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    • The Compass and the Torch

      “Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
      With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
      Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
      A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
      Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
      Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
      Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
      The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.

      “Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!” cries she
      With silent lips. “Give me your tired, your poor,
      Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
      The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
      Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
      I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”
      – Emma Lazarus, The New Colossus 

      There’s an interesting connection between Emma Lazarus and Henry David Thoreau.  It seems that Emma visited Ralph Waldo Emerson at his home in Concord, Massachusetts in 1876, and met the poet William Ellery Channing while visiting.  Channing was a close friend of Thoreau, and apparently never really got over the death of Thoreau 14 years prior to Lazarus’ visit to Concord.  He proved to be a tough nut to crack, but succumbed to Lazarus as he learned she was an admirer of Thoreau’s.  Channing gave her a personal tour of Thoreau’s Concord, from Walden Pond to the place he was born, and when she was leaving Concord he gave her an incredible gift; Thoreau’s compass.  I admit, that’s a breathtaking gift to me, the compass of Henry David Thoreau, the surveyor of lands and spiritual guide to generations.

      Lazarus, like Thoreau, would live a short life, succumbing to what is believed to be lymphoma at the age of 38.  But like Thoreau she lives on in words of significance created during her short tenure on earth.  Her most famous poem is The New Colossus, which was written to raise funds for the base of the Statue of Liberty, and is forever associated with Lady Liberty.  I’ve read it many times, but find new meaning in it with each reading.

      A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
      Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
      Mother of Exiles.

      When you absorb The New Colossus, you recognize the folly of Trump, the Tea Party and the undercurrent of white privilege that’s always been there but is recoiling under an uncomfortable spotlight.  The Founding Fathers might have been complicated in how they lived their own lives, but the ideas behind the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution were bigger than their lives.  The century after would see a nation boiling inside, putting the words to the ultimate test again and again culminating in the Civil War and Reconstruction, the settlement of the continent and the sweeping aside of Native Americans, much of the wildlife and the very land itself.  Set against this was the rise of Transcendentalism, conservation and preservation.  And all the while the immigrants kept flooding in, fleeing desperation and seeking a new hope in America.  Lazarus represents the open arms of Lady Liberty and America, with no restriction in who might be welcomed when they arrive:

      Give me your tired, your poor,
      Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free

      I know people who despair at Trump and the rise of hatred in America.  I take no pleasure in the vile and ugly amongst us.  But I also take the long view, and recognize that American is shifting once again, and the undercurrent of hatred, racism and greed is unwelcome by the vast majority in this country.  I have faith in the process and believe we’ll come out of this year like no other better for having endured.  America is a land of hope, transcendentalism is founded on the belief in the inherent goodness of people.  Emma Lazarus corresponding with Ralph Waldo Emerson and eventually visiting him shows her own interest in his thoughts and opinions.  When I read The New Colossus I think of Thoreau’s compass that was handed to Lazarus by Channing and the direct link that created between them.  I wonder if she glanced at the compass while writing The New Colossus and found the right words to say.  Words that still show us the way forward, towards our true north as a country.

    • What We Know

      Two nights in a row I was stumped by the sound of birds in the neighborhood.  The first was my old friend the Carolina Wren, making a call that sounded different enough that I didn’t believe it was what it turned out to be.  The second was a Northern Flicker, which I don’t recall hearing in the 21 years I’ve lived in this house.  More likely than not I just hadn’t paid enough attention and they’ve been calling to me in vain for years.  Either way, it reminded me once again of what I don’t know.

      The more the mind opens up to the world, the more we realize what we don’t know about it.  In general I can tell you a thing or two about many things, but I can’t tell you everything about anything, including myself.  Subject matter experts, as the name infers, tend to dive deep into specific subject matter.  I’m more of an informed generalist myself, seeking to learn and understand many things and being proficient enough to fill in the blanks with the help of those who know the way.

      People who demonstrate that they know everything about one thing are eagerly embraced by those who seek to understand the way forward.  On the other hand, People who say that they know everything about everything raise eyebrows and are only followed by zealots.  Who really has it all figured out anyway?  Here’s a hint, it’s not the guy who tells the world he knows everything, no matter what their title is. But it’s also not the subject matter expert.  We know what we know, and work through the rest the best we can.

      We’ve all learned a lot during this ongoing pandemic.  Things we didn’t know about ourselves, about others we thought we knew pretty well, about the way the world works, about what we can live without and can’t live without.  None of us would do a pandemic all over again, but we might miss the simplicity of day-to-day social isolation when its over.  What we thought we knew about pandemics and politics and racial injustice and the people we have known for years is not what we know now.  And it promises to be different again tomorrow.

      “There is only one real knowledge: that which helps us to be free. Every other type of knowledge is mere amusement.” – Vishnu Purana

      I read two page-turner novels over the weekend.  Blew through them in no time. Yes, it was mere amusement, but it was also a nice change of pace from the usual stack of books that I try to tackle.  I try to sprinkle in fun with learning, and reading is fun until you make it a chore.  Reading philosophy, history, poetry and biographies inform and mould the mind in new ways.  But all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.  What we know shouldn’t make us boring and one-dimensional.  What we know should lead us to explore our assumptions more, engage with others more, debate and learn from them, and above all keep moving closer to the truth and freedom hidden just from view.  The learning path is one minor miracle of discovery after another, at least it is when the student is eagerly peaking around the corner at every bend.  I feel I’ve reached that point in my own learning.  I hope that knowledge quest continues until the end.  I’d like to think it will.

       

      Originally posted 6 July 2020

    • Movies Under the Stars

      When I was a kid we’d go to the drive-in movie places that dotted the landscape to catch whatever summer movie was playing that week. You’d roll up to a parking spot, and we’d roll out of the back of the station wagon and establish our turf with blankets and folding chairs. Half the fun of drive-in’s was the social aspect of seeing a movie with friends, cars parked nearby and bouncing around to see who else was there and to visit the snack shack for popcorn and candy. If you wanted to preview a different movie you’d go to a multi-screen drive-in and simply turn around and see what was happening behind you.
      Drive-in’s don’t make a lot of sense as a business. You need cheap land to pull it off, but enough people to fill it to make any money. And then you factor in the weather and the sharp reduction in opportunities to pack the place for maximum profit and you see why the drive-in’s failed over time. I still see a few in out-of-the-way places in the northeast, but mostly they’re a thing of the past. Sometimes you’ll see a lonely screen standing in a neglected lot or on the side of the highway and recall what used to be. But mostly the land is swallowed up for more profitable tenants, with box stores and condos taking the place of the drive-in’s. The last movie I saw at a drive-in was Top Gun at a place that’s now a Home Depot. I tried to listen for the echoes of movies past one time while buying fasteners, but all I heard was the hum and beep of forklifts.
      Last night we tried something different during a party. We erected a pop-up screen and placed a projector on a table connected to a laptop and had a movie night in the back yard. We streamed Hamilton and sat around the table with a fire and the stars and rising moon lighting up the ceiling. And just as with those old drive-in’s we had to wait out the mosquitos before settling into the movie. Hamilton competed with the sound of exploding fireworks as the rest of New Hampshire celebrated the 4th of July in a different way. But it died down as the evening progressed, and it became easier to lose yourself in a broadway musical as other stars danced above us. It brought back those memories of drive-in movies and simpler times when maximizing the profit of the land wasn’t always the primary consideration. I went to sleep with Hamilton tunes stuck in my head and a smile on my face.

      Originally posted 5 July 2020

    • Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness

      “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness. – That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed.”

      I’m late in posting today, but wanted to take a moment to reflect on America’s Independence Day. I’m listening to vast amounts of consumer-grade fireworks being blown up around me. Its quite mad, this roar of explosions near and far. But my morning started in quiet contemplation, reading the Declaration of Independence well before the fuse was lit on the first bottle rocket. In these times, more than any time in my lifetime, I appreciate the boldness and courage captured in the Declaration of Independence. And I’m grateful for the gift of freedom and the reminder of sacrifices made to achieve it.

      Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness. A worthy pursuit, surely worth the price of declaring independence. And tonight, as the citizens of this great country blow up crazy amounts of ordinance in celebration of the anniversary of the signing of the document that shook the world, I celebrate too. Albeit more quietly.

      Originally posted 4 July 2020

    • Following the Bread Crumbs: Coffee with Kant

      “We live in an epoch of discipline, culture, and civilization, but not in an epoch of morality. In the present state, we can say that the happiness of the people grows, and yet the unhappiness of the people increases as well. How can we make people happy when they are not educated to have high morals? They do not become wise.” – Immanuel Kant

      Kant wrote that more than two centuries ago but it rings as true today as it did then. He might not recognize the world we live in today but he’d recognize people’s behavior and tendencies. We might live in a world unimaginable then, but human nature remains roughly the same. People want happiness but not the journey to get there. To know their place in this world but not know themselves. To be informed by distraction while they shun wisdom. But what is the wisdom Kant points us to, and how does it lead us to happiness?  He left a trail of breadcrumbs to follow:

      “Look closely. The beautiful may be small.”

      “Dare to know! Have the courage to use your own.”

      “Genius is the ability to independently arrive at and understand concepts that would normally have to be taught by another person.”

      “Two things fill the mind with ever new and increasing admiration and awe, the more often and steadily we reflect upon them: the starry heavens above me and the moral law within me. I do not seek or conjecture either of them as if they were veiled obscurities or extravagances beyond the horizon of my vision; I see them before me and connect them immediately with the consciousness of my existence.”

      “For peace to reign on Earth, humans must evolve into new beings who have learned to see the whole first.”

      So there’s the path:  Live in awe of the world around us and seek to understand it.  Above all have the courage to think for yourself.  Focus inwardly on your own learning, don’t rely on others to tell you what to see and think.  He’d be thrilled with the vast wealth of knowledge available to humanity today, and chagrined that more people don’t tap into it, instead deferring to others to tell them what to think.  For all our progress, we still have a long way to go.

      I’m leaving my own trail of breadcrumbs as I live my life, as much to find my own way back to these places as it is suggestions for others.  My way of saying “Don’t forget this” in addition to “Hey, check this out!”  But that’s the nature of blogging, isn’t it?  Don’t pretend to have it all figured out, just mention what you see along the way.  Have the courage to put it out there for others to weigh in on.  Adapt and grow.  Develop your own philosophy derived from a lifetime of thoughtful observation, living and learning.

      I tapped into Immanuel Kant while sipping coffee early this morning.  I like to dive into the deep end when my mind is fresh and willing to dance with the great thinkers.  Kant would get along well with Thoreau, Emerson, Muir, Mary Oliver and other brilliant minds.  I’m working to earn a place at that table, for I’d hang with that crowd anytime.  But then again, I guess I already am.  The great thinkers were generous that way.  Thanks for leaving the bread crumbs.

      Originally posted 3 July 2020

    • Work in Progress

      I’ve decided to clean up Alexandersmap a bit. Improve navigation, add meaningful content, optimize for SEO, and make it generally more user-friendly. After writing more than 300,000 words over the last few years, I’m feeling the need to change things up a bit. Step one was to watch a few videos of how others have built their sites. Then I signed up for a WordPress “Happiness Engineer” to Zoom with me for 30 minutes to show me a few tips. All that’s fine and well, but ultimately I’ve just got to mess about with the site and learn it from trial and error. And so what you see now is different from what you saw yesterday, and will likely be very different from what you see a week from now. I could just save this all as templates behind the scenes, but I think it’s more interesting to have it change with me as I modify the site. For those who are interested it might be fascinating or frustrating as a relative novice takes on web site creation. For those who are less interested, thanks for your patience: I’ll continue to write and post every day. Hopefully the writing will hold your interest even as the structure around it changes.
      One thing I’ve learned about my learning process is that watching others do something generally works better for me than reading about it. When I want to know how to install a new bathtub there’s a video for it. When I want to figure out the best way to fix my pool deck, there’s a video for it. And so it is with web site design. YouTube videos of subject matter experts navigating around in Elementor or Gutenberg or Yoast SEO are more instructive for me than other such learning paths. I’m not proficient enough to just figure it all out myself, and don’t want to spend hours of my short lifetime reinventing the wheel. So trial and error with video guidance from SME’s seems to be the right mix for me.
      It seems simplicity is key in whatever it is that makes a great web site. Look at the blogs of Seth Godin, Pico Iyer, Tim Ferriss or Rolf Potts – all of them simple, intuitive and elegant. The best form of flattery is imitation, so these four will be quite flattered should they stumble upon alexandersmap.com sometime in the near future. For now the future remains cloudy, but I know it’ll clear up eventually. You’ve gotta have faith in such things. So as we enter a long weekend in America, I’m dipping into the deep end of web site editing, and we’ll see what comes out the other side.

      Originally posted 2 July 2020

    • The Lure of Falling Water

      “As long as I live, I’ll hear waterfalls and birds and winds sing. I’ll interpret the rocks, learn the language of flood, storm, and the avalanche. I’ll acquaint myself with the glaciers and wild gardens, and get as near the heart of the world as I can.” – John Muir

      What is it about waterfalls?  Is it the sound of falling water hitting hard surfaces and drowning out the rest of the world?  The stunning visual dance of water and light that often creates rainbows in the mist?  Or is it the lure of something bigger than ourselves?  Something timeless and enchanting all at once?  I’m not really sure I can answer my own question.  But I’m drawn to waterfalls just the same.

      We made a point of visiting two waterfalls during a brief visit to Ithaca, New York.  We’ve been to both before, and wanted to see how they looked in a different season.  It turns out that the first attempt was thwarted by the closure of the Cascadilla Gorge Trail because of some damage sustained to the trail that prompted officials to deem it dangerous for the public.  I suspect we would have done just fine on it, but we honored the signs and temporary fencing the City of Ithaca had barring access to the trail.

      Thankfully, the second option was open and available, and we were able to spend a bit of time contemplating Ithaca Falls.  Strangely, there were very few people about.  I always wonder about that when visiting places like Ithaca Falls.  Why aren’t there more people there?  But we were grateful for the relative solitude afforded to us, and the opportunity to see a place like this one more time.  I’m not sure how many times I’ll get back to the many waterfalls of Ithaca; I hope many more.   Why would you visit a place and knowing what lingers nearby, not take a moment for awe and reflection?  It really doesn’t matter why we love it, only that we’re able to spend moments of wonder with falling waters.

    • Dining Out in a Pandemic

      Going out for dinner in the midst of a pandemic, at least in places where people are responsible and informed, requires a shift into the “new normal”.  I’ve dined at restaurants in Massachusetts, New York and New Hampshire since restaurants began opening up again in this new normal, and I’ve taken time to observe a few things.  Before I dive in, count me among the true believers in responsible social behavior at all times, but especially now.  If you’re too casual with your behavior around social distancing, mask wearing and cleaning your hands, I make a mental note of it.  You have a right to your opinion, but mine counts too, and if you aren’t taking measures to prevent people from catching something you might have I simply won’t do business in your establishment.

      Restaurants offer much more outdoor seating than before, which somewhat makes up for the fewer and more distanced tables inside.  Everyone who walks around inside the restaurant is supposed to be wearing a mask, and it seems most everyone follows that rule, whether staff or patrons.  The gray area is the outdoor seating, where some people aren’t sure whether to wear a mask or not.  I think the rule is pretty clear: keep your mask while you’re on the property of the restaurant until you’re backside is planted in the seat they offer you.  Simple, right?  In Massachusetts and New York, the rules are clear: wear the mask or don’t go into the restaurant.  In New Hampshire, the more Libertarian “Live Free or Die” state, it’s more like a strong suggestion.  And behavior reflects this.  I saw several people walk in for a table without a mask on, many in high risk categories.  The staff wore masks at an Italian restaurant I got take-out at, but a few of the servers had the mask tucked below their nose.  Noted.

      The only place that I’ve had my temperature taken before entering was at the dentist.  Getting a haircut everyone wore masks, but there was no screening of patrons.  I checked in to my first hotel since the pandemic began and noticed the rooms are cleaned and sterilized better and the free coffee is no longer in the lobby, but there’s no screening of guests for fever.  That’s been my experience with restaurants as well.  That’s a lot to ask of a small business.  People expect you to self-screen yourself if you’re sick, and aren’t turning people away based on having a fever (if you aren’t screening how would you know anyway?).  Taking a temperature isn’t perfect anyway, and I don’t believe it should be required in most places.  I’d hope that someone who was obviously sick would be politely refused entry should they be bold enough to try.

      The northeast United States was hit by a wave of COVID-19 early, which locked down many businesses.  We tend to believe science over rhetoric around here, and most people have flipped to wearing masks as the price of entry into that new normal.  Restaurants have pivoted too, and most are doing what they can to be open and profitable in this pandemic.  No more buffets, no more candy dishes at the cash register, no more packed restaurant bar full of patrons waiting for their table (wait outside until your table is ready).  But the ones that survived are largely open for business again.  That’s dining in the northeast – follow the rules or go home.  Americans generally don’t like rules and people telling us what to do.  But we’ve all seen what happens when you just open up with no regard for the virus.  Spikes in Florida, Texas, Arizona and other states, even in the heat of summer (sorry, another incorrect Trump statement) are indicative of the danger of COVID-19.  By now we know the drill, this isn’t February people.  So act accordingly.  Eat out and support local businesses, but do it responsibly.

    • Think Like a Mountain

      “We reached the old wolf in time to watch a fierce green fire dying in her eyes. I realized then, and have known ever since, that there was something new to me in those eyes – something known only to her and to the mountain. I was young then, and full of trigger-itch; I thought that because fewer wolves meant more deer, that no wolves would mean hunters’ paradise. But after seeing the green fire die, I sensed that neither the wolf nor the mountain agreed with such a view.…  I now suspect that just as a deer herd lives in mortal fear of its wolves, so does a mountain live in mortal fear of its deer. And perhaps with better cause, for while a buck pulled down by wolves can be replaced in two or three years, a range pulled down by too many deer may fail of replacement in as many decades. So also with cows. The cowman who cleans his range of wolves does not realize that he is taking over the wolf’s job of trimming the herd to fit the range. He has not learned to think like a mountain. Hence we have dustbowls, and rivers washing the future into the sea.” – Aldo Leopold, Sand County Almanac

      We all have favorite writers who take our breath away.  I’ve quoted a few of my favorites frequently in this blog, but not as much Aldo Leopold as I should.  Can you read the passage above and not be breathless at the prose?  Not if you have green fire in your own eyes.  I’ve been trying to think like a mountain since I first read A Sand County Almanac in college, but I find that when you grind away at life too long, stay in too many hotels, endure too many long drives and time in airports, spend too much time in business-speak meetings, and focus a bit too much on your net income the green fire fades.  I’m finding my way back again.

      Writing every day teaches you things about yourself.  I highly recommend it if you aren’t doing it yet yourself.  I thought I heard the call to write and so I wrote, but until I started publishing something of substance every day I didn’t really understand.  Understand the process of disciplined writing.  Understand the formation of thoughts and quotes and observations and molding it into your own creation that you nurture and place gently into the world, whether it’s perfect yet or not.  Blogging isn’t writing a novel, with an editor and time to get just the right phrasing down.  You ship every day no matter what.  No expectations of glory or financial gain or viral explosions of followers, but because it matters to you that its out there.  And its transformative: You’d rarely hear me sorting things out in casual conversation the way I write about it in this blog.  I wrote yesterday about taking on too much and working to simplify things.  That’s my own version of trimming the herd to fit the range.  I just happened to publish it for all to see.

      Aldo Leopold died a week after hearing that A Sand County Almanac was going to be published.  He was only 61 at the time, and had no idea how much his book would resonate and influence generations of people.  He simply created it and gave it to the world, perhaps hopeful it would gain an audience.  He would have been amazed at how transformative his work was for the environment and for those who fight for it. Teaching generations how to think like a mountain.  It’s his enduring gift to the world.  We never really know what can happen if we just put ourselves out there, do we?

       

    • Keep it Simple

      I quietly shelved plans to hike yesterday. Thunderstorms in the forecast, friends coming over, yard work to do… you know: excuses.  Instead I did projects and regretted not getting out there and hiking.  Lesson learned.  But the bulkhead looks better than it ever has with a fresh coat of paint and the lawn has been cut and treated to prevent grubs, which are the offspring of the Japanese Beetle, an invasive species that can ruin the garden and the lawn alike.  The plan was for the soaking rains forecast for the day to soak in the chemicals, but the rain never came in Southern New Hampshire, instead tracking north and south of us.  The drought continues.  Progress on the hiking paused.  Seeing pictures of my cousin hiking one of the 4000 footers and describing the perfect conditions completed the thoughts on what might have been.  But hey, the bulkhead looks nice.

      I admire the people who just say no:  Thanks for inviting me to go to the party, but nope, I’m going mountain biking instead.  Thanks for the generous offer to join your company, but no, I’ll stick with what I’m doing now.  I’d love to participate in that Teams meeting you’ve organized, but I’m using that time to develop a strategy for growing this other business.  Focus on the specific and elimination of the unnecessary go hand-in-hand.  My mind tends to add more stuff.  More books to read, more projects to finish, more people to see, more commitments to honor.  More excuses for not doing the things that I wanted to prioritize.  The answer is simplicity.  Elimination of the extraneous.  Essentialism, as Greg McKeown would call it.  I’ve read that book and a few others on this idea of boiling life down to the most important things.  It seems I’m highly resistant to adopting this concept.  Exhibit A: Attempting to add recertification in scuba diving to my list.  Exhibit B: Downloading War and Peace to add to the virtual pile of books to tackle, even as the other 100 titles whisper WTF? to each other…  if books could whisper anyway.  Exhibit C: Adding Portuguese to my list of languages on Duolingo even as I just barely skim the surface of fluency in French ( I confess I like the challenge of two languages at the same time).  Shall I go on?  No?  Got it.

      I’m quietly scheming to check some boxes in the next month.  Not faraway places boxes – no, that’s not possible just yet.  But pretty substantial boxes nonetheless.  Meaningful, if only to me.  So, the experts tell me, in order to complete a few of those tasks I need to get better at saying no to other tasks, and knowing what to prioritize:

      “Essentialists see trade-offs as an inherent part of life, not as an inherently negative part of life. Instead of asking, “What do I have to give up?” they ask, “What do I want to go big on?” – Greg McKeown, Essentialism

      “Don’t be on your deathbed someday, having squandered your one chance at life, full of regret because you pursued little distractions instead of big dreams.” –  Derek Sivers, Anything You Want

      “Doing less is the path of the productive.” – Tim Ferriss, The 4-Hour Workweek

      “We should be choosing what we want to keep, not what we want to get rid of.” – Marie Kondō, The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up

      “Simplicity is so attractive and so profitable that it is strange that so few people lead truly simple lives.” – Leo Tolstoy

      “Being poor is not having too little, it is wanting more.” – Seneca

      So keeping things simple and focusing on the big dreams instead of little distractions seems to be the consensus amongst our panel of experts.  Alas, this remains my achilles heal, the mindset and behavior I work to overcome.  I don’t believe I’m alone in this one, judging from the success of the modern authors on this panel of experts or the timelessness of the older panel members.  You believe adding more is the answer, when really it’s just the opposite.  Lesson heard once again, but not yet mastered.  But we’re all works in progress, aren’t we?

      There are lifetime “go big” dreams and short-term priorities.  They should ultimately be pulling you in the same general direction.  Want to be a healthy and vibrant centurion?  Hiking, stress elimination and keeping the mind sharp through reading, travel and language learning seem to be a good path.  Want to complete that bucket list of places to go before you go?  Spend less time and money on stuff that doesn’t matter as much and book the trip already.  Vienna waits for you.  Want to write that book?  Write every day and experience more so you have a full well of ideas to tap into.  Want to have a healthy, lifetime marriage?  Choose every day to nurture it and keep it alive:   Hug more than you bicker, listen more than you talk, sprinkle quiet magic into the minutes as they add up to a lifetime.  In short, keeping it simple gives you a full enough bucket to accomplish the things that really matter, and maybe to reach your potential.  At the very least you’ll live a more interesting and less stressful life.