals that make our days shine a little brighter, make us more productive in our pursuits, and make us more aware and alive. Writing and coffee go together well, but so do reading and coffee, or catching up with a fellow life-traveler and coffee, or any number of things. Coffee isn’t selective in the habit you pair it with, it goes with the flow. And doesn’t that make it the perfect partner to collaborate with?

    • Full of Answers

      “Life has no meaning. Each of us has meaning and we bring it to life. It is a waste to be asking the question when you are the answer.” — Joseph Campbell

      I spent yesterday in a busy office, bouncing ideas off of others, being interrupted from my work flow to discuss projects or weigh in on what some other characters should have for lunch, catching up on who has left and who is carrying the burden of their absence (clever executives believing doing more with less is a model of efficiency), and generally being in the mix of team dynamics.

      What brings us to life, if not our engagement with others, and the world beyond? We find productivity in solitude, but richness with company. There is a healthy balance to be found as an integral part of the tribe sometimes, and in quietly going our own way other times. It’s not so much that we need others, it’s that we choose to be with others, for all that others bring to us and we in turn bring to them.

      What has meaning in an empty house? Nothing, I suppose. But is a house empty if we are in it, assessing its relative emptiness? Fullness comes from within. Here too, we find the seed of meaning from which to grow a life. The answers in our lives always begin from within, and yet we must reach beyond the self to realize them. We will never truly escape the labyrinth in this lifetime, but who ever said being full of answers was the purpose of the game anyway?

    • Our One Passenger

      “To exist is to change, to change is to mature, to mature is to go on creating oneself endlessly.” — Henri Bergson

      We are not who we once were. We come to know this, and either work to reject the premise or accept that change for all it represents. The former is rather sad in the end (when the truth catches up to us), the latter may be sad initially, until we move on to the next. Replaying our greatest hits (and misses) simply chains us to a standard that no longer exists. And none of us want to be the person making a fool of themselves (even if we’re pretty good at it).

      The trick is to be young at heart and vibrant to the end, but also wise beyond our years. How do we balance this? I believe it’s by being active: To be fit and moving kicks that old body we’ll grow into down the curb for as long as possible. To forever be a student of life keeps the mind engaged and growing. The dream is a body, mind and soul that is sharp and in peak form for whatever age we find ourselves at. When we are at our best we open up the best possibilities available to us here and now. Surely that is something to aspire to.

      How does this look in practice? Instead of dwelling on what once was or what will never be, look at the progress made. Growth is easy to see when we are aware of the distance we’ve come. It’s an ever-expanding catalog of books read and re-read, experiences savored or sometimes simply survived. It’s the expanding menu of foods, languages, hobbies and pursuits accumulated over a lifetime.

      I may not be a golfer, but I’ve played enough golf to delight in a great shot and laugh at myself for a horrible shank. I may never master French or German, but I’ve gone down the path of learning each language. I may never eat fermented shark fin again in my lifetime, but I’ve lived to tell the tale. Those hikes gone terribly wrong? Survived those too, and laugh as I cringe thinking about some of them. It’s all accumulated into who I’ve become, even as it isn’t who I am.

      It’s all our endless creation—until the end. We may be as creative as we wish to be in the pursuit. Not to dwell on the highlights and low points, but to build a better vessel. It’s all ours and nobody else’s. We are one of a kind, forever reinvented for the delight of our one passenger. Knowing how far we’ve come, we may have our courage bolstered for the journey ahead.

    • There and Aware

      “If there seems to be no communication between you and the people around you, try to draw close to those things that will not ever leave you. The nights are still there and the winds roam through the trees and over many lands.” — Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet

      Walking the pup last the last few nights, quietly celebrating her birthday in our meandering walk of stargazing and lawn sniffing (we each have our ritual), I replayed some of the day in my head while the universe spun above like a kaleidoscope of wonder. The waxing crescent moon the last couple of night stuns and delights. Hints of auroras in the air, not reaching us but worthy of diligent glances nonetheless. Venus and Orion have shared the same sky, creating a sky that made the pup’s long investigative sniffs seem shorter.

      The pup appreciates my stargazing, for it gives her time for her own night’s work. Sometimes she’ll lead me off onto a lawn if I’m especially distracted by the sky. Just a reminder that she’s there and aware, so maybe I ought to get my head out of the clouds a bit more. That’s been the goal the entire time, of course. Awareness in the moment—away from all that isn’t here and now. No earbuds, no screens, no replaying the hits and misses of the day. Simply being present on our walks together, until it was time to head back in once again.

      Perhaps we’ll meet again tonight, to do it all over again? The sky will surely offer something completely different to wonder at as the day slowly fades into memory. How long have we been doing this? Three years with this pup, longer with our old friend that preceded her. How many dogs will we have in a lifetime? Such calculations aren’t worth considering. Not when we have this one, now, and such a beautiful sky above and lawns full of smells only a dog could love.