Alexandersmap

    Category: Culture

    • Life is Sweet

      They told you life is long
      Be thankful when it’s done
      Don’t ask for more
      You should be grateful
      But I tell you life is short
      Be thankful because before you know
      It will be over
      ‘Cause life is sweet
      And life is also very short
      Your life is sweet
      — Natalie Merchant, Life Is Sweet

      The very first time I saw the VH1 Storytellers video for this song I was getting dressed in a hotel room in California preparing for a busy day on a business trip. By all accounts it was a day of hopefulness and adventure. With the lyrics running in my head, it became the soundtrack forever associated with a tragic event in American history for me. That was the day that Columbine happened. I’ve been wrestling the song back from that event ever since.

      There are people who will go to great lengths to apply their own brand of miserable to the world. But life can be beautiful if we offer a different perspective. We may not have as many days, or as many good days, as we’d want out of life. But the gift is there for us to celebrate should we take the time to unwrap it.

      Returning from a business trip last night through Washington DC, flight again delayed and overbooked, as they all seem to be nowadays, I glanced at the television monitors showing rolling footage of another tragedy, this one the Titan submarine that imploded on a Titanic dive. We all know that life is short, and the untimely deaths of people making the most of their lives can be shocking. Perhaps that’s why everyone slows down when passing an accident scene, or tunes in when breaking news occurs. Each day offers the opportunity to affirm our beliefs in the darkest nature of humanity or the very best within us. What do we focus on in the moment?

      Memento mori. Carpe diem. We know the soundtrack. Dance with life while the music is playing.

    • The Magic of Applied Attention

      “We’re all going to die, all of us, what a circus! That alone should make us love each other but it doesn’t. We are terrorized and flattened by trivialities, we are eaten up by nothing.” — Charles Bukowski

      There is a Persian lime tree growing in a large pot on the sunny deck behind my house. This spring there were more than a hundred blossoms on this tree, each developing into tiny fruit that promised a bumper crop of limes. But after a particularly angry thunder storm and torrential downpour dozens of those tiny fruits scattered the deck, their tart potential over before they really began. While mourning the loss of so may limes, I took solace in the dozens of fruit still developing on the tree. It seems the tree had culled itself that it might focus on the ripe potential of the fruit that remained.

      We each bear so much in our lifetime, holding on to things we ought to shed to focus on the essential few. It’s okay to let go of the trivial, that we might nurture the truly important things in our lives. Letting go is painful, but not as painful as diminishing our best work by carrying more than we should.

      Little by little,
      as you left their voice behind,
      the stars began to burn
      through the sheets of clouds,
      and there was a new voice
      which you slowly
      recognized as your own,
      that kept you company
      as you strode deeper and deeper
      into the world,
      determined to do
      the only thing you could do —
      determined to save
      the only life that you could save.
      — Mary Oliver, The Journey

      The night after the thunderstorm, I spent an evening with friends, throwing axes at a target drawn on a wooden wall and building fragile wooden castles in the air (Jenga). There is a unique strategy for each, naturally, being so very different from each other in practice. But there are also similarities. Besides each pursuit using wood, it was the act of applied attention that is common to both. To be good at either you must simply get out of your own head and focus on successfully completing the task at hand. One might utilize this in every pursuit, from writing to navigating any of the essential tasks that fill one’s day.

      We ought to cherish our time together, forgetting the trivial affronts that life throws at us. We ought to find our own voice in a world full of people waiting for us to shut up that they may say something clever. We ought to direct our attention inward, to the ripe potential of our own ideas, calling us to truth and clarity. We know, deep down, that we won’t survive this, but if we give ourselves the time to focus, we may just yet produce something substantial anyway.

    • On Father’s Day

      Father’s Day means something different when you’re a father. You learn to view your own father(s) through a different lens. After all, parenthood and marriage change us, and how we react to such changes has a profound impact on everyone within the nuclear family. Most would agree that to sire children is the easy part, but it doesn’t make one a father. You have to earn that part through presence and perseverance.

      My bride points out that Mother’s Day is not for the person who is the mother, but for that person’s mother. It surely applies to fathers as well. When you’re a parent, it never should be about you, only those you care for and protect. Nobody said it would be easy, let alone about us. It’s never really been about us anyway. Parenthood teaches this more than anything. Living for others makes us good humans, not just good parents, don’t you think?

      My own fathers, and I count two as fathers, weren’t fully ready for the role but did the best they could with the opportunity. I try to honor the best in both of them in my interactions with others, especially my own children. You become aware that many don’t rise to meet the role, and appreciate those who do. The ego truly is the enemy when it comes to being a great father. You know one when you meet one, and do what you can to be one.

      Father’s Day means something entirely different when your father slips away from you. Dementia, death, obligation or indifference are all forms of slipping away. Eventually something pulls our fathers away from us. Once you’ve experienced this, being fully present with our fathers while we have the opportunity seems the only way to truly honor and thank them for being a part of our lives.

      Happy Father’s Day.

    • The World Lies Waiting

      “Between the wish and the thing the world lies waiting.“ — Cormac McCarthy, All the Pretty Horses

      “The world is quite ruthless in selecting between the dream and the reality, even where we will not.” — Cormac McCarthy, All the Pretty Horses

      When those who have achieved mastery in their craft leave this world, what are we to do but reflect on their work? But something else stirs in their passing: Memento mori. A whispered reminder that we too will slip away one day, work and dreams of what might be be damned. It’s now or never, friend. Carpe diem.

      This is the urgency of living. This is the call to produce that which must be finished in our time. Between the wish and the thing the world lies waiting. But the world deals in reality, not dreams. We must realize the best in us through our actions.

      We must make the most of our days.

    • Observations From a 20K Day

      Sunday is supposed to be a day of rest, and I’d planned to do just that. There shall be no hiking or waterfall chasing for you, I told myself. But when you believe that we aren’t built to be sedentary beings, eventually those rigid thoughts of who we ought to be evolve into action. I wrapped my mind around 20,000 steps as a goal for the day, no matter what. What is the first rule with any goal? Putting ourselves in the best position to achieve that goal.

      The path to a 20K day really began a few years back, when I decided I was going to buy a push mower and walk the lawn instead of driving around on it. Would it be nice to sit on a cushy seat with a cup holder? Of course! But my work has me sitting entirely too much already. Mowing, trimming and leaf blowing the yard easily knocks off 4000 steps in roughly an hour. Is that the equivalent of hiking a 4000 foot mountain? Of course not, but it’s a starting point for an active lifestyle, and a head-start towards my activity goal for the day.

      I’ve hit 20K just doing yard work, but a change of scenery was in order. On a beautiful Sunday afternoon there were many choices available, but I opted for the local rail trail. As with beaches, I favor the rail trail when few people venture onto it, during snow or light rain, in the early morning or dead of winter. The rail trail in the middle of the day during peak season is an entirely different experience.

      A rail trail is popular because you’re safely removed from automobile traffic, but there are other hazards to consider. As on a highway, one must skate one’s lane and be predictable to avoid collisions. Hoards of cyclists, joggers and walkers descend on the trail, making it near impossible to be on a spot where there isn’t someone in your line of sight. e-bike Andretti’s zip past at breakneck speed, and clumps of independent teenagers on bicycles ride towards you shoulder-to-shoulder leaving you the choice of standing your ground or stepping aside (there’s magic in the moment they realize that you’ve—responsibly—put the choice back on them).

      In the off-season on this rail trail, I would immerse myself in the nature around me. There’s surely a lot more to witness when sharing the path with hundreds of people on a long walk. Inevitably, you begin to people watch. Humans are quirky. Fashion on the path runs from traditional breathable fabrics to bold statements of individuality. Of all the travelers, the e-bikers seemed to be the most outlandish, fully kitted with fishing poles or picnic baskets, small dogs poking out of backpacks, and fat tires announcing they’re about to pass you from 100 meters away. It was an impressive display, and reminded me of the parade of custom golf carts seen at 55 plus developments and campgrounds around the country. But I was here for walking, not powered transportation. There’s relative simplicity on a rail trail: you walk one direction for as long as you want, then you turn around and walk back.

      The thing about goal-setting is that we know the obstacles before we begin, but we don’t always account for them in our bold declaration that we’re going to do this thing. The only things that get in the way of completing a good goal are available time, resources (like health) and willpower. Hitting fitness goals usually comes down to simply beginning and not stopping until we’ve met our objective. On a day of rest I decided to hit 20K, not exactly a bold number but high enough that it required my time and attention. It also served as a reminder that I’m not ready to retire to an e-bike and backpack dog just yet. There’s still so much to do.

    • Where Would You Linger?

      A question came up over dinner with close friends and active world travelers: “Where do you want to go?” for which there are naturally a full evening’s worth of answers. I think that we had the question wrong all along. Perhaps “Where would you linger?” might have been more enlightening. The value isn’t in seeing a place, it’s immersing yourself there long enough to get to know it. And, just maybe, for the place to get to know you too.

      Would you choose to stay in a place long enough to learn its ways and figure out the language and tendencies of the locals? How else would you get to know it? An Instagram photo taken at the same spot everyone else takes there’s is nothing more than evidence that we were ever there ourselves. Is that enough? It says nothing of the experience of being there, let alone how we interacted with that place. Seeing hoards of people charge in to take the same selfie before heading off to the next photo op informs. It’s okay to be the tourist, but isn’t it better to stick around to enjoy the quiet with the locals when the last bus or cruise ship departs?

      The frenetic, “sampler pack” travel, favored by many, and realized through a bus tour or a cruise, is a good example. Being part of a group that drops in for a few hours, sees a few things, buys a souvenir and ships off to the next place, allows you to see many things you otherwise might not see on a tight vacation schedule. And this has some merit. That sampler pack is designed to check boxes and quickly give you a very general lay of the land. When you only have a few days, isn’t it (sometimes) better to fill it with as much as possible? The underlying message is that if you love a place you can always go back to it. How many do?

      Is modern travel inherently designed to allow people to keep up with others at a cocktail party? That may be too narrow and cynical a view. Shared experience bonds us in some ways, if only on a surface level. It’s a starting point from which we can go deeper if we wish to. Travel means something different to each of us, but the underlying fear of missing out (FOMO) seems to drive much of the industry. After all, bucket lists are real, and life is short, and available PTO is even shorter. So by all means, we should go see the Eiffel Tower, the Grand Canyon and the Colosseum while we can. Checking boxes in such a way fills bucket lists… but is it fulfilling?

      When I think back on the places I’ve been in this world, I think about the things I missed the first time around and feel a longing to return. With every trip, there’s a lingering feeling of a place not fully realized on the first go-around. It’s natural to want to return again. Do we wonder how we’d feel if we’d simply stuck around longer?

      Great questions prompt great conversation, but also reflection. As with travel, a great question can open us up to all sorts of possibility only partially answered over a few drinks. Great questions linger even after the evening is over. Instead of always wondering “what’s next?”, we might try “what of now?”, and see where it leads us next.

      After dinner and all the talk of places nearly (but never fully) exhausted, the question shifted to, “So, what are you doing this weekend?”, which prompted my response of not very much at all. Isn’t it funny that all the wanderlust revealed in a few hours together ended with such a statement? I think it points to quietly favoring savoring: A designed lifestyle choice, not general apathy towards getting out there in the world. A sense of belonging derived from being present and realizing the full potential of ourselves in that place and time. That’s what filling a bucket really means.

    • Let’s Begin

      It’s our time to make a move
      It’s our time to make amends
      It’s our time to break the rules
      Let’s begin
      — X Ambassadors, Renegades

      If you want to feel hope for the future, go to a ceremony honoring High School graduates awarded their scholarships. I was awestruck hearing their accomplishments over the last four years, much of which was endured during and in the aftermath of a pandemic when mental health and questions about the future of leadership in this world were very much on display elsewhere. The future, at least in that room, looked very bright indeed.

      Our stories are constantly evolving. Sitting in that room listening to the brief biographies of those kids, with no stake in the game myself, was one of the most enlightening nights I’ve had in a long time. Surely it made me question my own productivity over the same duration. How do we see greatness and not want to have some of it for ourselves? The thing is, greatness is earned, not taken. We may reach higher still.

      Carpe diem: Seize the day. These words are forever associated with a fictional high school class in another time and place. Isn’t it something when you witness it in real life? It’s all around us, hidden in the quiet resolve of people getting things done. Given the same amount of time in a day, we each choose what to do with the minutes.

      It’s easy to see a group of high achievers and feel optimistic. It’s also easy to question what we’ve been doing with our own time, and perhaps feel a bit of an underachiever by comparison. It’s essential to remember in these moments that comparison is the thief of joy. Let us instead be inspired by those reaching for greatness and help them find the way. Greatness isn’t a destination, it’s a never-ending pursuit of mastery in one’s chosen path. If that pursuit is never-ending, it also means it’s always beginning. As in, here we go again. Shouldn’t that realization excite us?

    • Stories, and How We Interpret Them

      “Be careful how you interpret the world; it is like that.” — Erich Heller

      “We are defined by the stories we tell ourselves.” — Tony Robbins

      Our beliefs do have a way of defining us, don’t they? Tell a story enough times and it begins to feel like our truth. Stories about who we are, the type of lifestyle we live, the work we do and the people we spend our time with. They usually have similar stories to ours, don’t they?

      Listen to other storytellers. This can be dangerous and disruptive. Wars have begun over stories that don’t jibe with another. Entire cultures have been crushed by stories. There are whispered cries in history for the injustice and pain of a bad story, implemented. An entire lifetime can be wasted when hooked to the wrong story.

      There’s friction in changing stories. How do you shake off the grip of long-held beliefs? The first step is to get out of the echo chamber of reinforcement. Digest new information, find new places, reach beyond what is comfortable.

      Given the stakes, it’s fair to question what we believe to be true in the world. It’s fair to choose to change our story. This is where boldness comes into our story. To be bold is to step away from our previous self and begin the long climb to a better view.

      The trap is to try to pull other people along who haven’t changed their own story just yet. Rarely does another soul want to hear that their story is wrong. Telling people anything is a sure road to resentment and conflict. Let them see instead. When we see we begin to change ourselves, and step towards a new story previously unimagined.

      As with any great story, the first draft is nothing to celebrate. We don’t arrive in this world perfect in every way, no matter what our mother tells us. But we must keep editing. With time and patience and more than a little effort, eventually we’ll arrive at our masterpiece. At least that’s the story I tell myself.

    • The Self-Delusional Effectiveness of Texting Combined With Literally Any Other Activity

      We’ve all felt the pull of the notification. The sound triggers something deep inside us, call it fear of missing out or the overwhelming desire to be a part of something in this moment, or maybe boredom with whatever you’re currently doing. I don’t really care, unless you’re immersed in adult-level activities that require your full attention. Things like doing heart surgery or landing an airplane, or maybe something more common like participating in a serious conversation or driving a two-ton automobile at terminal velocity.

      Whatever that activity is, we aren’t as good at multitasking as we think we are. It’s usually completely obvious to everyone else not currently nose down in their own phone what the multitasking texter is up to. And we all want the other person to knock it off immediately and join us in the real world. Call me old-fashioned, but I like people who focus on the essential. Professionals and fully-functional adults stay focused on their most important tasks, while amateurs spread that focus way too thin.

      I bet even Steve Jobs would have shaken his head in disbelief had he time travelled to our present. Try holding a meaningful conversation with a distracted texter Mr. Jobs, before we fully celebrate the computer in every pocket. The future always looks bright when you’re inventing the cool technology, the trick is to put the bumpers on so the amateurs don’t roll over into someone else’s dream. This is why I welcome self-driving cars, if only to put a stop to the chuckleheads absently drifting back and forth, slowing way down and speeding way up in a not-so-subtle attempt to still get from here to there while writing War and Peace (or perhaps simply watching cat videos). Maybe technology will save us from technology in the future? I hope we survive long enough to get there.

    • The Beauty of Our Discoveries

      “I hadn’t done drugs since sniffing Lady Esquire shoe polish when I was fifteen. I didn’t need to. I felt the pinch of wonder. I felt everything sharply, the people we met, the sensation of being in a body, of eating and drinking. I knew there was darkness in the world, but I was sure it would not overpower us; rather, we would let ourselves be overpowered by the beauty of our discoveries as we traveled through this world.” — Bono, Surrender

      A lovely expression, this pinch of wonder, and something I wish we all shared. Too many seek distraction and escape over wonder, but let that not be us. When we lean into the life of an explorer, every encounter becomes an opportunity for illumination. Understanding of the world and our place in it can be a slow dawn for those of us not living the rock star lifestyle, but life doesn’t have to come at us in bold strokes for us to find the color. We simply have to be open to it.

      A friend texted over the weekend, thrilled with the travel they’ve witnessed through my photographs, and wanting more. I confess to wanting more myself, even as I look around at the work to be done right at home. We never really finish building a nest, we just fly further and further from it in our quest to see what all the fuss is about. Not being a wealthy rock star, time and money remain considerations for strategic trips abroad. We simply can’t do everything, and really, why would we want to? Life isn’t about chasing the illusive, it’s about building something tangible: understanding, purpose, momentum… beautiful.

      What washes over us when we encounter such things as beauty and magic? Do these encounters feed the fire for more exploration, or do they finally offer satisfaction? Are we ever really satiated? As if enough beauty and magic could exist in a world such as this? I believe we find something in ourselves that was aching to reach the surface in such moments, something beyond our present selves, something drawn from us as we’re pulled towards that which we seek. Magnetic momentum, if you will, pulling us from our shell into the world.

      Bono uses his fame to build a better world, framed with understanding and empathy. It’s a noble pursuit enabled by the thrill people feel to be around someone larger than life. We might do the same, perhaps not to the same scale, but with the same zeal. We might each be ambassadors, not judges. We might be builders creating something better with each encounter. In a way, that’s a rock star way of looking at life: amplified and actively strumming, making our soundtrack. The beauty of our discoveries arranged into a life well-lived.