Alexandersmap

    Blog

    • Opening Doors

      “One language sets you in a corridor for life. Two languages open every door along the way.”
      —Frank Smith, To Think: In Language, Learning and Education

      I’ve been skimming along with multiple languages for years now. Visit a country, try to learn some of the language. Visit another country, do it again with their native language. The similarities are easy to see when you do this with several languages in this way, we’re all connected after all. The thing about skimming is you pick up just enough to ask for the bathroom at a cafe or say please and thank you, but you aren’t immersing yourself in it long enough to keep up with rapid fire conversation, let alone mastery.

      I recently surpassed 1600 days in a row of learning on Duolingo. It’s a bit of an artificial accolade because there are streak busters that patch up a missing day here and there. Just before that 1600 day mark I missed two days in a row while on business travel and thought the whole thing would reset to zero. But no, it just repaired itself and here I am, a master of French, German, Portuguese and Italian (the languages I’ve been learning off and on during that streak). Which is nonsense, because dabbling in an app makes you a master of nothing but casual productivity.

      Still, there’s something about meeting someone halfway by learning their native language just enough to maintain a slow roll through a pleasant conversation. They almost certainly know some of my native language, but my speaking theirs informs them that I have some measure of respect for their identity that I’m willing to step out of my comfort zone and give it a go. Opening doors to new experiences begins with a bit of discomfort about what we’ll find when we step through. But I have yet to have it slammed in my face.

      My nephew teaches Spanish, and goes to Spain every summer to guide students on an immersion experience for several weeks. I think immersion is my own next step towards competency in another language. French is the likely candidate since I’ve been most consistent with it, but really any place that would have me sounds like a great candidate to me. Don’t we owe it to ourselves and those we may interact with to step out of the corridor we’ve been settling for and open some doors?

      When we dabble in anything we never develop the calluses earned through grinding it out. An athlete knows when another athlete has put the work in just by looking at them. A native speaker may appreciate us meeting them halfway by attempting a few words in their language, but would delight in a full conversation at natural speed with someone who put the work in to master it. To reach that point is something to aspire to on this road to becoming something more in our brief go with living. Life should be ever expansive as we grow into our potential. Tu ne serais pas d’accord ?

    • The Evasive There

      “The surface of the water is beautiful, but it is no good to sleep on.” — African proverb

      Lately I’ve been assessing next moves. Surely that’s been telegraphed in this blog for long enough now that none of you are floored by that statement. But next moves are tricky things. We don’t just say yes to every opportunity that comes our way, do we? Most opportunities are merely future problems with lipstick on. We ought to look hard before we leap.

      The future always looks beautiful and full of possibility for the optimist, and dark and treacherous for the pessimist. We’ve got to be objective in assessing which direction we’ll go in next to truly see what is in front of us for what it is. Our “there” will always be evasive if we won’t ever take the leap from “here” into the unknown. Then again, leaping is all fine and good so long as we know what we’re landing into. We must choose our leaps with the landing in mind.

      And so it is that most people keep looking for the next thing and never actually leaping into much of anything at all. We can easily find reasons to just keep doing what we’ve done for years, because things are working okay and why change now? It’s rather easy to talk about most people, but when you recognize that you’ve been one of them it’s a tough mirror to look into. And this is where philosophy and poetry and writing assist greatly in the journey from here to that evasive there. We all must sort out who we’re becoming in the most thoughtful and deliberate of ways. Just don’t forget to leap now and then.

    • What Are We Ready For?

      “Conquer yourself rather than the world.” ― René Descartes

      Yesterday wasn’t particularly productive. I mean in some ways it was very productive, but in the trading work for money way it wasn’t a stellar day. Blame it on Wednesday, but really it was my own inclination to do other things that felt more essential in the hour at hand. We ought to follow our gut more than the demands of the world. We know what we must do.

      Looking at it a completely different way, yesterday was very productive. I knocked out a blog post before breakfast, brought my favorite pup to play with her friends, spent a few hours doing some research work that mattered a great deal to me and had a good conversation with my bride after cooking her dinner. I also bought groceries, but hey, I don’t like to brag.

      The thing is, each day we move in the direction we want to go in with our lives is a good day. The ebb and flow of productivity in any particular activity isn’t as essential to our value as simply moving the chains from one hash line to the next. Get through this day largely intact and with some semblance of forward momentum, and survive to fight another day tomorrow. Insane productivity will have its time, or it won’t, but either way it’s telling us something about the direction we’re going with our life.

      Descartes popped up in my media feed this morning, just when I was telling myself roughly the same thing. When the student is ready, the teacher will appear, as the expression goes. We ought to ask ourselves each morning when we face this gift of being alive, what are we ready for?

    • The Hidden Bond

      My memories of him
      are the ones
      of which I am
      most fond.
      And I’m fearful they
      will fade away
      like ripples
      on a pond.
      But then…
      if I’m the pond
      and he’s the stone
      then we share
      a hidden bond.
      For he’s there
      beneath the surface
      if I dare
      to look beyond.
      — Ranata Suzuki, Reflections

      Within each interaction of consequence with another, there is connection hidden in plain sight. We scarcely think of it in the moment, but when we recall the person, the interaction floods back over us in a wave of memory. Life is a series of such interactions, formed with characters in our life play representing long term relationships, the briefest of transactional conversations and those who fall somewhere in between. The key is the bond made in the moment.

      We transcend the physical body through those we leave behind who remember us. How do we scrap together something to fill the void left behind in the absence of those we care deeply for? I think about people who are very much alive but no longer in my life. They remain a part of me even as they fade as the touchstones grounding me to place and time. Those who have passed occupy a similar place in memory, without the possibility of reunion one day. And that’s where we feel the loss—in the absence of future possibility.

      Someday, when I leave this lifetime, perhaps those I leave behind will leave this small poem on the memorial cards given out on such occasions. A reminder that while I may no longer be there I’m very much at the party, buying them a drink and prompting a story about that time when, examples of looking beyond the surface and finding that we’re still there, if only in spirit and those blessed memories. Hidden bonds continue on for as long as those who remember them do. Questions of whether this is our only pond together are meant to be answered beyond this surface.

    • Time Horizons

      “The longer you can extend your time horizon the less competitive the game becomes, because most of the world is engaged over a very short time frame.” — William Browne

      Time horizons are largely an investment concept. It’s the amount of time you leave your money in investments to reach your financial goal. I’m no financial wizard, but I’m smart enough to put my own investment money into places where it can work best for me and I leave it the hell alone for long periods of time. And to double down on that exponential growth, choosing the right life partner who compliments one’s own contribution offers the best long term investment potential I can imagine. The sum is clearly greater than the individual parts.

      In a world full of people looking for the quick win, the easy hack, the secret shortcut to success, those who instead choose consistent daily effort applied to habits and routines that will pay dividends over time often come out way ahead. Simply put, showing up every day and doing the things that must be done to stay on course towards our goals is the only true secret to success. Anyone who tells you otherwise is selling something.

      The thing is, when we set that point off on the horizon for which we’re putting a lifetime of consistent effort into reaching, we surprise ourselves when we actually get there one day. Time flies, and horizons are reached before we know it so long as we aren’t zig-zagging from one point to the next with no clear plan. Consistent daily action in the direction of our goals remains the fastest way between two points. We look around one day and think to ourselves, “How did we get here so quickly?” May that moment of realization be positive.

      We come to understand that one horizon leads to another, then another, until we reach that final destination one day. The journey is the thing. We ought to enjoy this ride from here to there, while ensuring that there is worth the work we put in to reaching that place. The game all along is to maximize our return on our very short time invested on this planet. To live a life full of great memories and enriching experiences from which we reach that final horizon with few regrets is the epitome of true success.

    • The Bright Side of the Road

      “We cannot cure the world of sorrows, but we can choose to live in joy.” — Joseph Campbell

      Walking the dog yesterday, we came across two women; one pushing a baby stroller and the other walking two dogs. It was immediately obvious that one of the dogs was aggressive towards our dog. He pulled at his leash and snarled at our pup. Where there’s a will there’s a way, and he backed between the legs of the woman and squirmed out of his collar. Game on! As he charged towards our pup I quickly scooped her up in my arms and turned her away from the jaws of the charging dog until its owner was able to regain control of him. After some abundant apologies we each went our way on an otherwise pleasant walk.

      I get frustrated sometimes when close friends and family dwell on the darkness in the world. It’s always been there, and it always will be there. To believe otherwise is to believe in fairy tales or the flowery lies of politicians. The underlying truth is that joy has also existed in the world since the beginning of humanity. Quite often we get precisely what we seek in this life.

      “The way we choose to see the world creates the world we see.” — Barry Neil Kaufman

      I’m not advocating blindly navigating the world without awareness of the darker side of humanity. We must be aware and resilient to thwart threats against all we hold dear, but we can be aware of evil without wrapping our lives around it like a cloak. We may still trust in the inherent goodness in the world while still locking the door at night. Even still, we may be the light that illuminates the darkness that others may navigate to something better. When enough of us choose the bright side of the road the world may indeed become a more joyful place.

    • September Song

      Oh, it’s a long, long while from May to December
      But the days grow short
      When you reach September
      When the Autumn weather turns the leaves to flame
      One hasn’t got time for the waiting game
      — Frank Sinatra, September Song

      Labor Day Weekend in the United States is the unofficial end of summer. That in itself isn’t particularly remarkable, but I feel compelled to remark on the fact that it’s now September. In general I love September for the crisp air and epic sunsets that seem to come with it, but that’s tinged with the reality of shorter days and a realization that we never really do everything we wanted to do with summer before it’s gone. Alas, we can’t do it all. We must simply be deliberate about doing the things we most want to do with the time we have.

      There’s a Latin phrase that is often found on sundials, “Serius est quam cogitas”, which means, “It’s later than you think.” We must remember this and live with purpose each day, that we may look back on the season recently passed and feel we didn’t miss the boat. We can’t change seasons already passed, but we can feel the urgency to do something with today. We’re all familiar with that other Latin call to the moment, carpe diem, and ought to embrace it more for the desperate call to pay attention it was meant as. Indeed, we must seize the day before it fades away in our memory with all that is lost.

      Yesterdays carry us to today, either as a stepping stone or a slide into oblivion. I’d rather be climbing, wouldn’t you? Writing saves more of my days than reminding myself to get to it already. Writing anchors me to the moment, forcing me to pay attention to something tangible in the time I have available and do with it what I can. Last week was a series of late, often frenetic posts inserted into spare moments in airports and hotel rooms. Finding something that anchors us to the day makes the day less likely to float away like all the rest. A blog post, a moment shared with people of consequence, a bold act of self-determination and a nod to the time passing by are things we can hold on to.

    • Forever and Always Now

      Reflecting on the moment

      You said time makes the wheels spin
      And the years roll out and thе doubt rolls in
      In the truck stops, in the parking lots
      And the chеap motels
      When will we become ourselves?
      — Gillian Welch and David Rawlings, Hashtag

      The other day I was talking with a coworker at a hotel bar in Washington, DC. He’s a few years closer to retirement than I am, doesn’t travel all that much anymore in his current role and isn’t the picture of health (probably related to too much time in hotel bars). He mentioned that he’d never visited the Lincoln or Washington Memorials before, let alone the war memorials on the National Mall. He wasn’t sure if he would have the time on this particular trip either. I looked at him, said “why are we sitting here now?!” and summoned an Uber. For the next couple of hours we visited memorials to those who exemplified greatness in the United States. I took a few pictures of and with him and shared them with him afterwards. Memories must be built, not stumbled upon.

      I’ve reached a point in my life where, when I compare the former me to the current version, I usually forgive that former guy for not being better at the art of living than he was. We must figure things out along the way, or be lucky enough to have a guide to show us the ropes. We become ourselves through deliberate acts more than stumbling along through life. When we do stumble, we figure out a way to get back on track again. Being human is full of opportunities to learn and grow.

      The thing is, we must keep challenging ourselves to step out of the box we’ve grown into. It may be bigger than the one we were in before, but it’s still a damned box. The answer to “when will we become ourselves?” must forever and always be, now.

    • Someone New

      The new world is as yet
      behind the veil of destiny
      In my eyes, however
      its dawn has been unveiled
      ― Allama Iqbal

      I’m reading a comprehensive history of the European theater of World War II at the moment, which describes in unblinking clarity the horrific reality that millions of people had imposed upon them. When we know history, we understand that luck plays a big part in the quality of our lives. If you’re reading this you likely hit the same birth lottery I did of living in a place and time where we may control much of our lives. To know how lucky we are and not take full advantage of the opportunity seems disrespectful.

      We know that we actualize our destiny through action, but it all begins with a dream. We’re molding the future version of us as we navigate the developing current version. Character is layered upon us by the universe and how we react to it. The path we choose to navigate towards shapes our future self. Our new world awaits our arrival.

      Some days the changes roll through us at a dizzying pace. Other days it feels like we’re never going to do anything but daydream about a better tomorrow. Try to be patient, I tell myself, for this character will get to that place one day. Everything will change again and again, as it must, and we grow into someone new with every turn. The trick is to be grateful for the opportunity and make the most of our days on our journey to becoming.

    • Trade Value

      “I do not believe making money in order to consume goods is mankind’s sole purpose on this planet.” —Bill Hicks

      A proper career should be built on helping as many people solve problems, in the most efficient way, as possible. Making money is simply keeping score of the life we’re trading for others. When we add high value, we should make more money…. in theory. Alas, the system is gamed towards the wealth accumulators. I believe philosophers, teachers and healthcare workers ought to make more than stockbrokers, but I don’t get to set the rules.

      To then take all that life traded for money and exchange it for frivolous stuff is the biggest waste of our time. What is arguably more valuable is an exchange of greater experiences in a lifetime for that money earned helping others. It’s the best of both worlds when you think about it.

      The game of consumerism is often fatal to a great life. Life is measured in time, but also how in how we spend that time. Magical moments sprinkled throughout a lifetime, or better, spilling over from abundance, add to a life well-lived. That’s what I call a great trade.