Alexandersmap

    Category: Culture

    • Talkin’ to Myself

      Talkin’ to myself and feelin’ old
      Sometimes I’d like to quit
      Nothin’ ever seems to fit
      Hangin’ around
      Nothin’ to do but frown
      Rainy days and Mondays always get me down
      — The Carpenters/Adam Williams, Rainy Days and Mondays

      Rainy days and Mondays never really drag me down. Sure, we’ve had way more rain than we should this season, while others aren’t getting nearly enough of it. I can fret about climate change but I don’t usually care that it’s raining or sunny on any given day. Likewise, I don’t worry all that much whether it’s a Monday or a Saturday, as each is a gift. The key is whether you feel in control of your days or whether you feel someone else is controlling them. We can’t control the passing of time or the weather, only our reaction to it. The jury is still out on whether we collectively have the fortitude to do anything about climate change.

      I saw a friend the other day who parroted the dangers of “mass murderers swarming crossing the border and descending upon innocents across the country”. I didn’t have the energy to get in a debate with him, having learned during the last two elections in the United States that people are going to believe what they believe and you just can’t force an alternate story line upon a zealot. It made me sad to see another one gone though, reminding me of that closing moment in Invasion of the Body Snatchers when you realize someone you once believed in had switched over to the dark side. Sometimes you just want to scream. But like the weather, this is a reaction we can choose or opt out of. Instead I focused on what we had in common.

      The quality of our lives is always going to be about who is controlling our time and our belief system. When we accept that some things are out of our control, we learn to work with what we can. Amor fati. Our beliefs, on the other hand, can be developed independently of what those around us may believe. We may yet become who we want to be in this life, and we ought to have faith in others to find a way forward too.

      Lately my posts have been all over the place in both content and when they’re published. It’s a sign of a complicated life, perhaps, or maybe it’s just the time bucket I happen to reside in at the moment. Either way, it’s documented and best viewed through the lens of time. What I’m sure of is that I’ve often wanted to quit, but just keep writing anyway. That’s how life works too. Just keep showing up and doing the work and things usually work out in the end. Nothing to be down about at all, really. Just one soul in a wild world, talking to himself.

    • The Layer Cake of Happiness and Purpose

      “[There is an] age-old debate over two kinds of happiness that scholars refer to as hedonia and eudaimonia. Hedonia is about feeling good; eudaimonia is about living a purpose-filled life. In truth, we need both. Hedonia without eudaimonia devolves into empty pleasure; eudaimonia without hedonia can become dry…. I think we should seek work that is a balance of enjoyable and meaningful. At the nexus of enjoyable and meaningful is interesting.” — Arthur C. Brooks, From Strength to Strength

      There’s a special kind of joy that comes from marrying purpose with happiness. When we find our engagement with the world has both a why and joyfulness we enter blissful work. If this seems evasive, it’s because it is. Some people never find one or the other, let alone both in their lives. I believe it’s usually tapping us on the shoulder asking us to stop staring straight ahead and take a look at what we’ve been missing all along.

      The secret, always, is the people we surround ourselves with. When we’re constantly lifting up those around us, we can’t help but be dragged down ourselves. When others share the lift, the weight of the world seems lighter. When others lift us up in turn, we reach heights we might not have thought possible previously. We are the average of the people we surround ourselves with, so we ought to raise the average both in whom we spend our time with and the character we bring to the table.

      When we stop trying so damned hard to be happy or to find purpose and simply contribute our verse, we find over time that things like happiness simply happen organically. Building a lifetime of contribution and engagement with the world we find our foundation becomes stronger and we’re able to weather the inevitable storms that wash over us that erode weaker foundations. Life becomes a layer cake of happiness and purpose, repeated. When done in the company of exceptional people, what a wonderful life we might build together.

    • Unhurried and Wise

      “Shams and delusions are esteemed for soundest truths, while reality is fabulous. If men would steadily observe realities only, and not allow themselves to be deluded, life, to compare it with such things as we know, would be like a fairy tale and the Arabian Nights’ Entertainments. If we respected only what is inevitable and has a right to be, music and poetry would resound along the streets. When we are unhurried and wise, we perceive that only great and worthy things have any permanent and absolute existence, that petty fears and petty pleasures are but the shadow of the reality. This is always exhilarating and sublime. By closing the eyes and slumbering, and consenting to be deceived by shows, men establish and confirm their daily life of routine and habit everywhere, which still is built on purely illusory foundations.” — Henry David Thoreau, Walden

      I logged on to a Software-as-a-Service account I use for work thinking I’d quickly check a box that was nagging me. Upon login I was prompted for a mandatory password change, adding another box to check instead of eliminating one. So it is that even the quickest tasks lead to more tasks, and the whirl spins our heads just when we think we have it all figured out.

      Some of us aspire to be unhurried and wise. Certainly, during the pandemic we all examined our priorities. Many pivoted to more meaning, while others leaped back into the familiar trap of distraction. I was somewhere in between, with an inclination to seek waterfalls and summits balanced by a series of compelling shows streaming on too many services to count that I simply had to catch up on so I could keep up with the conversation. I never quite met my objective on either count, but don’t feel compelled to finish any of them at the moment. Checking boxes is a game, and there are times in our life when we grow tired of games.

      When we make time for nature and poetry in our lives, we aren’t being frivolous, we’re seeking the essential. To do this properly is to eliminate distraction and focus on where we are now. Some of us become masterful in adding one more thing to the list, thinking it will be the one thing that will fulfill us or at least make the day complete. This is a form of frenzy, which is never an attractive state. Better to shorten the list than shorten our state of awareness and calm. The goal of life should never be to rush through it.

      If I aspire to anything in this stage of life, it’s to move closer to unhurried and wise. By all accounts I’ve got a long way to go in both respects, but there’s no rushing to unhurried, and there’s no shortcut to wise. It begins with shorter lists and lingering longer on the quietly beautiful magic around us. Some tasks are inevitable, but they should never be at the expense of what has a right to be in this moment.

    • Soundtrack Memories

      In the last few days, a trio of musicians have passed away. They say these things happen in threes, and there you go. Jimmy Buffett, Steve Harwell from Smash Mouth and Gary Wright all passed away within a couple of days of each other. Each is a part of our soundtrack in their own way, and certain songs remind us of special moments in our lives when it was playing. Memories are funny things, and songs, like scents, bring the past back in waves.

      Well, I think it’s time to get ready
      To realize just what I have found
      I have lived only half of what I am
      It’s all clear to me now
      My heart is on fire
      — Gary Wright, Love Is Alive

      There always seemed to be a Gary Wright song playing for awhile there. Especially Dream Weaver but Love is Alive wasn’t far behind. Together they’re an integral part of the life of anyone who listened to popular music in the 70’s. Gary was a musician on George Harrison’s All Things Must Pass album, which seems appropriate to bring up at the moment. We keep seeing examples of it, and our lesson is clear: Memento mori, friend. Carpe diem…

      So much to do, so much to see
      So what’s wrong with taking the back streets?
      You’ll never know if you don’t go
      You’ll never shine if you don’t glow
      Hey now, you’re an all star
      Get your game on, go play
      Hey now, you’re a rock star
      Get the show on, get paid
      And all that glitters is gold
      Only shooting stars break the mold
      — Smash Mouth, All Star

      Smash Mouth was a shooting star at a time when the entire music industry was swirling with exciting new music. I’ve often thought I’d use these lyrics one day, I just didn’t anticipate it would be at the death of their lead singer. The thing about shooting stars is that they burn out quickly. Harwell’s lifestyle apparently led to his early demise at 56. I know someone trying to kill themselves with alcohol and had a cousin who did. Alcohol can be a demon that grabs ahold of its victim and drags them down to depths unexpected when they start dancing with it. I feel for his family and friends.

      Most mysterious calling harbor
      So far but yet so near
      I can see the day when my hair’s full gray
      And I finally disappear
      — Jimmy Buffett, One Particular Harbor

      Jimmy Buffett had twenty years on Harwell, but it still felt like he passed way too soon. His impact on my own soundtrack is obvious, as I’ve inserted him into three blog posts in the three days since I heard that he’d passed away. Each of these musicians filled some part of our lives, and by extension the lives of those who live on the periphery and catch the tune as they’re making their own memories. Music and memories are viral in that way. The music lives on, as we all say, but the world feels a bit emptier today than it did just a few days ago. Each of them filled the world with song. Doesn’t it fall on us to pick up where they left off?

    • Winds of Time

      I’m growing older but not up
      My metabolic rate is pleasantly stuck
      Let those winds of time blow over my head
      I’d rather die while I’m livin’ than live while I’m dead
      — Jimmy Buffett, I’m Growing Older But Not Up

      Two events happened concurrently over the last few days that rocked the boat for me. Jimmy Buffett passed away, following Gordon Lightfoot, Harry Belafonte and several other performers to Rock & Roll heaven, while signaling once again that the party doesn’t go on indefinitely. And less important to the world at large, a building I once worked at with many motivated change agents was announced to be closing. The subsequent rehashing of memories from people I haven’t seen in years triggered even more nostalgia for me. When things are subtracted from the sum of our lives, we inevitably feel the loss. But those winds of change keep blowing, and we must learn to navigate them as best we can.

      Nothing drives change like time. And we have blessedly little control over the sweeping changes it inflicts upon us all. Realizing this is either the moment that panic sets in and we scurry to grab control over things we will never control or the moment we accept the circumstances of being born into this mad situation. Amor fati: love of fate. The universe isn’t ours to control, only our reaction to the forces blowing over us.

      The thing we sometimes forget about growing older is how lucky we are for the gift of time. Those extra days offer an accumulation of memories and experiences that make life more complete. Alternatively, we might resist change and hold on for dear life to things that were never meant to be forever things. We ourselves aren’t forever things. Memento mori. So don’t postpone living. We can’t live when we’re dead.

    • RIP Jimmy Buffett: Fare You Well

      I put my completed blog post aside after hearing the news that Jimmy Buffett had passed away yesterday. It will have to wait for another day: An original modern pirate has died.

      Jimmy Buffett found paradise and told the rest of world where to find it, creating an industry in the process. Everybody knows Margaritaville and Come Monday, but it takes a dedicated Parrothead to dive deeply into his catalog. Here are five songs to remember Jimmy Buffett by as we toast his life with a splash of rum and a song in our hearts:

      A Pirate Looks At Forty

      If Margaritaville is the anthem for Parrotheads, A Pirate Looks At Forty is the heart and soul. Any sailor worth their salt has hummed this song to themselves at some point while on the water or wishing they were so. Many of us fancy ourselves as rebels and pirates when we aren’t being responsible adults, and this song is the anchor for that identity.

      Mother, mother ocean, I have heard you call
      Wanted to sail upon your waters since I was three feet tall
      You’ve seen it all, you’ve seen it all
      Watched the men who rode you, switch from sails to steam
      And in your belly, you hold the treasures few have ever seen
      Most of ’em dream, most of ’em dream
      Yes, I am a pirate, two hundred years too late
      The cannons don’t thunder, there’s nothin’ to plunder
      I’m an over-forty victim of fate
      Arriving too late, arriving too late

      Jimmy Dreams

      Jimmy reminds himself and each of us to take it all in it’s as big as it seems. The explorer within us dying to break free hears that call, and seeks adventure. We live in a world that mocks dreamers. He reminds us that everything big begins with the audacity to dream it.

      Jimmy stares
      Towards the bright Piades
      It’s so strange
      What his distant eye sees
      The worlds such a toy if you just stay a boy
      You can spin it again and again
      Who knows why you start
      Rediscovering your heart
      But that’s why Jimmy dreams

      Migration

      I may have heard this song a thousand times by now, and still smile at the idea of training a parakeet to open your wine bottles for you. Buffett in his latter years was wealthy enough to have people for that, but can’t you just picture him in that old suit? He was a master at painting the tropics as magical.

      Well now if I ever live to be an old man
      I’m gonna sail down to Martinique
      I’m gonna buy me a sweat-stained Bogart suit
      And an African parakeet
      And then I’ll sit him on my shoulder
      And open up my trusty old mind
      I gonna teach him how to cuss, teach him how to fuss
      And pull the cork out of a bottle of wine

      Nautical Wheelers

      Perhaps my favorite song by Jimmy Buffett, Nautical Wheelers portrays the early days in Key West, when anything seemed possible if you just stepped into it. The Keys are a destination now, and that young man holding the line while everyone else at the party danced to their own beat would have been amazed at how much his songs sold the dream. Life was more laid back then. It was a place where you could live and die in 3/4 time. Today cruise ships dump tourists off to hit Sloppy Joe’s and Capt Tony’s Saloon before stumbling back aboard. We all want a bit of paradise, and to be where it all started.

      Well the left foot it’ll follow where the
      Right foot has traveled down to the
      Sidewalks unglued.
      And into the street of my city so neat,
      Where nobody cares what you do.
      And Sonja’s just grinnin’
      And Phil is ecstatic and
      Mason has jumped in the sea.
      While I’m hangin’ on to a line
      From my sailboat oh,
      Nautical Wheelers save me.
      And It’s dance with me, dance with me
      Nautical wheelers.
      Take me to stars that you know.
      Come on and dance with me,
      Nautical wheelers
      I want so badly to go.

      Cowboy in the Jungle

      Jimmy saw those businesses catering to tourists and doubled down on it with the Margaritaville brand. But well before that he looked less fondly at those who tried to jamb a lifetime of freedom into a few vacation days. If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em, they say. Buffett became a billionaire on the idea of freedom and the carefree tropical lifestyle. But who wants to swim in a roped-off sea?

      Alone on a midnight passage
      I can count the falling stars
      While the Southern Cross and the satellites
      They remind me of where we are
      Spinning around in circles
      Living it day to day
      And still 24 hours may be 60 good years
      It’s really not that long a stay

      Savannah Fare You Well

      Buffett’s daughter is named Savannah, so the place had a special meaning for him. When people think of Buffett for songs like Fruit Cakes, Fins and Volcano, I point them towards Savannah Fare You Well as an example of a more refined, introspective artist. There are so many great songwriters out there, but nobody sold the salty dream better than Jimmy Buffett.

      It’s such a fragile magic
      A puff of wind can break the spell
      And all the golden threads are frail as spider webs
      Savannah, fare you well

    • Doing If You Want To‘s

      “If you want to be a poet, write poetry. Every day. Show us your work.
      If you want to do improv, start a troupe. Don’t wait to get picked.
      If you want to help animals, don’t wait for vet school. Volunteer at an animal shelter right now.
      If you want to write a screenplay, write a screenplay.
      If you want to do marketing, find a good cause and spread the idea. Don’t ask first.
      If you’d like to be more strategic or human or caring at your job, don’t wait for the boss to ask.
      Once we leave out the “and” (as in, I want to do this and be well paid, invited, approved of and always successful) then it’s way easier to.”
      — Seth Godin, Are you doing what you said you wanted to do?

      Well, if you want to sing out, sing out
      And if you want to be free, be free
      ‘Cause there’s a million things to be
      You know that there are
      — Cat Stevens (Yusuf Islam), If You Want to Sing Out, Sing Out

      We complicate things with the stories we tell ourselves. We envision what a writer ought to look like, or an actor or leader or whatever we aspire to be. Instead of just slipping on the role for size and doing it. Just do it, as Nike famously coopted as their slogan. How many do just that? Don’t let it slip away, do some version of it now and grow into the rest.

      I write this blog fancying myself a writer. I wear plenty of other hats as well, so I try to write before the world wakes up and tells me I’m supposed to be something else now. Most of the time I give the world what it wants of me, but for a little time every day I simply write. If the posts are late in the day or seem a bit compressed and scattered, it’s usually a sign that I was running late, compressed and scattered myself. But I still put it out there as a humble statement that yes, I do in fact write.

      There’s a million things to be, you know that there are, but there’s usually a very short list of things you simply have to be to feel you’re on the right path. Doing those if you want to’s is the only way to feel like the world isn’t passing you by. Most of the universe barely recognizes that Seth Godin or Yusuf Islam put out similar statements, let alone me, but each of us knows that we showed up and shipped the work. We each grow into our identity with the things we do now. Sometimes that’s enough.

    • Existing Determinedly

      “The content of our truth depends upon our appropriating the historical foundation. Our own power of generation lies in the rebirth of what has been handed down to us. If we do not wish to slip back, nothing must be forgotten; but if philosophizing is to be genuine our thoughts must arise from our own source. Hence all appropriation of tradition proceeds from the intentness of our own life. The more determinedly I exist, as myself, within the conditions of the time, the more clearly I shall hear the language of the past, the nearer I shall feel the glow of its life.” — Karl Jaspers, Philosophy of Existence (Existenzphilosophie)

      This idea of reading and weaving the philosophical work of past greats into our own lives today is nothing new, yet so many only read new books. If these new books are inspired and drawn from the great thinkers of the past, then doesn’t it make sense to dive deeply into the source material? Put another way, if we are to be a part of the Great Conversation, we must first be conversationally competent. Seek first to understand, then to be understood, as Stephen Covey put it.

      Sitting at the dinner table with some highly intelligent people this evening, the conversation moved from business talk to philosophy, history and religion. Being able to keep pace with these folks doesn’t elevate me to a place of prominence, but it surely makes the evening more interesting than it otherwise might have been. It also makes me more inclined to speak up, and to be listened to by others. Of course, we don’t seek knowledge to be more interesting, but to dive deeper into our own development as human beings. What is the glow of life but feeling fully engaged in the moment? Of rising to meet it?

    • The Freedom of Inaction

      “Nature knows no pause in progress and development, and attaches her curse on all inaction.” — Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

      “The human race is a monotonous affair. Most people spend the greatest part of their time working in order to live, and what little freedom remains so fills them with fear that they seek out any and every means to be rid of it.” — Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

      The 28th of August is Goethe’s birthday, so I thought it fitting to reflect on two quotes that, on the face of it, seem to contradict each other. Quotes have a way of expressing what you want them to, without the depth and nuance of the longer work they’re drawn from. We live in a soundbites culture, after all, and the lede is all some people want to read. We know Goethe went far deeper, and owe it to ourselves to jump into the deep end ourselves, don’t we?

      On the one hand, we know it to be true that momentum is sustained by continuous action (Stephen Covey would have said pushing the flywheel), yet on the other know that rest is as essential to our long term wellbeing as action is(Covey’s sharpening the saw). They don’t contradict, they aggregate. As with everything else in life, balance is the key.

      As I close out the final miles of a walking challenge I made for myself this summer, I see the cumulative benefit of it in better fitness even as I feel the soreness from some long walks to close out the goal. We know when we ought to rest more, and ignore it at our peril. This is true in everything. Taking some time off from work last week, I anticipated long walks balanced by long stints on the beach diving into the stack of books I’d been collecting for the occasion. That beach time largely evaporated as I conceded time to projects that simply had to get done. The feeling of watching the week slip away with most of that stack of books unread was akin to feeling like you missed your flight as it departed the gate.

      The thing is, there’s freedom in inaction. Deliberate down time without distraction forces us to sort things out in both body and spirit, and clear the way for the next phase of action to follow. That compulsion to do more instead of embracing essential rest eventually catches up to us. I return from time off feeling there was unfinished business, unlike a few weeks ago when sailing, where plugging in or doing projects simply weren’t options. So it seems the key for relaxation is to eliminate any means to rid ourselves of the freedom of inaction. This shouldn’t be physically removing ourselves from task mania, but instead mentally doing so. Just say no to the task master inside.

      Happy Birthday Johann. I’ll try to relax a bit today in your honor. But there’s work to do before that. You know: no pause in progress and development, and all that.

    • The Shift From Intelligence to Wisdom

      “When you are young, you have raw smarts; when you are old, you have wisdom. When you are young, you can generate lots of facts; when you are old, you know what they mean and how to use them…. if you can repurpose your professional life to rely more on crystallized intelligence—your peak will come later but your decline will happen much, much later, if ever.” — Arthur C. Brooks, From Strength to Strength

      Raymond Cattell theorized that we have two kinds of intelligence: fluid intelligence, which includes problem solving, reasoning and logic, and crystallized intelligence, which is the wisdom to draw upon our accumulated knowledge and derive what to make if it all. If fluid intelligence is exhibited by start-up hustle and eager undergraduate students devouring information, crystallized intelligence is more the consultant swooping in to help a business define their why, or a professor guiding those undergrads towards enlightenment.

      In my career, I’ve been the eager hustler trying to do as much as I could in the world, and I’ve become the person trying to make sense of it all. It’s probably no coincidence that I began this blog when I reached some measure of crystallized intelligence. Surely it would be nothing but fish and chips reviews (ie: discovery) were I still in that fluid intelligence stage. Ten years ago I was still taking exams to add certification credentials to my resume. I wouldn’t dream of playing that game today. Does that make me an old dog unwilling to learn new tricks, or someone who realizes my best game isn’t about that particular trick?

      The thing is, we can still be eager students of life at any age. We can seek wisdom when we’re young and solve problems when we grow old, but it helps greatly to optimize our lives around our strengths in the phase of life we find ourselves in. To be useful and productive means something different at 25, 50 and 75. we ought to dance with our strengths and mitigate the impact of the absence of those strengths we haven’t arrived at yet, or have faded as we change.

      Brooks’ premise is that achievers often fight the natural decline in fluid intelligence instead of embracing the accumulated wisdom and potential of crystallized intelligence. This leads to frustration at best and bitterness at seeing the world pass us by at worst. The answer seems to be finding a groove that matches the music playing on our particular playlist, and dance with that. The tune changes as we change, but it’s music just the same.