Alexandersmap

    Category: Culture

    • Avoiding Popular

      Google most popular restaurant in the United States and you’ll find McDonalds holding the top spot, followed by Starbucks. One might ask, what is the criteria for being called a restaurant? Apparently it’s merely serving food. If one were to ponder this a bit longer, one might then ask, what’s it mean to be popular anyway?

      Beware what you seek. Being popular is a trap set for adolescents, celebrities and politicians. Most of us grow out of it, while some remain forever trapped in the amber of opinion. It’s an empty promise that they’ll love you forever, and it’s a fickle love. The viable alternative is to go your own way. That’s where the most interesting people dance with the universe. And interesting makes for a better life than popular ever could.

    • Listen Carefully, Spend Wisely

      Colm Doherty: I just have this tremendous sense of time slipping away from me, Pádraic. And I think I need to spend the time I have left thinking and composing. Just trying not to listen to any more of the dull things that you have to say for yourself.
      Pádraic Súlleabhain: Are you dying?
      Colm Doherty: No, I’m not dying.
      Pádraic Súlleabhain: But then you’ve loads of time.
      Colm Doherty: For chatting?
      Pádraic Súlleabhain: Aye.
      Colm Doherty: For aimless chatting?
      Pádraic Súlleabhain: Not for aimless chatting. For good, normal chatting.
      Colm Doherty: So, we’ll keep aimlessly chatting, and me life’ll keep dwindling. And in twelve years, I’ll die with nothing to show for it, bar the chats I’ve had with a limited man, is that it?
      — Martin McDonagh, The Banshees of Inisherin

      There’s a darkness in this film that is borne of desperation. The characters react to the bleak reality of their lives in different ways. Colm and Pádraic’s sister, Siobhan Súilleabháin, desperately seek something beyond their relentlessly trivial existence. Pádraic sees nothing at all wrong with living out his days one exactly the same as the one before. And this raises the central question of the film, one we all faced at the height of the pandemic: what are we actually doing with our time? Is this all there is for us, or might we create something meaningful that lives beyond us before we pass? These are questions many of us wrestle with, while others contentedly choose more of the same. We each reconcile our brief dance with the world in our own way.

      These questions are timeless, even if we aren’t. Indeed, this temporary shelf life drives us to find answers. Our old friend Thoreau famously observed in the beginning pages of Walden that “the mass of men live lives of quiet desperation”. We bear the weight of these questions still, amplified by that realization that time is slipping away. Memento mori, friends. Carpe diem.

      The thing is, we shouldn’t despair at the thought. There ought to be freedom in that realization. We have an opportunity to amplify our living, and make it resonate in our time. We have the opportunity to create something that lives beyond ourselves, something that ripples. Alternatively, we might simply live. Neither choice is wrong, unless we’re quietly telling ourselves it is. The answer for each of us is to listen carefully, and spend wisely.

    • We Are Growing Volcanoes

      “Countless things that humanity acquired in earlier stages, but so feebly and embryonically that nobody could perceive this acquisition, suddenly emerge into the light much later... All of us harbor concealed gardens and plantings; and, to use another metaphor, we are, all of us, growing volcanoes that approach the hour of their eruption; but how near or distant that is, nobody knows—not even God.” — Fredrich Nietzsche, The Gay Science

      “I prefer to understand the rare human beings of an age as suddenly emerging late ghosts of past cultures and their powers—as atavisms of a people and its mores: that way one really can understand a little about them. Now they seem strange, rare, extraordinary; and whoever feels these powers in himself must nurse, defend, honor, and cultivate them against another world that resists them, until he becomes either a great human being or a mad and eccentric one—or perishes early.” — Fredrich Nietzsche, The Gay Science

      Most of us feel the changes within ourselves, pushing us beyond our previous boundaries. Change is uncomfortable yet necessary, for aren’t we meant to grow? Nurtured or resisted by the host, we learn over time. We are, each of us, growing volcanoes.

      The thing is, the rest of the world doesn’t like volcanoes very much. Who wants volatility and fire? Volcanoes are disruptive. Volcanoes are change agents that turn the landscape upside down. The world wants tranquility and sameness. The world wants us to remain dormant.

      Forget the world. Volcanoes are builders. They create islands where there were once only waves. They create mountains where there was once only thin air. For all the fuss at the time, it isn’t until things cool down a bit that we see just what was created. For the world to grow we volcanoes need to tap into what’s deep inside.

      The very process of becoming is inherently dynamic and disruptive. Nobody feels this more than the volcano. But we must let our creative forces flow or we’re doomed to explode. History is filled with explosive characters who made a real mess of things in their time. We aren’t here to make a mess, we’re here to build something bigger than ourselves. When we let ourselves become what we want to be, that pressure is relieved. Flow is creative expression released. The trick is to flow, not blow.

    • To Live a Life That’s Full

      “It is nothing to die. It is frightful not to live.” ― Victor Hugo, Les Misérables

      And now the end is here
      And so I face that final curtain
      My friend I’ll make it clear
      I’ll state my case, of which I’m certain
      I’ve lived a life that’s full
      I traveled each and every highway
      And more, much more
      I did it, I did it my way
      — Frank Sinatra, My Way

      At a holiday party not very far from Times Square, New York, a few of us found ourselves in conversation with a large man with a large ego. He was rattling off his successes in life, his conquests in love, his options for the future. He would be the one singing My Way and believing it all applied to him. And maybe it does.

      I happen to love Sinatra’s song, My Way. We used to put it on the juke box at the Worthen in Lowell, Massachusetts late in the night (back when they had a juke box) and serenade each other in youthful optimism. We believed we were already living life our way and were poised to launch ourselves into life to do big My Way things. Life teaches you compromise and concession and sometimes knocks you down a peg or two. When things inevitably go awry, does this mean we aren’t living a full life?

      To live a life that’s full means to steer purposefully towards the dreams that stir our soul while adjusting our course and the set of our sails as life reminds us that we don’t live in a controlled environment. Highs and lows and the occasional nasty storm are going to have their way with us, stall our progress, pull us well off course now and then, and generally take that My Way bravado and throw it out the window. But still we may persist.

      The question to ask ourselves every day on our journey to live a life that’s full is, full of what? To be meaningful, our lives must be filled with purpose and progression, contribution and growth. We grow into a full life, not by traveling a straight line from here to there, but by navigating the hazards of living. Sometimes we choose wisely, and sometimes we find ourselves on the rocks. It is nothing to die, but surely it’s frightful not to live. The only viable choice is to patch ourselves up as best we can and keep going.

      But going where? That which seemed so very important in one stage of life seems less so later. Conversely, things we once never considered seem more important now. Life is change and adaptation. If status and a list of conquests are especially important to one person, for another it might be achieving mastery of playing an instrument or in writing. It may simply mean being there for others from now until the end.

      Sometimes, we have some say in the matter. Mostly, our lives are ours alone to live, yet we aren’t living solely for ourselves. Nobody said it would be easy, friend. But with reflection and purpose we might just find we live our days well enough that we can say with relative confidence and more than a little irony that we did indeed, despite it all, do it our way. That shouldn’t be frightening but, just maybe, a little thrilling.

    • Reacting to Outside Influences

      If we’re lucky, we place ourselves in environments that cater to our best life. We surround ourselves with trees and wildlife and safe places to walk with our thoughts. If we’re lucky, we gently place ourselves far from ambient noise and light. Traffic and leaf blowers and well-meaning spotlights shining bright beams into nothingness all grab our attention when we aren’t conditioned to ignore these things.

      Now and then I find myself in a hotel next to a highway, and listen to the steady escalation as the world awakens and drives from place-to-place. This should be unremarkable, and yet I just remarked on it simply because it’s different for me. Had I simply gotten a room on the other side of the hotel perhaps I wouldn’t have noticed at all. But since that isn’t the case, I make peace with the noise and celebrate the temporary nature of it. It’s not my noise forever, only for a couple of days.

      The thing is, we are as much a product of our environments as we are of our internal dialogue. What we experience builds us, teaches us love or hatred, tolerance or bias, acceptance or impatience. Living in a frictionless state sounds blissful to some, and like slow death to others. We choose how we react, and that reaction informs us about our future state. Funny, the way it is. Each reaction sets up the next interaction, when we react yet again in whatever way we do.

      Life is a series of reactions to outside influences. We chafe at some, embrace others, and build a life out of a chain of reactions and decisions along the way. Does this place us in a joyful state or a state of misery? And how will we handle the answer? We are what we repeatedly do, this is true, but we’re also what we decide not to do or accept as our fate in the moment. We each have the opportunity to choose wisely and to learn from previous mistakes. Like staying on the back side of the hotel, facing the highway, we learn lessons that might be applied in the future.

    • Learning of Lagom

      A work friend recently shared a word previously unfamiliar to me, lagom, which I found delightful. Simply put, lagom is a philosophy of living in balance. This article describes it perfectly:

      “Lagom translates as “just the right amount.” It means knowing when enough is enough, and trying to find balance and moderation rather than constantly grasping for more. Lagom is that feeling of contentment we all get when we have all that we need to make us comfortable. — Jonny Thomson”

      The author points out that there are two distinct meanings derived from lagom. In the first, it’s more about playing fairly with others. Don’t hoard everything for yourself. Share and be generous. In the second, lagom is our internal viewpoint or philosophy. Live in balance and moderation for a happier life. Being present and savoring what we have instead of always crying out for more.

      Most of us strive to live in balance, play fairly, consume in moderation and generally be a good person. These truths are universal. The thing is, we can live a life grounded in lagom without ever knowing the word. But now that we do, how does it feel rolling off the tongue? Awkward? New words often are. But the meaning behind the word ought to feel quite natural.

    • Learn to Reawaken

      “The millions are awake enough for physical labor; but only one in a million is awake enough for effective intellectual exertion, only one in a hundred millions to a poetic or divine life. To be awake is to be alive. I have never yet met a man who was quite awake. How could I have looked him in the face? We must learn to reawaken and keep ourselves awake, not by mechanical aids, but by an infinite expectation of the dawn, which does not forsake us in our soundest sleep. I know of no more encouraging fact than the unquestionable ability of man to elevate his life by a conscious endeavor.” — Henry David Thoreau, Walden

      How rare is the poetic or divine life today? It’s hard to say. In talking to people, there is a distinct lack of engagement in the workforce. A lack of inspiration for putting yourself into things, no passion for the work, a going through of the motions that must be reconciled. If one in a hundred million souls were sparked by the poetic or divine in Thoreau’s time, I wonder what the ratio is now?

      Do we linger in a post-pandemic stupor? Is it a generational change as the kids raised with iPhones and social media and gaming become the primary fuel that powers economic and cultural life? Is it older generations, churned and manipulated, poked and prodded, finally having enough? Is it the relentlessly obvious climate change impacting everything while seemingly nothing is done about it? It makes you want to sail away sometimes, especially when you see how much fun those who did are having. But there’s inspired work to be done still, and clearly a need for more of us to lift others.

      We must learn to reawaken and keep ourselves awake. We each have purpose in this lifetime that must be fulfilled. To do otherwise is to live in quiet desperation, as Henry would point out. But how do we keep ourselves awake in such a noisy, conflicted and demanding world? He showed the way, didn’t he? Walk away from the noise, find a quiet place to contemplate your place in the world and pay attention to what happens to you. He didn’t travel very far himself (his friends would take the short walk to visit him, and he them). Mostly, solitude is turning off the electronic babysitter and the insistent chatter of the uninspired and listening to yourself. Writing it all down surely helps.

      Thoreau has always been my grounding rod. When I become disenchanted or feel that quiet desperation stirring inside or have simply had enough of the loud talkers in my world I return to Thoreau’s work, or visit his grave, or take a pilgrimage to Walden. He remains a voice of reason in an unreasonable world, speaking universal truths like so many time travelers. Their spark forever awake, forever informing, forever a beacon to light the way even as their physical selves forever rest.

      From where do we derive hope and an infinite expectation of the dawn? Answers are inclined to find us. Don’t let its whisper be drowned out in the noise.

    • The Day After Twain’s Birthday

      “Annihilation has no terrors for me, because I have already tried it before I was born -a hundred million years -and I have suffered more in an hour, in this life, than I remember to have suffered in the whole hundred million years put together. There was a peace, a serenity, an absence of all sense of responsibility, an absence of worry, an absence of care, grief, perplexity; and the presence of a deep content and unbroken satisfaction in that hundred million years of holiday which I look back upon with a tender longing and with a grateful desire to resume, when the opportunity comes.” ― Mark Twain, The Autobiography of Mark Twain

      Since I completely missed Mark Twain’s birthday yesterday (surely he didn’t mind), I thought a short post on the day after would be appropriate. We all ought to spend more time with clever people—people who don’t just say clever things but people who look at the world in a certain way that help us see what was right in front of us all along. Twain was certainly clever in that way.

      Dead now longer than he was alive, I imagine he’s made the most of the opportunity for peace and serenity that comes from passing from this world. I’m not particularly ready to join him, but take his words to heart. We weren’t alive far longer that we have been, and so it will be on the other side. We ought to be at peace with that, while using this unique opportunity to live as boldly as we can. Happy belated Birthday, Mr. Twain.

    • Thoughts on Christine McVie Passing

      I never did believe in miracles
      But I’ve a feeling it’s time to try
      I never did believe in the ways of magic
      But I’m beginning to wonder why
      — Fleetwood Mac, You Make Loving Fun

      Fleetwood Mac was seemingly everywhere in the late 1970’s, and I was just old enough to appreciate what I was hearing, but young enough that the complex emotions rolled out in the lyrics of the individual band members went way over my head (pun intended). Most of the attention was on the rest of the band, but Christine McVie was quietly contributing a huge catalog of hits herself. She passed away yesterday at the striking age of 79. Why is 79 striking? Because it’s both older than a rock star is generally remembered as and younger than a person ought to be when they leave us. Life is indeed short.

      A few years ago I started developing a list of favorite Fleetwood Mac songs that were going to be the basis of a blog post. I reviewed it and put it off, feeling it was mostly a greatest hits collection and not a deep enough dive into their very best songs. But the thing is, Fleetwood Mac’s very best songs also happened to be massive hits. What do you do with that but accept it for what it was? The right mix of talent and chemistry and timing thrown together in a recording studio when seemingly everyone was ready for the message they were delivering. Musical magic: somewhat overproduced but sounding ridiculously delicious.

      I don’t hold you down
      Maybe that’s why you’re around
      But if I’m the one you love
      Think about me
      — Fleetwood Mac, Think About Me

      I never did see Fleetwood Mac in concert. By the time I was old enough to start going to concerts myself I was on to bands like U2, The Clash and Duran Duran. We shove aside the familiar in favor of whatever is next as we come of age. But we never forget our foundation, do we? Eventually we recognize that it’s as much a part of our identity as our favorite teachers growing up. There’s something to this soundtrack of our lives business. At their most silently powerful, songs anchor us to a certain time in our lives and can unite us in a time too many are divided. McVie, together with the rhythm section of Mick Fleetwood and her ex-husband John McVie were in turn the anchors of that band.

      We all know that artists fade away in time, but their songs remain. The same week that Christine McVie passed Irene Cara also left this world. It’s like the early 1980’s are disappearing before our eyes like that scene in Back to the Future when Marty’s family begins fading from the photo and then Marty himself begins to fade away as the implications of going back in time are realized. But that’s life, isn’t it? We hold the line in our time and give the reigns to the next generation. We all fade away eventually. What remains is the work that we did in our time here: raising families, building businesses, creating art or crafting ridiculously delicious sound worms.

    • See the Signs and Know Their Meaning

      “Two students had studied for many years with a wise old master. One day the master said to them, “Students, the time has come for you to go out into the world. Your life there will be felicitous if you find in it all things shining.” The students left the master with a mixture of sadness and excitement, and each of them went a separate way. Many years later they met up by chance. They were happy to see one another again, and each was excited to learn how the other’s life had gone. Said the first to the second, glumly, “I have learned to see many shining things in the world, but alas I remain unhappy. For I also find many sad and disappointing things, and I feel I have failed to heed the master’s advice. Perhaps I will never be filled with happiness and joy, because I am simply unable to find all things shining.” Said the second to the first, radiant with happiness, “All things are not shining, but all the shining things are.” — Hubert Dreyfus, All Things Shining: Reading the Western Classics to Find Meaning in a Secular Age

      All Things Shining, linked above, is a heavy lift in places. When you wade deeply into western literature with a heavy emphasis on Homer, Dante, Jesus and Melville’s Moby Dick, you’re going for a deep dive. Nobody said delving into nihilism, polytheism, and monotheism would be a page turner. I’m the better for having read it, but earned the finish that I’ve just given you freely. For it ended with this delightful epilogue, casting a glow that lingers.

      We may live a life full of routine and tedium, nastiness and fear of the unknown. We may also live a full life overflowing with ritual and wonder, generosity and openness. The lens we view the world through matters greatly in determining how full this brief dance really is. Some of my closest acquaintances choose to complain about everything in their life. They aren’t leaving a trail of joy behind them. Other acquaintances are relentlessly optimistic about the world and their place in it. They lift the room with their presence. Surely, not everything is wonderful, but many things are. What do we focus on?

      These are the days you might fill with laughter until you break
      These days you might feel a shaft of light
      Make its way across your face
      And when you do you’ll know how it was meant to be
      See the signs and know their meaning
      It’s true
      You’ll know how it was meant to be
      Hear the signs and know they’re speaking to you, to you
      — 10,000 Maniacs, These Are Days

      These are days we’ll remember. Focusing on the joyful bits isn’t an escape from the harshness of the world, it’s an acknowledgement that there’s two sides to the coin in life. This isn’t putting our head in the sand, for joy coexists with sad and disappointing in this world. We can fixate on unrelenting misery and darkness, or flip the coin and give our attention to all the shining things in this lifetime. The choice has always been ours.