Alexandersmap

    Category: Culture

    • The Truth, and All That is Otherwise

      “It’s easier to fool people than to convince them that they have been fooled.” — Mark Twain

      I live in a red town, the red hat MAGA red that makes normal folk a bit weary. This is most noticeable in the signs and flags displayed well before the election announcing support for the former guy who wants to be the next guy that he may pardon himself and impose his version of payback on those who would make him accountable for his actions. Perhaps necessary for him, not necessarily for the rest of humanity. I tend to find the truth somewhere in the middle, ignoring the two extremes altogether. Sadly this doesn’t seem to be the norm.

      The internet created so much abundance in this world, but abundance isn’t always a good thing. The genie is out of the bottle now, so how do we balance the truth with all that is otherwise? The old expression, “trust but verify” only works when you can trust the place where you’re verifying the information you’re wondering if you can trust. When you use the same search engine for everything, how can we be sure anything is true?

      Modern life is making fools of us all. We ought to be focused on the massive challenges humanity and this planet face, instead we’re believing our ears instead of our eyes on every conspiracy theory, rumor and innuendo we stumble upon. When future generations look at us, will they shake their head in disbelief at the con job we were all sold on?

      If I began to tell you what the truth is, you should immediately put up your guard. None of us knows the truth about everything, and those who tell you they’ve got it all figured out are usually the ones that we should all be most skeptical of. We really only know the truth about ourselves, and most of us bury that too. The irony in all of this as that fooling ourselves and others seems to be one of those timeless truths about humans we will never quite shake. But hey, don’t take my word for it.

    • Significance

      “What counts in life is not the mere fact that we have lived. It is what difference we have made to the lives of others that will determine the significance of the life we lead.” — Nelson Mandela

      The unsaid part of that quote is that we may make a positive difference in the lives of others or a negative one, both may of course be significant. There are plenty of people who choose the latter path, we may balance that with our positive contribution. Add enough positive and we may break the chain of bad behavior someday. Maybe not in our own lifetime, but hey, we can’t stop now. There’s no rest now in our quest to make a positive difference.

      When we think about the things that are significant for us, the things that anchor us to this time and place, what stands out? Isn’t it the trusted relationships formed? Family and teams and kindred spirits create a common bond and fuel purpose. We rise to meet the needs of the tribe, because the tribe has been there when we needed them.

      When I question why I’m writing a blog, it usually comes down to questions of significance, not what I’m personally getting out of the act. Same for the job I’m in. Does the work matter or is it a means to an end? To matter—to be significant, we must contribute something. What’s it all about Alfie? When you walk let your heart lead the way.

      A word like significance can be overwhelming. We think of someone like a Nelson Mandela making positive change at a global level and believe, “That’s not me”. I bet he had his own moments of doubt along the way during those decades in a prison cell. The answer is to focus on the most immediate—the person right in front of us, or the person reading this blog who has invested some of their own precious time to hear what we have to say (thank you). Together we may create exponential positive change, but it has to start somewhere. Why not with us?

    • Ideas, Dogma and Individuality

      “All leadership takes place through the communication of ideas to the minds of others.” — Charles Cooley

      “Your time is limited, so don’t waste it living someone else’s life. Don’t be trapped by dogma – which is living with the results of other people’s thinking. Don’t let the noise of other’s opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary.” ― Steve Jobs

      If there’s one thing that will define this time in our collective history, it’s the division of people into one camp or another. It’s all dogma and posturing, with little basis in actual reality. Stories are powerful, and “people like us” is compelling precisely because we don’t want to be perceived as “people like them”. It’s all just stories, amplified and accelerated by technology perhaps, but still just stories. We believe what we believe, and choose to follow those who make us feel like we belong to something bigger than ourselves. Sometimes the results are extraordinary, and sometimes they’re a tragic stain on human history.

      The key for you and me is to know that we’re always being sold on a story, and to separate ourselves from the passion of the moment to find the truth within ourselves. That’s easier said than done, especially when the people we surround ourselves with start singing the same song as the lead singer. Who doesn’t love a good singalong? It’s only when we sober up that we realize how foolish the whole thing was. That’s what the passion of the crowd will do, and it’s challenging to remove ourselves from that mosh pit once we’ve been swept into it.

      There’s no doubt that individuals get swept up in the events of their time. Sometimes self-determination isn’t in the cards. But sometimes it is. Logic and reasoning may not be as fun as chanting and clapping and doing tomahawk chops seems to be, but it removes us just enough from the zealotry of the moment to think more clearly about who we want to be. This applies equally to any group-think activity: political, religious, regional, familial and cultural. When we become part of the tribe we may identify with certain beliefs and behaviors as normal and acceptable, while we quickly judge or dismiss rival beliefs and behaviors as naive at best or abhorrent in more extreme circumstances. Wars have been carried out for less.

      The story we tell ourselves about who we are defines us and our place both in the group we find ourselves in and in history. Decide what to be and go be it, but know the risks from making the choice of the individual: ostracized, berated and occasionally burned at the stake. That’s exactly why most people simply go with the flow. But we ought to remember that there’s a price for every decision.

      The thing is, individualism aside, we all want to be part of something larger than ourselves. Being a contributor to a meaningful organization or cause feeds our purpose for being here in the first place. When we separate ourselves from dogma and popular opinion and find that we align with the mission we’re joining, extraordinary things may happen. There’s power in teamwork and shared objectives, after all. We just need to be in it for all the right reasons.

    • Finding So Good

      “Be so good they can’t ignore you.” — Steve Martin

      We’re into graduation season once again, so Steve Martin’s advice seems to come up more frequently now than at other times of the year. It’s great advice: get exceptionally good at anything and people will naturally be drawn to you to do the thing you’re really good at. Be average and swim in the pool of mediocrity hoping to stay afloat. The choice seems obvious!

      The trick is to get really good at something that enough people want. If you make the world’s best grilled cheese sandwich, people will line up to try it and post pictures to prove they were there to savor it. If you’re the best in the world at selling wooden pencils, you may scrape out a modest living but every day is a struggle to make the pencil relevant again to people who long ago moved on to typing and signing with a pen. We must surf the edge of relevancy in our choice for so good.

      I post this on a Monday—how many of us are excited about that thing we’re really good at? Does it move the chains forward in a world that is increasingly bickering about what the rules are? When we one day retire from the career we’ve built for ourselves, will our peers say there will never be another quite like us, or will the next person up quietly slip into our role and adjust our old chair to fit? Seen in that light, have we chosen the right thing to be so good at?

      The thing is, there’s still today to be exceptional and to try a different path. We may choose to be an exceptional parent or soccer coach or gardener or blogger first. We may choose to write our own rules about what so good means to us and those most important to us in our lives. That may not make us famous for our grilled cheese sandwiches, but perhaps locally famous within the circle of souls who complete our world. Fame and money can’t buy you the love of your family and friends, only transactional attention. Transactions are the opposite of engagement. Who get’s ignored in this world when the transaction is complete? Our aim ought to be more staying power than a family photo for the Christmas card.

      We are average at most things we do in life, and if we choose wisely and invest enough skill and attention to it, really good at a very short number of things. A guy like Steve Martin chose to be really good at comedy, acting, playing the banjo and writing. I’d bet that he’s got a great family life too. That requires a lot of focused energy on one thing at a time, but he’s done it. We can look at people in history with a similar track—Benjamin Franklin and Leonardo de Vinci both come to mind—who pull this off. These are exceptional lives that rise above the average.

      So what of us? We may not be graduating this month and posting pictures with proud parents, but we are beginning again in whatever path we’ve chosen. We ought to listen to the call to greatness and choose what will define this next stage of our own lives. To ignore it would be a waste.

    • Perfectly Imperfect (That Tower in Pisa)

      The thing about the leaning tower of Pisa that we know intuitively is that the whole thing was a big mistake. Weak foundations mean buildings fail over time. But this one has been a massive success for the very fact that it’s still standing, if off-kilter, despite the fatal design flaw. It’s perfectly imperfect and thus appealing—for who among us is perfect?

      Pisa is a one hit wonder on the tourist circuit. Most people swarm in, head straight to the tower and leave shortly afterward. Plenty of kitschy trinkets for sale on the gauntlet between parking and the tower. This is the modern hazard of international travel to popular destinations: aggressive tchotchke vendors.

      The tower itself is the destination, and it shocks the senses when you actually see it up close and personal. To climb it, feeling that distinct lean in every step to the top, is quite unusual and a bit thrilling. We’ve climbed stairs before, but never an off-kilter spiral like this one. You know immediately why people come here to see and climb it. Perfection is in the eye of the beholder.

    • Greek Character

      “Character is a Greek word, but it did not mean to the Greeks what it means to us. To them it stood first for the mark stamped upon the coin, and then for the impress of this or that quality upon a man, as Euripides speaks of the stamp—character—of valor upon Hercules, man the coin, valor the mark imprinted on him. To us a man’s character is that which is peculiarly his own; it distinguishes each one from the rest. To the Greeks it was a man’s share in qualities all men partake of; it united each one to the rest. We are interested in people’s special characteristics, the things in this or that person which are different from the general. The Greeks, on the contrary, thought what was important in a man were precisely the qualities he shared with all mankind. The distinction is a vital one. Our way is to consider each separate thing alone by itself; the Greeks always saw things as parts of a whole, and this habit of mind is stamped upon everything they did.” — Edith Hamilton, The Greek Way

      Greece is a place of rugged beauty, to be sure, but also of rugged character shaped by a sense of timelessness that we simply don’t have in my own country. To walk around a structure built in 444 B.C. is to taste eternity. We are humans of course, and eternity isn’t ours to embrace just yet. But we may reach for the eternal in the form of development of our character.

      Poseidon was one of the Olympians for the Greeks, presiding over such volatile things as the weather. For a Greek sailing off to fish or fight, Poseidon was a big deal, and someone to cater favor with. He also influenced the temperament of horses, and was known as the “earth shaker” for his power to control earthquakes. So building a temple devoted to Poseidon made a lot of sense, and where better for it than on a prominent cliff overlooking the Aegean Sea on Cape Sounion?

      It’s one thing to read history, quite another to stand on the edge of a cliff between the Aegean Sea and a temple erected 2500 years ago as a tribute to the god who controlled both that sea and the ground we stood on. Best to embrace the spirit of the ancients in such moments, rather than incurring the wrath of Poseidon. And that’s the thing about Greece: you feel that you’re trying to measure up instead of trying to stand out. It’s a subtle difference, but it matters a great deal. It’s not that we aren’t special (our mother’s would insist that we are), it’s that we may be integral to something far beyond our time and place. That’s the Greek character.

      The Temple of Poseidon, 444 BC

    • Historical Memory

      “History is written by the victors and framed according to the prejudices and bias existing on their side.” — George Graham Vest

      History writes itself as humans progress generation-to-generation, but that’s no guarantee of it being remembered. For, as Vest, a Confederate Senator who managed to retain power after the American Civil War pointed out, our written history is only remembered when subsequent generations choose to remember it. How many billions of souls are nothing more than a footprint? How many heroic figures would have been portrayed as villains had the other side won?

      The point was hammered home for me on a visit to the Colosseum in Rome. The Colosseum affirms history—for who doesn’t know of the Colosseum?—while also emphasizing that remembering or saving anything from one generation is at the mercy of those who follow in the next. Whole sections of the Colosseum were removed and recycled into other things, which themselves may have been removed and recycled again and again. Were it not deemed sacred the Colosseum likely would have disappeared like the statue Colossus, from which it got its name, did.

      Most Emperors, Presidents and Popes fall away into history, let alone you and me. The lesson is to enjoy the ride while we’re here, but also to be so valued by those we leave behind that we’re remembered for all the right reasons. Ultimately, our lives are fragile enough as it is without the burden of being remembered beyond a generation or two after we’re gone, so we ought to simply pursue excellence for its own sake. Our time is not some dusty monument, we write our memories now. The rest is up to those who follow.

      Rome’s Colosseum

    • Breaking Up with Temporality

      “You give yourself to life by leaving temporality behind. Desire for mortal gains and fear of loss hold you back from giving yourself to life.” — Joseph Campbell

      Admittedly, I’ve had a complicated relationship with time. I spent too much of it rushing from one commitment to another, always striving to be early so as not to waste someone else’s time should the universe align itself to create delays. I write this very blog post in a coffee shop having arrived early for a meeting just down the street. Temporality is deeply engrained within me. It’s a hard relationship to break with.

      That doesn’t make it a healthy or enabling relationship. In fact, much of the stress I’ve felt in my lifetime is related to my relationship with time. Productivity calculations in a quarter, splits on a screen as I try to beat some preconceived expectation of how quickly I can complete some workout, or the pressure I put on myself to read or write a certain amount in the time I have available for such things. Time isn’t a great measure of our worth, unless you’re an Olympic athlete or attempting to solve a Rubik’s Cube or some such thing. Tempus fugit, indeed.

      So I’ve promised myself I’d break up with temporality, once and for all. Maybe not today, mind you (for I do have these commitments lined up), surely not tomorrow (I have a flight to catch, after all), but very—very— soon. How soon? Well, maybe time wIll tell? But know this: I’m serious this, uh, time.

    • A Hike to the Hollywood Sign

      If there’s anything iconic in Los Angeles, it’s the Hollywood sign. It’s so deeply engrained in our cultural awareness that when you actually see if for the first time it doesn’t seem real. But there it is, atop Mount Lee, surrounded by chain link fencing, surveillance cameras and warning signs about trespassing. One should heed the warnings, if only to avoid the rattlesnakes and Mountain Lions said to roam the area.

      And that’s the irony of the Hollywood sign: for something so famously welcoming, it’s surrounded by signs telling you to stay the heck away from it. The neighbors don’t want you anywhere near it. The people who protect the sign from vandals take great measures to remind you to stay away from it too. What’s a hiker to do but press on in the face of all the dire warning signs? There are public trails leading to it, after all. The aim isn’t to get within arm’s length of the letters—it’s to be close enough to say you got there.

      We hiked up there early on a raw, wet Sunday morning. There were plenty of other hikers making the same trek, including a busload of tourists with umbrellas and a couple of small groups led by tour guides. The hike is roughly 5 miles round trip from the closest parking area, on terrain (access road) that is forgiving for the sneaker-wearers. Total elevation for our hike was 856 feet. So really, anyone healthy enough to walk it can make it to the summit of Mount Lee, just behind the sign. There are surely longer hikes, but in a land of mudslides those aren’t so fun in the rain.

      So why do it at all? Because it’s there, partly, but also because it’s got amazing views of Los Angeles on a clear day. And really, because it’s kind of cool to say that you’ve done it at least once. Hiking snobs may sniff at the elevation or the bands of tourists swarming around them, but who cares? Sometimes simply hiking for fun is more than enough of a reason to go.

      Los Angeles rising through the mist

      Access road signage designed to jolt the casual tourist to awareness

    • A Visit to the Getty Center’s Gardens

      “Always changing, never twice the same,” — Robert Irwin

      A day at the Getty must include a visit to the extensive collections exhibited in the museum buildings. Included in the collection are famous works like Vincent van Gogh’s “Irises” and Rembrandt’s self-portrait “Rembrandt Laughing“, along with significant works by Cézanne, Monet, Claudel and many more. One needs a full day at the Getty to see everything, and even then you feel compelled to return again as soon as possible.

      The gardens at the Getty Center are equally impressive and a must-see destination of their own. Robert Irwin’s Central Garden is a marvel in any season, and as with any magnificent garden, he practically demands that you see it in every season. In all honesty, I’d been wanting to see the museum for some time, but it was the gardens that really called to me. They don’t disappoint.

      Robert Irwin’s Central Garden is the star, with a stunning water feature, iron rod tree sculptures with bougainvillea rising through them, and an ever-changing flower-lined meandering path that leads you down to a central pond. It’s simply a must-see. Not to be undone, the Cactus Garden reaches out towards Los Angeles and the Pacific Ocean in a dramatic balcony seen from different levels. Other gardens fill the Getty as well: sculpture gardens, fountains and large rock gardens make wandering outside the museum as desirable as your time spent indoors.

      For me personally, it was time with my daughter in a magical place. She shares my love of art and the artistic process, and is pursuing her own dream to have a creative, expressive career. To share the Getty experience with her made the moment. For we too are always changing and never the same twice. And isn’t that also quite beautiful?