Alexandersmap

    Category: Culture

    • The Beautiful Changes

      One wading a Fall meadow finds on all sides
      The Queen Anne’s Lace lying like lilies
      On water; it glides
      So from the walker, it turns
      Dry grass to a lake, as the slightest shade of you
      Valleys my mind in fabulous blue Lucernes.

      The beautiful changes as a forest is changed
      By a chameleon’s tuning his skin to it;
      As a mantis, arranged
      On a green leaf, grows
      Into it, makes the leaf leafier, and proves
      Any greenness is deeper than anyone knows.

      Your hands hold roses always in a way that says
      They are not only yours; the beautiful changes
      In such kind ways,
      Wishing ever to sunder
      Things and things’ selves for a second finding, to lose
      For a moment all that it touches back to wonder.
      — Richard Wilbur, The Beautiful Changes

      Emotionally, logically even, I’ve come back to my home recently. I never left, really, but it feels more like home as we’ve spruced up the place during the pandemic. We strayed in our minds a few times, seeking more adventurous living, yet we always return to this place. That blanket of familiar is comforting, even as it acts as a foundation for more adventurous acts. Blankets might feel suffocating at times, if we feel that our whole life is encumbered beneath. But isn’t that blanket simply our identity? We are what we surround ourselves with. That in turn and time either feels right or it doesn’t. The choice was ours all along. And so it will be.

      We each enter into long relationships that evolve over time. Live with someone for a few decades and you join the club of understanding. The same can be said for the very place we live as well. The landscape changes as the community changes. The very homes we live in change too, as things and people and pets come and go from our lives, and as we ourselves grow older. Life is change. Change can be untenable or wonderful, sometimes at the very same time.

      We each write our stories, choosing what to add or edit out of that hero’s journey. Characters come and go, the scenes change, so too does the author. Everything changes over time, and we live with these changes or reject them. To think we can control anything but our reaction to change is folly. But we can wrap ourselves in our identity, and let this be our guide as we face whatever comes next. Sometimes that next is beautiful.

    • The Point of Intersection

      “When two or more lines meet at a common point, they are known as intersecting lines. The point at which they cross each other is known as the point of intersection.” — Cuemath

      Do you believe in coincidence? Last week while driving north from New York I saw a billboard for Heaven’s Door American whiskey, which was co-created by Bob Dylan. Literally the next song on the radio was Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door, which was either algorithm trickery applied to SiriusXM for the benefit of the few drivers listening to that exact channel in that exact spot at that exact time, or more likely, coincidence. It was a notable (to me) moment on an otherwise normal drive.

      A few weeks back, while hiking in the White Mountains, I happened to look up at the exact moment the two sons of a close friend were descending from Mount Monroe. I recall seeing them out of the corner of my eye on the summit, but didn’t register that these were two people I knew quite well until I lingered a beat long enough chatting with another hiker to see them at that moment. This was our point of intersection on our individual trips around the sun.

      We all have these crossing points in our lives, running into someone we haven’t seen in years at a seemingly random place. We also have the just-misses, where we realize later that we were at the same place as someone else but never saw each other. Do we apply special meaning to one event, and another to the non-event? What do we make of coincidence when we bump into it?

      One way we might see it is to look at a trail map. Each trail eventually intersects with several others as it meanders on its way. Perhaps the individual trails bring you to entirely different places, but for that brief moment they’re the very same place on their point of intersection. Another step on either trail and that point is behind you, but if particularly notable we can still recall it for the rest of our hike. Meaning is derived not from the intersection but in what we feel about it in the moment.

      Each of us is charting our course through our individual lives, with a definite starting point and an uncertain end point. Our paths intersect at frequent or infrequent moments entirely based on fate. I once knew a married couple who met by chance as the future husband was moving a mattress and rested a beat longer than he might have on the sidewalk. The future wife made a comment and that point of intersection turned into the same path for the two of them. For them, that point of intersection became a starting point. I met that couple exactly once in my lifetime, and I don’t recall their names, only the story and one other thing: They were big Bob Dylan fans and even used one of his songs as their wedding song. I wonder what ever happened to them, but I bet I know what their favorite whiskey is.

    • Gratitude and Love

      “Cultivate the habit of being grateful for every good thing that comes to you, and to give thanks continuously. And because all things have contributed to your advancement, you should include all things in your gratitude.“ — Ralph Waldo Emerson

      We often forget how blessed we are. Counting blessings ought to be a daily activity. I suppose it is for some of us, while the rest of us are too busy juggling to linger with gratitude. Experts on such things as happiness suggest writing down what you’re grateful for at the end of each day. I’n not so bold as to call myself an expert on living happily, I just try to do it. It does seem logical that if we are what we focus on, focusing our attention on gratitude and the blessings in our lives surely seems more delightful than focusing on what’s missing. Acknowledge both; dwell in joy.

      Americans have this holiday of holidays: Thanksgiving. Some people aren’t really focused on thanks and gratitude on Thanksgiving, they’re just trying to pull of the logistics of the day. But this is the very best holiday of them all for many of us—not because of the day drinking and heaping plates of everything, but because we come together with the people we love the most. What’s lost on some Americans as we celebrate this coming together as family business is that much of the world does this gratitude and love thing every day of the year.

      Gratitude and love fill a void otherwise open to darker forces. Happy doesn’t need Thanksgiving, but giving thanks seems to lead towards happy. It’s a funny twist on words, I suppose, but also a more fulfilling way of living in this complicated and tragic world. A recipe for happiness, if you will. So whether you celebrate this particular holiday or not, we’re sending a nice helping of love, from our table to yours.

    • Stepping onto the Mastodon Path

      Admittedly, social media can be a dark place, pretending to be about community and connection, but really just an echo chamber of accusation, antagonism and positioning. It’s not a quiet conversation with friends sharing stories and pictures, yet that’s what we all signed up for. Or, if we’re being honest, was it to become an influencer? Being a voice of moderation doesn’t earn you followers, you must shout louder than the rest to get attention. And herein lies the problem.

      Alternatively, we might step away. Find a place that makes more sense. Wade into the waters of something new and see how it feels. To be fully alive means to experience change and make the most of it. Change isn’t so bad, it’s how we react to the possibility of change that scares people. We each ought to decide what to be and go be it.

      This blog is now linked to a Mastodon account. You can still find it on Twitter if you want to, at least until that platform implodes and sinks. That’s unlikely though, isn’t it? Too many people rely on doing the same easy thing every day. But diversifying the distribution of this blog seems logical to this writer. If nothing else, I’m calling my own bluff and embracing the unknown. And it was surely unfamiliar territory. At first glance, Mastodon was confusing. Blogging once felt confusing too. Going to a new job once felt confusing. There are plenty of blogs and YouTube videos to help make sense of it all.

      After lingering with it a few days, it seems a lonely place, comparatively, to Twitter or Facebook. Loneliness is also good for us, sometimes. It means we’re building something new, and eventually, together. Consider it an adventure. Isn’t it so? Like starting something new. That loneliness is a sign that we’ve stepped off the old block and are entering the wilderness. There’s nothing wrong with a bit of elbow room while we sort things out. The pioneers get all the streets named after them.

      Follow me on Mastodon, if you’d like. Currently @nhcarmichael@universeodon.com unless another server or instance tempts me. See what I mean? Different. But who wants the same thing all the time anyway? Let’s jump in, shall we?

    • On Veterans Day

      “I am the harvest of man’s stupidity. I am the fruit of the holocaust. I prayed like you to survive, but look at me now. It is over for us who are dead, but you must struggle, and will carry the memories all your life. People back home will wonder why you can’t forget.” — E.B. Sledge, With the Old Breed

      “So it came to pass that as he trudged from the place of blood and wrath his soul changed.”
      — Stephen Crane, The Red Badge of Courage

      I’m not a veteran of war. I chose a path that took me far from the battlefields of modern armies. I wonder at the courage of those who charged towards an almost certain death, thinking that perhaps they had something in them that is beyond my capacity to endure and fight another day. I suppose all of us blessed to have never fought in war are also given the curse of wondering just what we might have done under the same circumstances. May we and those we love never find out. May the world rise above the conflicts of mankind and bow to love instead. We have a long way to go.

      We learned to honor our veterans growing up. They fought in the big wars we learned about in history class. They were my uncles coming home again, not really speaking much about what they experienced. We read about war in books like All Quiet on the Western Front and think we understand what a veteran will never say. There’s a chasm there that humanity should never cross, and those who have been there and survived bring it back with them. Who are we to ask what it was like for them?

      If Memorial Day honors those who paid the ultimate price, Veterans Day honors those who came home again. On Veterans Day I think of the people in my life who served. Some were wounded, and some lived a lifetime shortened by Agent Orange or other demons hard to define. All carry something of themselves from that time in their lives that we can’t really understand not having been there with them.

      We are the sum of our experiences. Veterans have experienced a sum of things most of us will never understand. To wear a remembrance poppy or to thank someone for their service seems a small gesture, but when done with sincerity and grace, it’s noticed by those who sacrificed so much in their time. No, I’m not a veteran, but I will remember, honor and support those who were. Thank you.

    • Savoring Moderate Consumption

      “Thrift isn’t stinginess. It’s a cure for overconsumption.” — Stanley Tucci

      We are spiraling headfirst into the consumption holidays. In many ways it’s already begun with Halloween, didn’t it? Purchase one bag of candy more than we really need to, and suddenly the pants are a bit snugger than they were a few weeks ago. Autumn days are days to eat, drink and be merry. It’s a time to celebrate the harvest. Many of us take this a step too far—one “bite-sized” candy bar after another, washed down with a pumpkin spiced latte and the abandonment of all reason.

      Watching Stanley Tucci’s magnificent Searching for Italy, the episode that struck me most profoundly was Episode 8: Liguria in which he savors traditional Genoese pesto recipes and walks the barren cliffside olive plantations. This is not a place where you are burdened with such things as too many Thanksgiving pies to choose from, this is a place where you savor the ingredients you can muster up from the land and sea.

      There’s no magic in a drive-thru, only convenience. And we may appreciate convenience, but do we savor it? Distracted eating serves our busy lifestyles, but is there any nuance in consumption when it’s lost in the moment of defensive driving or determined scrolling? There can be no savoring when multitasking. When we deliberately focus on the food we suddenly we realize just what we’re shoveling into our mouths. This moment may delight or horrify us.

      Savoring is the key to an extraordinary life. If overconsumption and gluttony are the antithesis of savoring, then it stands to reason that to live an exceptional life we ought to be more thrifty in our consumption. To savor life means to slow down and appreciate what the world offers to us in the moment. This is celebratory, but not overindulgent. It is a dance with life, one small and delightful bite at a time.

    • The Attractiveness of Adventure

      “The very basic core of a man’s living spirit is his passion for adventure. The joy of life comes from our encounters with new experiences, and hence there is no greater joy than to have an endlessly changing horizon, for each day to have a new and different sun.” — Christopher McCandless

      Watching the eclipse of the moon this morning, I thought about how beautiful it was, but also about who was actually seeing it with me. The adventurous are always attracted to others with the same gumption to do outrageous things. Those who seek to wring the most out of life are appealing to those who aspire to add vibrancy and sparkle to their days.

      Right on cue my bride stepped outside, groggy and unsteady, but willing to give it a go with the moon and binoculars. It’s not the first micro adventure I’ve coaxed her towards, and I appreciate her willingness to subtract sleep for experience. Box checked, she was back to her appointment with her pillow.

      Lingering with the moon a bit longer, I thought about the attractiveness of adventure. We seek adventure to feel most alive, and naturally feel the energy emanating from similar spirits. This is true in youth, but equally true as we age. Some of the most vibrant people I’ve known are most attractive because they live a full life. They live outside the norms of society, breaking the established “rules” for living a typical life in favor of adventure. You simply can’t live your own full life inside the box someone else built for you.

      A sustained, vibrant life builds upon itself, it doesn’t subtract years from our lives through poor choices. Aliveness and vitality are the opposite of self-destructiveness and living on borrowed time. Bad habits will choke the life right out of us, so we ought to choose wisely in our quest for adventure. By all means, listen to your mother and wear sunscreen, but don’t hide behind the shades your whole life.

      We never know what we’ll attract into our life until we step out of the cage. Joyful experience is indeed attractive, and we become more attractive in our aliveness. The living are most attracted to those who live a full, adventurous life. A richer life experience, engagement with others living on a higher plane, and deeper realization of our full potential await us when we live our lives with an adventurous spirit.

      I’ll see you out there.

    • A Fight for Democracy in an Autocratic World

      “Secrecy is the keystone to all tyranny. Not force, but secrecy and censorship. When any government or church for that matter, undertakes to say to its subjects, “This you may not read, this you must not know,” the end result is tyranny and oppression, no matter how holy the motives. Mighty little force is needed to control a man who has been hoodwinked in this fashion; contrariwise, no amount of force can control a free man, whose mind is free. No, not the rack nor the atomic bomb, not anything. You can’t conquer a free man; the most you can do is kill him.” ― Robert A Heinlein

      “Almost any sect, cult, or religion will legislate its creed into law if it acquires the political power to do so.” ― Robert A. Heinlein

      If you’d asked me ten years ago if I could imagine the end of democracy in the United States, I would have laughed at the very idea. We weren’t a perfect union, something the Founding Fathers envisioned when drafting the U.S. Constitution, but we were at the very least unified in our belief that we were making progress towards a better democracy. Or so I thought.

      A decade of sipping increasingly toxic poison on extreme media sites has created an undercurrent of madness in the United States and other countries. The vast majority of people want the crazies to shut up and crawl back in their hole of misery, but they have a platform and momentum that is hard to deny. The only way to shut up a crazy person in power is to vote. The appropriate way to shut up a crazy person spewing divisive rhetoric or conspiracy theories is to leverage the legal system. There have been encouraging examples of each this year, but discouraging examples of crazies getting away with things too. Who’s to say what will happen next?

      Well, we can. In the United States of America we have a mid-term election to choose who represents we the people in Congress and in the individual states. This is an opportunity to do the right thing and slam the door on the worst tendencies of humanity, or surrender to the whims of madmen and conspiracists. What a choice.

      When you see a country like Ukraine, with everything they hold dear at stake, fighting for their freedom against an oppressive autocratic state, shouldn’t that serve as a reminder of what we ourselves fight for in our own country? It ought to be. And when we see a rise in violent acts applied against the political or cultural opposition, we ought to view that with horror and decisive corrective action too. We become what we amplify, and we become what we allow on our watch. We forget sometimes that we are the adults in the room.

      This week we get to live history in the United States of America. We either repudiate the rising antithesis of democratic union, or we surrender to the turbulent winds of outrage and conspiracy. It doesn’t seem like a tough choice, really. But here we are. Could the adults in the room kindly control the children?

    • Something More Than Hope

      “You must maintain unwavering faith that you can and will prevail in the end, regardless of the difficulties, and at the same time, have the discipline to confront the most brutal facts of your current reality, whatever they might be.” — Jim Collins

      At a mass of remembrance recently, a Catholic priest, speaking on faith in the face of loss, said that there are two sides of the coin with regard to hopelessness: despair and practicality. His point was that, not surprisingly, we lose hope when we reside in despair, but we also do when we succumb to logic and believe that there is nothing that can be done about the matter. There’s a place for hope in this world, he suggested, and it requires the antonyms of despair and practicality: faith, confidence and maybe even a small but healthy dose of idealism.

      His words triggered a memory of the “Stockdale Paradox”, which Jim Collins explains quite effectively in the quote above. Faith and hope are great, but we have to be practical too. There are sometimes things out of our control that must be dealt with. When we balance those two sides of the coin, we might realize the optimal outcome given the circumstances. Or we might not, but we gave it a good fight. Life isn’t fair: We must reconcile ourselves to that fact and do with it what we can to stay afloat. The alternative is to sink.

      Surely, there are things we have no business hoping for. Sometimes the brutal facts make hope a frivolous distraction. Then again, sometimes we get so caught up in things like despair and practicality that we give up on hope too soon. The world is full of stories of epic comebacks fueled by faith in the outcome and decisive action despite ridiculously bad odds. Being from New England, I can quickly think of two favorites:

      “Don’t Let Us Win Tonight!” — Kevin Millar, Boston Red Sox, before the game 4 comeback against the New York Yankees in the 2004 American League Championship Series. The Red Sox were down 3 games to none and came back to win the series.

      “Let’s go, baby. It’s going to be one hell of a story.” — Julian Edelman, New England Patriots wide receiver, prior to the Super Bowl comeback from a 28-3 deficit against the Atlanta Falcons to win the Super Bowl.

      In both situations, the logical thing to do would be to sink. But each team flipped the script and did whatever they had to do to win in the end. Granted, sports aren’t life, but they represent the dynamic nature of living in a contentious, competitive world that doesn’t care about our feelings, only the results.

      Brutal facts are indeed often brutal, and mandate clear thinking and deliberate action. There’s no going through the motions in such moments. Unwavering faith may fuel you, but surviving and thriving require heightened awareness and strategic execution. And even then things don’t always go our way. But then again, sometimes—sometimes, they do.

    • That Which Has Wings

      “There are those people who try to elevate their souls like someone who continually jumps from a standing position in the hope that forcing oneself to jump all day— and higher every day— they would no longer fall back down, but rise to heaven. Thus occupied, they no longer look to heaven. We cannot even take one step toward heaven. The vertical direction is forbidden to us. But if we look to heaven long-term, God descends and lifts us up. God lifts us up easily. As Aeschylus says, ‘That which is divine is without effort.’ There is an ease in salvation more difficult for us than all efforts. In one of Grimm’s accounts, there is a competition of strength between a giant and a little tailor. The giant throws a stone so high that it takes a very long time before falling back down. The little tailor throws a bird that never comes back down. That which does not have wings always comes back down in the end.” ― Simone Weil, Waiting for God

      Our spirit need not fall to earth, if we give it wings to fly. People forget, sometimes, that to take off isn’t a casual affair. We must work for the dream we’ve built for ourselves. The dream itself is built on something true deep within us that fuels our fire. Whatever your beliefs, we might agree that there is an ease that comes with living a good life, filled with good people and good intentions, pared with applied and consistent effort towards worthy objectives.

      The thing about religion is that some people work way to hard to express it outwardly. When you wear your religion like a badge there’s some truth missing inside. Like a magician using sleight of hand, the people banging the Bible loudest are working to distract you from something else. True spirituality soars above such trickery. We must avoid those who would clip our wings or put us in a cage. Seek instead to find our own truth and whether it might bear our weight.

      “Some people insist that ‘mediocre’ is better than ‘best.’ They delight in clipping wings because they themselves can’t fly. They despise brains because they have none.” ― Robert A. Heinlein, Have Space Suit—Will Travel

      When we think we have all the answers, we’re probably way off the mark. We aren’t in that kind of race, friends. First to the finish doesn’t win, for we all finish this race in our time. Helping others to fly seems a better use of a lifetime than scrambling to be king of the mountain. A mountain of what?

      To be successful means more than flapping wings. It’s stepping up to meet what resonates within us and using that as a platform to launch into our potential. But we aren’t here to fly alone. To live a rich and fulfilling life we must help others find their way in a world full of schemers. Together, just maybe, we may just soar in our brief lifetime. And sort out what comes next in good time.