Alexandersmap

    Category: Culture

    • Be Yourself

      “What is the point of being on this Earth if you are going to be like everyone else?” — Arnold Schwarzenegger

      We’re all unique, yet so much of our time is dedicated to fitting in with the pack. We instinctively know the pack helps us survive, but we often chafe at the limitations of it. This is the ongoing dilemma of humanity: to be yourself or to be a part of things. As with everything, balance is the key.

      Still the call of the wild persists. We can be so much more than the average (and who wants to be average?) if we just push the boundaries a bit more. To test not just our limits, but the limits of the social construct we’ve immersed ourselves in. Yet we can never ignore the power of family and friends to pull us back in, for the better or worse, depending on the box we reside in. To believe that it doesn’t influence how far we go is delusional. The trick is to find creative ways to step out of that box. When that doesn’t work, immersing ourselves in a new social construct offers the freedom we require.

      My daughter has a friend who moved from another country to go to college in the United States. While attending college, that person decided to transition from a he to a she. In their home country they’d be murdered for such audacity as being gay, let alone transitioning. In this new social construct, she’s building a life for herself in the relative safety of California. If I got any pronouns wrong there, forgive me, for I came from a social construct that is still trying to sort it all out in our own heads. That’s not a form of resistance, that’s simply trying to learn the new game. Akin to an American watching a cricket game and trying to figure it all out.

      The point is, just be yourself, whatever that is for you. Most of us will catch up eventually. The world doesn’t turn on a dime, after all. There’s a lot of momentum forcing us to stay in line. People get spun up easily over change, and the fervor from the familiar voices (family, friends, church and state) can be compelling for people who otherwise might be more open to acceptance. Most people just want to believe the same stories they were brought up with are true. To hear otherwise is to challenge the core of who we are. Knowing this, we ought to tread lightly on their identities. Change can be hard for everyone.

      Just as we work to change ourselves incrementally with good habits, systems and routines, so it is with the world we live in. Steady progress wins in the end. We become what we consistently work towards becoming. Go be yourself. I’ll do the same. Let’s meet somewhere in the middle.

    • Threads

      This social media thing is ever-evolving, and may never be as simple as it once seemed. We can worry about that or embrace the changes that come into our lives. Amor Fati.

      My Threads account is now active. Follow along here: https://www.threads.net/@nhcarmichael

    • A World You Want to Live In

      I know you’re tired
      And you ain’t sleeping well
      Uninspired
      And likely mad as hell
      But wherever you are
      I hope the high road leads you home again
      To a world you want to live in
      — Jason Isbell and the 400 Unit, Hope the High Road

      I had a conversation with a work acquaintance who travels down a different ideological path than me. Maybe because I’m a good listener, or because I look the part, or because he’s inclined to let his opinion be known no matter who was on the other side of the conversation, his path of maybes led down the familiar sound bites for an American conservative man: taxes, guns and the irrational left. I heard him out instead of debating him on each point I disagreed with. I’ve learned long ago to stand my ground but always hear out contrary opinions. The weakest minds among us are those who refuse to listen for want of shouting down instead.

      There’s no doubt the world is experiencing friction. Humans angry with other humans, climate change turning the seasons upside down, rhetoric turned up, and bad behavior seemingly rewarded with fame and fortune. Aggressiveness is celebrated, amplified and repeated. There’s an ugly side to humanity, a side we thought we’d transcended for a brief, shining moment, but which keeps expressing itself despite our best wishes. We used to shame away the crazies, now we make them leaders and lawmakers. History strongly suggests it has always been this way. And yet we progress despite ourselves.

      We all know the expression: be the change you want to see in the world. It may feel insufficient given the weight of all our problems, for we’re far from perfect. As I travel around the world, it’s clear that most everyone is trying to take the high road and be that change we all want to see. Therein lies the secret to happiness in this tragic comedy: choosing what to see. In this brief lifetime together, we must see everything, the ugly and the beautiful, and focus on connection. This is more than symbolism, it’s putting in the sweat equity that brings us closer together instead of further apart. Collectively, we are what we choose to work on.

      May our work carry us higher.

    • The Greatest Ghost

      “In the end, we are haunted by the examples of the past, the denied permission to live a free journey. We are haunted by the partial examples of those in our purview, taking their pusillanimity or oppression as predictive of our own. We are haunted by the social constructs that tell us what a woman is and what she can or cannot do, and what a man is and how he will be shamed by living beyond these calculated constrictions. We are haunted by bad theology, bad psychology, and bad social models into thinking we are defined by our history, by our race, or by cultural heritage. We are haunted by the unexamined lives of our ancestors and caregivers. We are haunted by the widespread impression that history is the future. We are haunted by the limited imagination of our complexes. And even more, we are haunted by the small lives we live in the face of our immense possibilities. Haunting is individual, generic, cultural, and extremely hard to challenge because it so often seems bound by generations of practice, ancestral fears, and archaic defenses of privilege.
      The biggest haunting of all, the biggest shadow that occludes our sense of sovereignty in the outer world, is the specter of our unlived life. Something within each of us suffers, longs, despairs, persists, and even goes underground to reemerge as fantasy, as projections onto surrogate objects of desire, or as anesthetizing self-soothing. When the soul is not honored, when our possibility is denied by an outer oppressor, a social proscription, or worse, our own pusillanimity, our pathology intensifies. We are bombarded with pharmaceutical anodynes, cultural distractions, and rationalizations and evasions that facilitate these deflections from the summons to personhood. In the context of such hauntings, the greatest ghost for us is the apparition of what was possible but that we shunned. Such moments are not very pretty and may have to haunt us even more to get our actionable accountability. If we live in haunted houses, we are called to turn the lights on and clean house.”
      — James Hollis, Living an Examined Life: Wisdom for the Second Half of the Journey

      I suppose Hollis’ words might be broken down to this: We mustn’t live our lives encumbered by the embedded beliefs that have held us back thus far. We must break away from that prison and go live boldly. To do otherwise is to succumb to our limitations. The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation, as Thoreau put it.

      These are lessons that come to us in time. We see the ghosts for what they are and work to open our minds that they might drift away. Are we the best of what we might have been? Probably not, but we can point to the highlights proudly and remind the ghosts that we’ve lived a good life nonetheless. We each know where we might have done more. That doesn’t make what we’ve done worthless, but it ought to be a foundation more than a prison cell. Who we become next is largely based on what we do with the days left for us.

      The trick to chasing the ghosts away is boldness. Our ghosts don’t want to follow us into scary places. Just as a bully often caves in when confronted, so too do our self-limiting beliefs. We are capable of so much more than we give ourselves credit for. A bit of audacity is good for the soul, and sets it free to go be. Audacity is the antithesis of pusillanimity (I don’t even like writing pusillanimity, let alone being it). Like the character George in Seinfeld, doing the opposite opens up all kinds of possibilities for us.

      We are what we repeatedly do, this we know to be true. So it’s fair to ask ourselves, what voice directs what we’re repeatedly doing? Is it a ghost or the song of freedom from who we used to be? Is it time for a new dance track? Stop shunning possibility. Dance with audacity, it may just turn the ghosts on their heads.

    • History and Identity

      July was originally called Quintilis, which is latin for fifth (The Roman calendar once consisted of ten months: Martius, Aprilis, Maius, Junius, Quintilis, Sextilis, September, October, November, and December). When Julius Caesar was assassinated, his birth month was named in his honor (July: Julius), thus forever changing what we call the month (August was similarly named after a Roman, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves). Such is the reach of the Romans: they’re very much a part of everything around us, we just don’t always see them. The months make a lot more sense when you know they threw on January and February after the fact.

      History isn’t just all around us, it’s a part of our identity. As such, we rarely stop to think about it. Why was a street named this way? How about the town itself? What of the waterways and mountains? Everything originated in history and carries with us today. Whether a Roman Emperor or a slave cast to the lions, each was woven into the fabric of our identity.

      Do you wonder what history we’re making now? Where will all of this take us? They say in songwriting that everything’s been done already, yet people keep coming up with creatively new songs. Likewise, everything has been written already, and AI is taking over everything anyway, so why bother writing anything at all? Because nobody has every experienced what we are experiencing. Nobody could possibly have our unique perspective on the world, because it wasn’t their world then and it surely isn’t anyone else’s. Perspective matters a great deal in art.

      We may not have a month named after us, or even a local street, but we can each leave our dent in the universe with each act. The dominos will fall where they may (or is that Maius?). Everything matters or none of it does: time will determine everything. History will live on without us one day. But it may yet feel our ripple. Perhaps it already has. The only thing certain is this story isn’t over quite yet.

    • Full Moon & Fireworks

      I once was a boat owner. Nowadays I’m a passenger on other people’s boats, and occasionally crew. I’d like to say I like it this way, not having the expense of maintaining a boat and such talk, but once it’s in your blood you never get over not having one, no matter how often you hop on someone else’s. That doesn’t make the experience any less delightful when you’re blessed with the opportunity. It’s more a call from the life that got away.

      Big Island Pond, located in Southern New Hampshire, is bordered by three towns. The namesake big island, called Governor’s Island, is mostly conservation land, making the lake feel like a time warp back to another era. There is a lot of history on this small lake, beginning with the famous Native American warrior Escumbuit, one of the leaders of the Abenaki. For the French, he was considered a hero, and knighted by Louis XIV of France in 1706. For the English settlers, he was a holy terror, responsible for several local raids during King William’s War and Queen Anne’s War. He lived on a small island now named after him; Escumbuit Island. Another famous character, Alan Shepard, the first American in space, also once lived on Escumbuit Island. Surely, there are whispers from history on quiet nights on this lake.

      Today, there’s little doubt who won the long game. The perimeter of the lake is lined with homes, and every one of those homeowners tries to be on the lake for the 4th of July fireworks. The threat of rain postponed the fireworks this night, making the lake quieter than it otherwise would have been. It turned out to be the wrong decision for the fireworks organizers, as the rains drifted away and the skies cleared enough to offer a full moon spectacle for those who ventured onto the lake anyway. That full moon rose over the dark shoreline, illuminating the calm lake with wonder.

      Cruising a populated American lake on the weekend of our national holiday is usually a recipe for boisterous fun and a bouncy ride. Boaters jockey for position to watch the fireworks, various patriotic-themed soundtracks and “homeowner special” fireworks blend together into a chaos of sound. Individual boats are also lit up in various colorful displays. I suspect most of the people on those boats are also lit up. Such is Independence Day in America. Americans don’t take nearly enough time off, but when we try to make up for lost time.

      With the fireworks postponed, it fell to some adventurous souls to make their own display. Three characters, one in nothing but a red, white and blue bathing suit, floated a swimming platform out into the middle of the lake stacked with professional-grade fireworks. They spent the next half an hour lighting off ridiculously large fireworks precariously close to their future well-being. As with boats, other people’s fireworks cost a lot less but offer the same benefit. We had a front row seat for our own fireworks display, making for a magical evening with friends. Sometimes things just seem to come together at just the right time. A timeless lake, full of history and magic, set the stage once again.

    • A Visit with Myles Standish

      Duxbury, Massachusetts doesn’t have the same notoriety as its neighbor Plymouth, but the roots of history run nearly as deep here. To be fair, if people think of Duxbury at all, it’s usually as an upper class suburb of Boston. There’s plenty of wealth on display in this town. But step away from the massive homes with their perfectly manicured gardens and you’ll find a legacy that reaches back to the Mayflower. The most famous character on the Mayflower, Myles Standish, lived and died in Duxbury, and is buried in what is now known as the Myles Standish Burying Ground.

      The burying ground was once adjacent to a meeting house, long gone, but marked with granite stones to indicate where it once stood. It is the oldest continuously maintained graveyard in the United States. The lay of the land is largely the same within the enclosure. The thing about graveyards is you’re walking on ground largely unchanged since the days when the people buried there were laid to rest. The entire area around a graveyard becomes housing developments and strip malls and paved roads, but these small graveyards are a time machine back to another time.

      Captain Jonathan Alden, son of Mayflower passengers John and Priscilla Alden, is also buried in this graveyard, and his is the oldest gravestone in the burying ground. Standish, who died well before Alden, likely had small pyramid-shaped stones marking his interment initially, and the monument built around the spot in 1893 (you can see one of these stones behind the boulder engraved with Myles Standish’s name in the picture below). That engraved boulder, like Plymouth Rock, is something for the tourists. The monument itself, with a fieldstone wall surrounding it and four cannon mounted on each corner, projects the violent boldness of the man interred beneath.

      Myles Standish was a military advisor to the Pilgrims. By all accounts he was brutal and decisive in his actions. He would preemptively attack when he heard trouble was brewing, and famously stuck the head of one rival, Wituwamat, on a pike as a deterrent to others. There seems to be no doubt that Wituwamat was lured into a room and murdered. Was this act of brutality something to be celebrated or scorned? Was there a legitimate threat to the Pilgrims, and could it have been resolved in a more diplomatic way? What’s clear is Standish believed he was fighting for the lives of the colonists, and used any method he could to intimidate those who he believed were threats to their safety. As with all history, we judge it from the comfort of distance.

      At another spot in town, on a point of land jutting out into Kingston Harbor, there are four more granite stones laid out in a park amongst multi-million dollar homes overlooking the harbor. It was here that Myles Standish actually lived. I found this interesting, as a military man like Standish would normally seek the high ground. A review of a Google map later revealed a small pond nearby that would have been his source of fresh water. Perhaps Myles dined regularly on Duxbury oysters, which have become almost as famous as the town’s most notable resident.

    • Becoming Rich With Memories

      “The business of life is the acquisition of memories. In the end that’s all there is.” — Mr. Carson of Downton Abbey

      “You retire on your memories. When you’re too frail to do much of anything else, you can still look back on the life you’ve lived and experience immense pride, joy, and the bittersweet feeling of nostalgia…. Making deliberate choices about how to spend your money and your time is the essence of making the most of your life energy.” — Bill Perkins, Die With Zero

      We all talk of how the time flies by, but perhaps we ought to focus on how many great memories we accumulate in that span. If we’re living well, experiences are acquired and flipped into memories with the turn of the calendar. We may not become financially wealthy, but surely we might accumulate a lifetime of memories worthy of our time. As the quote above points out, in the end, isn’t that all there is?

      What are memories but the realization of deliberate action? As much as I love a good spreadsheet, I know deep down that working in them isn’t creating memories that will last a week, let alone a lifetime. But I may just remember the conversation I have with someone important in my world a lot longer. I may recall the thrill of peering over a cliff at an angry ocean in Portugal and smile someday when I’m too old for such things. I expect I’ll still smile at the recollection of my kids realizing the amusement park ride they insisted on going on was going to be a lot scarier than they’d bargained on when they begged to go on it. This is the accumulated wealth of memories.

      Perkins’ book challenges us to stop accumulating savings and start spending our money while we’re healthy and fit enough to actually do the things we promise ourselves we’ll eventually do, someday, when we retire. As if we can do at 65 what we might do at 25 or 35. Do it now. There is no tomorrow, and if there is, we won’t be able to pull off some of the things we believe our bodies and minds will be capable of someday when.

      I’ve watched too many people in my life hear the news that they won’t make it to retirement. Cancer seems to be the most common thief of dreams, but maybe an accident or a heart attack steals everything you’ve ever planned for “someday when” away from you. Your life is now: accumulate the memories that will make you richer then. It’s the best return on investment we can have with today.

    • The Less Lazy Way

      “Men are inclined to laziness. Some will feel that he might have said with greater justice: they are all timorous. They hide behind customs and opinions. At bottom, every human being knows very well that he is in this world just once, as something unique, and that no accident, however strange, will throw together a second time into a unity such a curious and diffuse plurality: he knows it, but hides it like a bad conscience.” — Friedrich Nietzsche, The Will to Power

      To borrow the Kenny Loggins phrase: This is it. Make no mistake where you are. You’re going no further. We know this intuitively, yet we still wrap ourselves in lazy routines and escapism. We’ve got nothing more than now to work with, yet we treat our days as frivolously as disposable napkins. ’tis now or never friend. Break the lazy—be bolder.

      Easier said than done. We all have our bank of bad habits. I know I ought to work out more and put in more time with the things I’m leaning into becoming. But life gets busy, people we care about need our attention, work demands are never quite satiated. The fact of the matter is, after a long day of filling other people’s buckets our own feels pretty empty. Good enough seems okay in such moments. This is where we must break free of ourselves.

      “How does one become stronger? By deciding slowly; and by holding firmly to the decision once it is made. Everything else follows of itself.” ― Friedrich Nietzsche, The Will to Power

      Decide what to be and go be it. And then establish habits that affirm the identity we wish to have in this brief lifetime. Simple, right? We know better. Creating the person we wish to become is never simple, but it is possible. This is the less lazy way, and everything else follows.

    • The Present

      “And I asked myself about the present: how wide it was, how deep it was, how much was mine to keep.” — Kurt Vonnegut, Slaughterhouse-Five

      “It occurred to him that there must be some state institute, a kind of time bank, where he would be able to change at least some part of his shabby seconds.” — Rainer Maria Rilke, The Notes of Malte Laurids Brigge,

      Time is not ours to keep—more a wave we surf to the beach. We dabble in time, thinking about improving our productivity and efficiency and doing more with less, but really, we’re trying to avoid wasting the time we have. Making the most of the present is the only worthy goal as we surf this wave.

      Lately conversations about time have come up a lot in the circles I run amuck in. Talk of people taking more time off, people who feel they’re time hasn’t been used wisely, people quickly running out of time (I’ve had more conversations about hospice recently than at any time in my life). Everybody is going through something in their lives. The surfing isn’t always great in this complex world.

      This writing habit is one of the best things I’ve invested my time in. Writing isn’t passing the time, and it isn’t a celebration of one’s greatest exploits. It’s putting a spotlight on the hourglass and seeing each grain of sand and savoring the seconds. This is living in the present: good, bad and all that lies in between. The secret is to add depth and breadth to each moment of it. And maybe write the chapter in such a way that it lives on beyond the present.