Alexandersmap

    Blog

    • Five Favorite “Break-Up” Songs

      Thankfully, I’m in a stable, happy relationship and have been for almost 25 years, but I still enjoy a great breakup song now and then.  So with that in mind, here are five that have resonated for me over the years.  There are so many break-up songs of course, because we all go through it eventually, but since I’m limiting myself to five, I’m omitting some classics….  but so be it.  These five have meant something to me along the way.  And the lyrics still grab me by the throat now and then.  Enjoy – or if you prefer, cry in your beer, and remember that this too shall pass!

      Black, by Pearl Jam

      This one got me at the right time and has never let go.  This live version from MTV Unplugged remains – in my opinion – the greatest version of the song ever sung.  My gosh they were young then, and so was I…

      “I know someday you’ll have a beautiful life
      I know you’ll be a star in somebody else’s sky, but why
      Why, why can’t it be, oh can’t it be mine?”

      All I Want, Toad the Wet Sprocket

      This song was big at a time when these lyrics meant something to me.  The air spoke, and I was the better for it.

      “And it won’t matter now
      Whatever happens will be
      Though the air speaks of all we’ll never be
      It won’t trouble me”

      If You Could Read My Mind, Gordon Lightfoot

      Gordon’s best song, which is saying something.  This one is tragic relationship magic.

      “And if you read between the lines
      You’ll know that I’m just tryin’ to understand
      The feelings that you lack
      I never thought I could feel this way
      And I’ve got to say that I just don’t get it
      I don’t know where we went wrong
      But the feeling’s gone and I just can’t get it back”

      Rolling in the Deep, Adele

      Classic sound, great lyrics.  I love the attitude in this song; yeah you screwed up, and it’s gonna hurt you a lot more than it hurt me.

      “The scars of your love remind me of us
      They keep me thinkin’ that we almost had it all
      The scars of your love, they leave me breathless
      I can’t help feeling
      We could have had it all”

      I Will Survive, Gloria Gaynor (Cake has an incredible version of this song too)

      Two versions of this song, and I love them both.  If Gaynor’s version is an anthem for women screwed over by men the world over, the Cake version turns the tables, and offers the jilted men of the world an anthem of their own.  We’ve all been on both sides of this coin, haven’t we?  This song, like Rolling in the Deep, is saying you may have punched me in the gut, but screw you I’m moving on.

      “Go on now, go, walk out the door
      Just turn around now, ’cause you’re not welcome anymore
      Weren’t you the one who tried to break me with goodbye?
      Did you think I’d crumble? Did you think I’d lay down and die?”

       

    • The Great Repertoire

      I’ve reached a point in my life where I don’t depend on the people in my life for happiness, I’m quite happy whether I’m with my family, spouse, best friend or favorite pet or alone.  Don’t misunderstand:  All of the dancers on the floor with me certainly enhance my life and my happiness in profound ways.  But if experience and a whole lot of business traveling alone has taught me anything, it’s that I don’t require others to be happy.  Does that diminish the value of the people in my life? On the contrary, I believe it highlights that they’re in my life for all the right reasons.  So in reading this magnificent book Awareness, I was jolted by the following:

      “What I really enjoy is not you; it’s something that’s greater than both you and me. It is something that I discovered, a kind of symphony, a kind of orchestra that plays one melody in your presence, but when you depart, the orchestra doesn’t stop. When I meet someone else, it plays another melody, which is also very delightful. And when I’m alone, it continues to play. There’s a great repertoire and it never ceases to play.” – Anthony De Mello, Awareness

      I downloaded the Kindle version of this book after hearing it referenced by both Tim Ferriss and Ryan Holiday in a podcast interview and in a book, respectively.  I read a lot, and have a lot of books to get through sitting in limbo, but sometimes the neon sign points to one you should read first, and this was it.  De Mello passed away in 1987, and this book was published posthumously in 1990, building a passionate following ever since.  I’m taking my time reading it, not because it’s tough to read, but because there’s a lot to chew on.  It’s a lovely and profoundly compelling book, and well worth reading.

      This week I’ll see a lot of family I don’t see enough, while next week I’ll be traveling alone in New York and will only see business acquaintances.  Will I be more happy this week than next?  I don’t think so.  But will I enjoy this week more than next?  That’s highly likely.  This all sounds a bit narcissistic to me, but good God I’m really just not that into myself.  Instead I’m trying to be outside looking in objectively. De Mello shakes away any illusions of grandeur anyway:

      “Have you ever experienced your is-not-ness? In the East we have an image for this. It is the image of the dancer and the dance. God is viewed as the dancer and creation as God’s dance. It isn’t as if God is the big dancer and you are the little dancer. Oh no. You’re not a dancer at all. You are being danced!”

      So there’s a little humility for you as we dance (sorry) with the concept of non-dependent happiness. History and travel are actually easier to write about. They seem less… self-indulgent. Whatever: Make the most of the day at hand, wherever you are and whomever you’re with. Dance with life a bit, otherwise what’s a life for?

    • Spending Time

      Saturday I left the house mid-morning to catch our son’s college basketball game with a quick dinner afterwards, dropped the in-laws off and got home eight hours after I left. We casually spend time like this without a thought, for it’s the essence of life. Time spent on a worthwhile investment. At least to me.

      I once worked for a man who blocked time as A, B or C time. “A” time was normal business hours, say 8 to 5 PM, when you’d hustle like everyone else. “B” time was before 8 AM and after 5 PM, when you’d catch opportunities at the edges. “C” time, to him, was where you would become “successful”. It was the weekends and late weeknight time that normal, balanced people spent time with their families, or exercising, going to church or engaging in meaningful, non-work activity. For him “C” time was when you leapt past your competition and did the extra work needed to win. He fired me when I chose to go on a family vacation instead of working. He was summarily dismissed several months later when the rest of the world realized they despised him. I feel a little sorry for him.

      Which of us was wrong in how we choose to spend our time? It depends on what you prioritize in your own life. I don’t prioritize my career over my family, but do the best I can with the time I spend in it. I’ve had a decent career despite my egregious use of B and C time. Go figure. I rarely think about the guy I worked for anymore, but he taught me an important lesson at a crossroads in my career ten years ago: Life is too short to work for assholes.

      Last night as I was evaluating my time spent during the day, I thought to myself that half the weekend was gone and what had I really accomplished? My answer; I’d spent my time well, in the company of people I wanted to be with. A worthwhile investment of precious time. Will my choice enable me to squash my competition? Get promoted? Make more money? Ultimately I’m richer for having spent the time of other pursuits. I’ve learned not to focus on what other people do with their time, even when I don’t understand it. Sometimes this actually works.

      As we approach Thanksgiving in the United States, it once again presents an opportunity to spend precious time. Four-day weekends in this country are rare indeed. So with this much time, how to spend it? Use the time for a trip to a faraway place? Use it for chasing sales at stores desperate to separate you from your money? Binge watch a Netflix series? Sequester yourself away from others in your happy place? Or maybe spend that time with people you don’t see enough? I know what I’ve chosen, and anticipate a wonderful time.

    • The Joyful Pursuit of Fish and Chips

      How did I get on this track? Surely I’d have been better off looking for the best kale salad? But I’m in search of the best fried food. I know where it started. I blame Halifax. I’ve had exceptional fish & chips, and I keep chasing it in restaurants around the northern Atlantic Ocean trying to find the best in an evasive, sometimes frustrating mission.

      The very best I’ve ever had was a lunch special at The Five Fishermen Restaurant in Halifax. It was super fresh with a crisp, light batter and chips seasoned just right, all presented beautifully on a modest plating. It was an epiphany, and I haven’t had a better one yet in Canada, New England, New York, London or Scotland. Are there equal or better fish & chips in those places? Probably, but I haven’t found it yet.

      Now to be fair, The Five Fisherman is a fine dining experience with a menu to be savored, and I was the right audience for that dish. Pubs and most restaurants that serve fish & chips aren’t focused on the delivery of a world class dish, they’re simply feeding the masses. So I don’t bash the places that don’t do it well, I just don’t mention them at all. I’ve had truly awful fish and chips only once, in the shadow of the London Eye, at a tourist trap. Soggy, greasy and full of bones. I had one bit and threw away the rest. Shameful waste of food, and a fish that died in vain. I had no business ordering anything in that place so the fault lies squarely with me.

      But as you might expect, that was the exception in London. The city has some excellent fish & chips places in every corner. Pub food bliss with large servings of fish overflowing the dish, mounted on a healthy pile of chips (“next to” is the preferred serving, thank you). The only thing stopping me from ordering it everywhere was a natural desire to eat a bit of everything, but I give a respectful nod to the UK for the consistently great fish & chips. Shame my last experience having it there before leaving was that tourist trap place. Circumstances being what they were it was what it was…

      As I’ve hinted, the best fish & chips offers fresh, flaky white fish (Cod, please) in a light, crispy batter, served with a reasonable pile of crisp fried potatoes sliced just right. A side of fresh coleslaw is welcome. Tartar sauce, lemon and ketchup should be strictly optional, not required to get through your meal. When I see a piece of fish presented with a slice of lemon already sitting on the fish I think “not fresh fish”, and when the fish is thrown on top of the chips I think, “soggy chips”. Yes, it’s a basic, working-class dish, but presentation still matters.

      I’ve written close to 500 words on the modest topic of fish & chips. Candidly, I could go on much longer on the topic. Ultimately, my search continues for a better fish & chips dish. Like any experience, once you’ve had something truly exceptional most things afterwards won’t measure up. But there’s joy in the pursuit.

    • Self-Steering and Control

      I’ve been trying to get an answer from a customer for a week. Business marches on, but he’s been impossible to connect with. And I’ve grown frustrated by his lack of responsiveness. And then I realized it’s hunting season and he’s almost certainly out in the woods somewhere and completely disconnected from the world. My frustration melted away to acceptance of the reality of the situation. There’s some things you simply can’t control in this world. The time to communicate was before hunting season.

      “What you are aware of you are in control of; what you are not aware of is in control of you.” – Anthony De Bello

      I drove back from the train station and had two choices as I pulled out of the garage; turn one way and go around the city, or turn the other way and go through the city. I opted to go around the city. In normal circumstances the drive would be equidistant, but the city offers more opportunities for delays, even at 10 PM. It turns out I chose the wrong way and sat in standstill traffic as four lanes shrunk down to two. If I’d turned on Waze prior to leaving the station I’d have been aware of the state of the roads and might have chosen the city route. The tools were there to inform, and I chose to proceed unaware anyway. It was on me, so instead of getting angry about it I turned up the music and waited it out with everyone else.

      I had dinner in Manhattan with a man who’s grandparents had been at Auschwitz and survived. I’ve been thinking about the fate of the Polish Jews since visiting a museum in London. They were caught in the trap of history, with limited control over their situation once the Germans and Russians made their first moves. There are forces bigger than us that control our lives, and no matter how good a person you are, how much you eat the right foods or how big your nest egg is you get swept aside by these forces like an anthill being kicked in the playground. That’s fate, and largely out of our control.

      My good friends on Fayaway have left their safe harbor in Bermuda bound for Antigua. Unlike my trip home from the train station they’ve diligently tracked weather variables, added a redundant self-steering system and re-stocked critical supplies for the long journey. They’re aware of the risks on the open ocean and have prepared accordingly. Larger forces may sweep you up in unforeseen circumstances anyway, but you control what you can and mitigate risk.

      De Mello’s quote was directed at our own self-awareness of how we react to things, who we instinctively like or don’t like and how that plays on how we interact with them, and how we might change that interaction with better awareness. It’s no secret the world has become more antagonistic and divided. But there are plenty of examples of people doing the right thing, treating others with kindness and respect, self-aware and in control of their emotions. Being in control requires a level of diligence in our self-awareness akin to preparing for a long voyage in a small boat on a big ocean. Larger forces will do what they will, but we can mitigate their impact on our lives. It’s the self-steering that ultimately means more in most circumstances.

    • What’s in a Name?

      Within an hour yesterday I experienced two moments that are familiar to most of us. The first occurred when I said hello to a man I worked with in a previous company several years ago. I saw his face light up in recognition, a quick hello and a betraying glance down to my name tag for help. Reassured we carried on with our conversation and moved on to others. An hour later turnaround; an industry acquaintance from years ago said my name with a big smile, shook my hand and it was my turn to betray a glance to his name tag. These two moments occurred a couple of times over during the day. Such is life at a trade show.

      You know many people at a trade show when you’ve spent any time in an industry. Faces are familiar, names are sometimes elusive. A trade show is a sensory explosion of people and product, sights and sounds, quick meals and long, slow expensive meals. Grasping for a name is understandable given the distractions, but it always bothers me when I’m at a disadvantage. Saying someone’s name is a sign of respect, and I don’t want to slight an old acquaintance, even if the acquaintance was brief and long ago.

      Names are part of our identities, and I make the effort to learn a bit about the people I’m doing business with and stay in touch afterwards. But jobs and roles change, time marches on and years later you’re facing that person once again after just looking up from another conversation and… blank. And so we begin again.

    • We’re All Wealthy Today

      James Clear has become my favorite resource, from his book Atomic Habits to his weekly newsletter to his Twitter account. Today he posted this gem, which I share if only to always remind myself of this. We all enjoy immense wealth today. Make the most of it:

      “You are richer than 93% of people.

      Not in money, but in time.

      108 billion people have lived throughout history. 93% of them are dead.

      You have what every king and queen, every pharaoh and ruler, every CEO and celebrity of the past would give all their wealth for:

      Today.”

      Amen.

    • I’ll Take the Train, Thank You

      There are many ways to get from Boston to New York City. Driving or taking a bus are viable options that offer advantages in flexibility and economy. Flying used to be the fastest way until security requirements stretched the time commitment to be roughly the same as driving. And then there’s the train, the oldest and still the best option when you’re going from downtown Boston to the heart of Manhattan. And that’s where I find myself this morning, rolling down the tracks looking at the changing landscape of Rhode Island and Connecticut, phone charging, wi-fi and Bluetooth on, coffee at the ready.

      I’ve recently taken the train from London to Liverpool and back, and a sleeper train from London to Edinburgh and back, so the comparison is still fresh in my mind. Amtrak is more expensive and slower than that Virgin train to Liverpool. The infrastructure and number of stops simply don’t allow for long runs at high speed. The difference between the Acela and the regional train is only 30 minutes. If you can tolerate the multiple stops it makes a lot of sense to just take the regional. And really, who cares? I’m sipping coffee, writing and listening to music while someone else does the work. And I didn’t have to wait in a TSA line or take my shoes off for the honor of sitting in this seat. Dog sniffing my bags? Any time you want.

      I’ve driven to New York countless times. It’s a miserable experience unless you manage to time the traffic. Humans aren’t at their best in stop and go traffic, and the 5 minute delay I hit at 5 AM this morning driving to the train station was a good reminder of the horror show that is I-95 through Connecticut. Why subject yourself to that when you don’t have to? And when you finally get to Manhattan mentally spent, you get to spend a fortune to park your car. Then do it all over again going back home. I’ll take the train, thank you.

    • The Fruitful Kernels of Time

      “The truly efficient laborer will not crowd his day with work, but will saunter to his task surrounded by a wide halo of ease and leisure, and then do but what he loved best.  He is anxious only about the fruitful kernels of time…  Some hours seem not to be occasion for any deed, but for resolves to draw breath in.  We do not directly go about the execution of the purpose that thrills us, but shut our doors behind us and ramble with prepared mind, as if the half were already done.  Our resolution is taking root or hold on the earth then, as seeds first send a shoot downward which is fed by their own albumen, ere they send one upward to the light.”  – Henry David Thoreau, A Week on the Concord and Merrimack Rivers

      Sometimes I’ll pick up any old Thoreau book and flip to a random page to see what he has to offer.  Thoreau offers a lot. Often he’ll casually flip a healthy dose of wisdom across time, and I’m the better for having found it. I’m in a post-vacation/pre-holidays work funk where I haven’t quite found my stride again (Some hours seem not to be occasion for any deed), and Thoreau’s analogy of the seed setting its root resonates for me. I don’t seem to have this funk with writing, but with my career it’s been a struggle. These are not days to work from home. To find your stride again you need to move, and I’ve booked meetings in faraway places to do just that.

      Writing seems immune to the funk, but the reality is that the fuel for writing is the distraction in my career. Solitude, travel, reading and long walks inspire writing but not sales. Business meetings, commuting, grinding out proposals and crafting concise emails suck the life out of writing but fill the sales pipeline and ultimately keep the lights on. Knowing this, I work to balance the two appropriately. My job isn’t going to offer immortality but it feeds the family. Allocate time accordingly, and write in the quiet corners of the day.

      “Perfect freedom is reserved for the man who lives by his own work and in that work does what he wants to do.” – R.G. Collingwood

      The reality is that most of us aren’t living in perfect freedom. We live in chains of our own creation. Does that have a negative connotation? Only if you view it that way. For me I happen to enjoy feeding the family, and the grind of the job offers its own rewards too. The writing is transformative, and I regret the years of neglect, but shake myself free of that trap when I recognize it. We’ve only today, and so I produce what I can in this moment, bit-by-bit, like the seed taking root before reaching to the light. Will it yield fruit eventually? Every seed believes so.

    • Writing with Purpose

      “I believe that God made me for a purpose. For China. But He also made me fast. And when I run, I feel His pleasure. To give it up would be to hold Him in contempt… To win is to honor Him.” – Eric Liddell, Chariots of Fire

      I re-watched Chariots of Fire tonight with the perspective of having recently been in Edinburgh and London, and in immersing myself in the horror of World Wars I & II in reading, visits to museums and the epic long-form Hardcore History podcast on the First World War. It’s an entirely different movie when you watch it through the lens of history and the accumulation of life experience. But then again, the same can be said of life. Too many people ignore the lessons of history, and we all suffer as a result.

      Eric Liddell died in a Japanese internment camp in 1945. He’d dedicated (and sacrificed) his life to his missionary work in China. But he’ll always be remembered as an Olympian who chose not to run in a qualifying heat on the Sabbath, who would go on to win the 400 meter sprint and solidify his place in history. You can make a strong case that his Olympic medal was secondary to the rest of his life’s work.

      I have no idea if Liddell ever uttered the quote above. But I do know it fits what I know of the man, and I can imagine him saying it. I’m not particularly religious, but the quote resonates for me. We are created by some miracle of God or infinitesimally random luck, completely unique from the 100 billion other people who have ever lived. I’m no Olympic runner, but I have some talents that I work to bring out. Writing seems to be one… if a work in progress. To give it up would be to hold Him (and myself) in contempt… So why not embrace whatever magic makes you who you are?