Alexandersmap

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    • Adding More

      “If it doesn’t challenge you, it won’t change you.” — Fred Devito

      These are challenging times, to be sure, but there’s opportunity on the other side of those challenges. We may either face them and continue to grow or cower at the sight of them and shrink back into what might have been. We are what we put into our days, and really nothing more than that but a bit of dumb luck and random chance. Luck and chance will only take us so far—I like the odds of growing into our potential instead.

      Challenges can be thrust upon us, like losing a job or getting a diagnosis we weren’t expecting, or it can be incremental, like increasing the intensity of a workout each time we do it. Each challenge offers an opportunity for the mind and body. Is this my limit, or can I go further? We have a choice in how to react, as Viktor Frankl pointed out, to any challenge. The freedom of that choice is profoundly ours alone.

      We can choose to add more challenge to our days, with a goal of growth and change. Adding more changes us profoundly: Reading and writing more, more intense workouts, more challenging work, more focused conversations with people of consequence. The word infers increase; let that increase bring us in the direction in which we want to go.

      Remember the old expression, pay me now or pay me later? There’s a price to be paid either way, but whether good or bad those choices compound over time. There will come a time for less. Today is not that day. There’s just so much to do in a lifetime and we only have now to work with. We may choose to accept the challenges as they come at us. Let this serve as a cattle prod to complacency. Decide what to be and go be it.

    • Living Towards

      “People think being alone makes you lonely, but I don’t think that’s true. Being surrounded by the wrong people is the loneliest thing in the world.”
      ― Kim Culbertson, The Liberation of Max McTrue

      I live in a small town with no traffic lights in New Hampshire that snugs up against Massachusetts. I’ve been here for three decades now and for the life of me I know I’ll never feel like a local despite knowing many of them, watching our children grow up together and watching some of those children begin to have children. How can one spend more than half their years in a town and still feel they’re an outsider?

      I’ve been plotting my escape from this town for years, but then I keep running into people with a shared history and find the conversation pleasant. I stood out in the semi-frozen front yard raking up acorns and wore out my arm waving to neighbors driving past on their way back from Sunday activities. I recognize the patterns of the season in this town, from how the stars align against the hillsides to where the deer go to hide from all the hunters. There’s a rhythm to familiarity that we may wear like a warm coat.

      Life is what we make of it. Where we live, what we do for work, and how much time we spend with people who don’t see the world the way we do is often up to us. We are the light in someone’s day when we encounter them, or we’re a reminder to them that they’ve got to get out of this place. The world largely reflects back what we project out to it. The last few years I’ve projected that I’d rather be somewhere else than this small town. Who can blame the town for feeling the same about me?

      The thing is, we ought to be building our lives towards something, not recoiling from something. It’s a subtle difference, but the latter has us on our heels, the former has us charging ahead. One is regression, one is progression. Don’t we all want to feel like we’re making progress in our lives? When the world seems to be shrinking from us, it’s usually a reflection of our own stance with it. We must lean into our future, wherever we want it to take us. Just be sure to give a wave and a smile to the neighbors, they look like they’re going through some things too.

    • Get Up and Live

      Get up, now
      Place your feet on solid ground
      Get up now
      Friends come and go, who’s got you now?
      Those obstacles ahead
      They don’t disappear if you stay trapped inside your head
      So get on out and face yourself
      Get up now
      And live
      Live for you, baby
      You’ve gotta live for yourself
      — Thee Sacred Souls, Live For You

      I dropped my daughter at the airport for her cross-country flight this morning. You learn quickly that most people never drive to the airport and don’t know what to do when they get there. There’s a metaphor there for living in general, as most people seem a bit lost and confused, not really sure of where they’re going and afraid to make a decision they’ll regret later. And so it is that everything slows to a crawl. The only answer is to let it all unfold and put yourself in a lane that mitigates risk. Success will come to most of us if we’re patient enough and consistently do the right things. And a bit of generosity with our fellow humans goes a long way.

      The most powerful change comes from within. We simply decide what to be and go be it. We may say those words for years before that, telling ourselves to change, but they’re just words until we get up and take consistent action. Habits are our lead measure for the life we’re creating for ourselves. The results may vary and surely take too long to arrive sometimes, but it all begins with what we’re going to do right now.

      Too abrupt? Life comes at us in this way. We can slow down or even hide in the corner, but it’s all going to wash over us one way or the other. We ought to have agency in our lives, yet so many concede it to others. And meanwhile our time flies away forever. The only way to capture time is to invest it in things that improve our future. We’ve got to live for ourselves. Now! Get up and live. Add a great soundtrack to brighten the day while doing the work.

    • The Bold Step

      “If you think adventure is dangerous, try routine; It is lethal.” — Paulo Coelho

      Comfort is a quiet killer. It stalks us every day, pulling us from our pursuits with its promises. Comfort means well for us, and so we trust in it. And then it steals our life away.

      We must choose adventure when it calls to us. Take the risks that inspire but make us feel a little nervous inside. Inaction is the real risk. More of the same may feel prudent, but where is it taking us?

      A full life demands boldness. Boldness in turn is a step away from the routine. It won’t call for us forever. Sooner or later it will think us like all the rest and move on to another dance partner. When we change the routine in our lives, we change our life. So shake things up. Take the bold step.

    • The Shape of Stories

      “You should write because you love the shape of stories and sentences and the creation of different words on a page. Writing comes from reading, and reading is the finest teacher of how to write.” ― Annie Proulx

      Finding stories is relatively easy when we’re paying attention to the world around us. I could write a week’s worth of blog posts based on my experiences of just the last 24 hours. That’s a 7:1 ratio for those keeping score, which infers that an active and engaged mind has infinite possibilities to create something. That doesn’t make the story interesting or easy to read, for there’s work to do beyond the first telling of a story, but it’s a great starting point.

      Here’s a story: I confronted two small disasters in my world since the last blog post dropped yesterday morning. In both cases life lessons were learned and we lived to see another sunrise. Shall I end the story there or flesh it out with more detail? A story must have structure and purpose and most of all enough interesting detail to pull a reader in. Having failed thus far at the basics, allow me to continue…

      We have one of those double ovens, top and bottom, that allow us to bake something in each independent of the other. For several years now this has worked out quite well for us. Yesterday, Thanksgiving, I turned on the oven and tucked the turkey in to roast. I inadvertently heated up the wrong oven, and our turkey sat for almost three hours in a room temperature oven before I discovered the mistake. Timing is everything with Thanksgiving and this had the makings of a disaster. After a few moments of despair, we did the only thing one can do in such moments and creatively solved the problem. Our oven has a convection bake function that greatly speeds up the cooking process. We’d never used it on something as big as a turkey but it saved the day yesterday. Crisis averted.

      Now I could have fleshed out that story with some juicy bits of dialogue between my bride and me, with her saving the day with the convection suggestion, but that’s the stuff of second or third drafts. In a proper telling of the story I would be the one stumbling, and my bride would be the hero that saved the day (she’s been saving my days for years). In my first draft, we just covered the basics and moved on to other things. In this case, there’s that second small disaster I teased earlier. Shall we continue?

      This morning I walked down the stairs in the dark, feeling my way along as I always do with a hand on the railing and years of muscle memory carrying me along. As I reached the bottom, my hand felt the dogs face greet me in the dark. “That’s not like her,” I thought to myself as I whispered a quiet good morning. I reached the kitchen, flipped the light switch and discovered something out of a murder scene. Spatters of intestinal distress all over the kitchen, literally everywhere a dog could, uh, go. “Oh no,” I muttered to myself as a reconciled myself to this new reality. But then I thought to myself, “Well, I was going to mop the floor this morning anyway.” and moved on to the next. The only thing to do in such moments is to tell the pup everything would be okay, bring her outside, grab the paper towels and begin cleanup in aisle 12.

      Again, first draft, could be fleshed out and made to sparkle with spine-tingling detail. Perhaps remove the intestinal distress part and make it a truly grisly encounter and we have the makings of a real page-turner. Stories are what we shape them into. The underlying message in both is that there’s always a solution to a problem, beginning with the decision to persevere. And from there the hero’s journey may ensue.

      So was this a memorable blog post? It can always be better but we must ship our work every day. And yet good is the enemy of great. What’s a writer to do but their best in the time they have? Only you the reader can decide whether this post was worthy of your precious time. Still, it was a memorable day since last we met. One can only hope to do their disasters justice in the storytelling.

    • Tradition (Happy Thanksgiving)

      “Tradition is the illusion of permanence.” — Woody Allen

      The fact that we’ve always done something a certain way doesn’t mean that thing ought to be done that way forever. Tradition is merely a form of habit, ritualized and accepted as the way. But life is change, and tradition is thus always in a fragile state. We all crave some measure of permanence and familiarity in a world that guarantees nothing. And so it takes people deliberately choosing to do something the same way again and again that makes a tradition stick. For Americans, the ultimate expression of tradition is Thanksgiving.

      For more than half my life I’ve been getting up early and prepping a bird for a mid-afternoon meal with family and friends. It’s a lovely tradition, but admittedly unusual. I mean, it’s right in the middle of the work week, we’re all spread out across the country now, and the whole thing is just so expensive in time and effort. And we love it so because we’re all together again, for no other reason than that we choose to be. And that’s cause for celebration.

      We know (or we must know) that time flies (tempus fugit) and we’re all quite fragile (memento mori), and any one of these Thanksgivings may be the last for us. The whole holiday is an acknowledgement that we made it to here, today, and mostly together despite all that is happening in the world, and we ought to celebrate our arrival here today with a traditional meal altered slightly for dietary considerations. Yes, life is change, and we are surely changed by this complicated business of living, but today we still have this wonderful tradition and each other. Happy Thanksgiving.

    • Now on Bluesky

      Honestly, I long for the days when choosing a social media platform wasn’t a declaration of one’s political views. But here we are, and it feels like we’ll be here for some time. I quit that other platform just after the purchase and while it was still called something else. I’ve tried Mastodon and Threads in the time since, with mixed results, and now I’m trying Bluesky. To me it’s simply a place for someone to find my blog without the “obligation” of subscribing (I haven’t exactly made that easy either, but it should be cleaner now). So if you’re trying Bluesky and want to follow me there, you can find me at @nhcarmichael.bsky.social

    • By Whatever Name

      Every day I’m still looking for God
      and I’m still finding him everywhere,
      in the dust, in the flowerbeds.
      Certainly in the oceans,
      in the islands that lay in the distance
      continents of ice, countries of sand
      each with its own set of creatures
      and God, by whatever name.
      How perfect to be aboard a ship with
      maybe a hundred years still in my pocket.
      But it’s late, for all of us,
      and in truth the only ship there is
      is the ship we are all on
      burning the world as we go.
      — Mary Oliver, On Traveling to Beautiful Places

      It’s late for all us. We can see this when we pay attention to such things. We can see the world burning as we go, we see the games of distraction that keep the masses occupied while the power brokers pad their pockets, and apparently we can’t do all that much about it. As I’ve said before, all we can really do is build resiliency and beauty into our own lives. But maybe we can do a little more. Maybe we can help others, lost in the darkness, find their way to beauty too.

      To be aboard a ship with maybe a hundred years still in my pocket… Ah the places we’d go! We’ve only got this one go at things, and it’s late for all of us. Where shall we go today? The more I see, the more I come back to where I started. Our life’s work is ourselves, and as Michelangelo put it, seeing the angel in the marble and carving until we set him free. Yes, it’s getting late for all of us, but we may still keep carving to release the angels.

      I’m not particularly religious (when you see the power brokers for who they are you see them everywhere), but there’s an undercurrent of spirituality running through me that is best expressed in empathy and reverence. Perhaps you feel that too. What’s beautiful in this world is realizing the connection. We’re all in the same boat, spinning through the universe, infinitesimal yet infinite all at once. Isn’t that miraculous?

    • Saunter to the Craft

      “The really efficient laborer will be found not to crowd his day with work, but will saunter to his task surrounded by a wide halo of ease and leisure. There will be a wide margin for relaxation to his day. He is only earnest to secure the kernels of time, and does not exaggerate the value of the husk. Why should the hen set all day? She can lay but one egg, and besides she will not have picked up materials for a new one. Those who work much do not work hard.”
      — Henry David Thoreau, The Journal of Henry David Thoreau 1837 – 1861

      Thoreau was a famous saunterer, but he was also a prolific writer. Leisure, mediation, exercise and hard work all have their time. We know when we’ve reached balance and when we’ve stumbled off the line between chaos and order.

      It’s not just work, it’s inspired work that is the ultimate goal for all of us, and it’s out there waiting for us to grab hold of it and take it as far as we can. It’s just hidden amongst all the other tedious, uninspired labor that passes for work. We owe it to ourselves to do work that carries us towards personal excellence, whatever that is for us. Any work that isn’t bringing us somewhere is dragging us sideways down the cliff. We ought to choose our work accordingly.

      Efficiency is the trick. When we focus on the essential work in its time, not only do we get so much more done—it’s done so much better. Take writing for example; I can either turn off the world and write this blog post within this hour, or I can succumb to the distraction of the text messages buzzing me, wonder about the weather today, get up to feed the cats, check the news and watch some video on social media curated especially for me based on previous views. The hour will slip away in any case, but what will we show for it?

      The thing is, most of us love a job well done. We want to bring something meaningful to the world for our efforts, and not look back on the day like we laid an egg. In order to reach our potential, a bit of focused productivity goes a long way. Go ahead and saunter, but when we meet our task we must do it wholeheartedly, that we may rise to our potential. That isn’t tedium, it’s craftsmanship, and isn’t that a far more interesting expression of our time?

    • Leave No Crevice

      “To fill the hour,—that is happiness; to fill the hour, and leave no crevice for a repentance or an approval.” ― Ralph Waldo Emerson, Essays: First and Second Series

      Here’s a deep dive: What is important to us? Of those important things, what is essential? And of those essential things, what’s the one thing that we want to leave as our legacy, that others may remember of us until they too pass? This is our driving mission, above all the rest, that we must deliberately fill our hours with lest they be lost to the whims of the universe.

      Writing is essential for me, but it hasn’t yet crossed into a driving mission. If it had I’d be a lot more jealous of my time with it. I’ve made writing a habit in a busy life, and I’m happy its stayed with me. In fact I demand that it stays with me by starting every day with it. Habit formation takes time, but habits die from neglect. I know my tendencies (when was the last hiking entry in this blog?) and if I’m not doing this every day I’m doing something else instead.

      It’s those something else’s that make the days feel so busy but unproductive. We get wrapped around the pole with so much clutter and mayhem, and feel obliged to pay attention to each thing that bounces into our path. I have people in my life who would happily watch pop-up videos one after the other on their phones than put it aside and engage with the world. I don’t want that for myself, thank you. I simply want to feel like each day wasn’t wasted on trivial pursuits, for we’ll never get it back.

      Emerson didn’t have to deal with dog videos popping up in his social media feed, but he surely had distractions that pulled at him. The monkey mind is timeless, we just have more tools at our disposal now to suck our vitality away. Focus isn’t what we do in a lifetime, or a year or even a day. It’s what we do with this hour and nothing more. That’s the root of productivity. Stack enough productive hours together and we’re really on to something. The rest of our hours will sort themselves out in time—what shall we do with this one?