Alexandersmap

November 28, 2025

Category: Culture

Unbroken Links

“That was a memorable day to me, for it made great changes in me. But it is the same with any life. Imagine one selected day struck out of it, and think how different its course would have been. Pause you who read this, and think for a moment of the long chain of iron or gold, of thorns or flowers, that would never have bound you, but for the formation of the first link on one memorable day.” ― Charles Dickens, Great Expectations

I meant to call a few people in my life this week, to wish them a Happy Thanksgiving, to check in on them, to get their perspective on the world and our place in it. I’m someone who calls other people. Not text people or drop them an email or write them a letter—worthy as those may be—but call. The written word may last forever (our version of forever anyway), but to actually speak with someone is a gift of presence.

How will we be remembered? I suspect I’ll be remembered for being proactively present. Or reliably present. Or perhaps annoyingly so. Maybe there will be relief one day when the calls stop coming in, just for the peace and quiet. Who knows? The only thing I’m certain of is that links corrode and break for lack of attention. Looking back, we tend to have far more people with whom we lose touch with than those we continue to reach out to or hear from. Conversation is a two-way street, or we’d call it a lecture.

What binds us together? When did this long chain of connection begin? How does it continue, even after all this time? Forming a link is immediate, but maintaining it requires consistent action. Now seems as good a time to touch base as any, whatever the method. We may be a beacon in the darkness, heard from at just the right time.

November 28, 2025
Thanksgiving: Our Day of Days

“You sanctify whatever you are grateful for.” — Anthony de Mello

Last night, amidst the clamor and turmoil of Thanksgiving preparations, I took the pup for her evening walk. It’s been bitingly cold this week, but a warm front had moved in, making the evening mild enough that I took off my wool hat to cool off. On our return down the street, the pup noticed something I’d seen on our walk up the street and started growling—the neighbors had placed their collection of plastic reindeer out on the lawn, ready to flip a switch and begin the Christmas season.

The growl was for the appearance of stoic creatures standing the high ground. The pup doesn’t like changes on the street, and her protective concern was reflected in turning back and growling again and again as we completed our walk back to the house. I may accept the efficiency of the act while noting that my favorite holiday of the American year is forever pushed aside in the rush for Christmas. With respect to retailers everywhere, don’t you dare discount Thanksgiving. Nobody puts Baby in the corner.

The thing is, we don’t all have families to gather with. Or with whom we wish to gather with. We are the average of the people we surround ourselves with, and for some that average isn’t all that worthy of gratitude. They would just as soon skip over it and focus on the lights and music and gifts of that season that follows Thanksgiving. I would suggest that forever looking ahead for some salvation in the future makes for an unfulfilling present. What makes today worthy of lingering with? That’s where gratitude will be.

If Thanksgiving were mythically created to celebrate the abundant harvest, or pulled together Native Americans with the settlers who would eventually displace them at one table, then it would be just another conditional holiday dependent on buying in to the story. What makes Thanksgiving special is the tradition of putting aside work and political beliefs and the desperate search for meaning in an indifferent world and gathering in appreciation of that which binds us. For we are here once again this sacred day, together, despite all that would pull us apart. So many have left us already. So few are the days when we may gather as one. Be grateful for this day of days when we may acknowledge that which brings us together. Happy Thanksgiving.

November 27, 2025
Not for Ourselves Alone

“Non nobis solum nati sumus ortusque nostri partem patria vindicat, partem amici,”
(Not for us alone are we born; our country, our friends, have a share in us.) — Marcus Tullius Cicero

We are alone, and yet a part of something far beyond ourselves. To strive to be an individual is to reach for our potential. But what is all that potential for if not for the greater good? We can thus focus on the self and not be selfish or self-centered. The more we grow, the more we can offer. And this in turn offers us more opportunity still.

The world is full of selfless people, and has far too many selfish people too. We learn as we get burned. But let’s face it; we have our moments of selfishness too. We must learn to look after ourselves if we are to survive in this world, but our nature is to look after others too. We learn whom to trust deeply, whom to steer clear of, and those who are somewhere in between with whom to form strategic alliances for mutual benefit. Every transaction is a lesson in human tendencies. Trust, but verify.

The world lately is more complicated by the fractious nature of social media and the erosion of trusted sources of information and leadership. We can acknowledge this and still live by a higher standard of personal excellence. To keep growing into the person we aspire to be, that we may be an anchor for those who might founder in the turbulent, selfish sea that this place and time represents for some.

Remember that it has always been this way, only the method and scale of communication changes. Community is an investment in the future viability of all that we believe to be sacred and true. Seek out connection and engagement with those with whom we may learn and grow. Not for us alone are we born.

November 23, 2025
A Day at The Met

The first thing you learn when you spend a day at The Metropolitan Museum of Art is that a day is comically not nearly enough time to see everything. A year at The Met might do. And be sure to capitalize that T in “The” because the official name is what it is and details matter. In matters of affectionate familiarity, it’s perfectly fine to simply call it The Met.

Comic or not, I had one random Thursday for a Met marathon. The only thing to do is to get to it—to meander through the maze of exhibits, to see, to linger on art that whispers for you to be with it for a moment, to eavesdrop on tour guides as they drop insight on what seemed randomness a moment before, to gawk at the famous and smile at the packs of teenagers giggling about the lack of fig leaves, and to move relentlessly through as much of the collection as time and mental capacity allows. As with all things, we hope to return again one day and pick up where we left off. Like that expression about the river, we will have changed in the interim, and everything we see will seem different with that new perspective.

Claude Monet, “Bouquet of Sunflowers”, 1881

Marie Denise Villers, Marie Joséphine Charlotte du Val d’Ognes (1786-1868), 1801

Jean-Baptiste Carpeaux, Why Born Enslaved!

Claude Monet, “Bridge over a Pond of Water Lilies”, 1899

August Rodin, “Beside the Sea”, 1907

William Bouguereau, “Breton Brother and Sister”, 1871

Vincent van Gogh, “Wheat Field with Cypresses”, 1889

Bronze statuette of a satyr with a torch and wineskin

Foreground: Finial for a ceremonial house, Sawos artist; Kaimbiam village, Middle Sepik River, Papua New Guinea
Background: Finials from Ambrym Island artists; Fanla village, Vanuatu

Drum
Possibly Babungo/Vengo people
Cameroon, ca. 1940

Arms and Armor Room from above

Frans Hals, “The Smoker”, ca. 1623-1625

Pablo Picasso, “The Blind Man’s Meal”, 1903

Death
German, mid-17th century
Lindenwood with traces of pigment, spruce base

Auguste Rodin, “The Burghers of Calais”

Jean Antoine Houdon, “Winter”, 1787

Fireplace Surround
Attributed to Désiré Muller, ca. 1900

Harriet Whitney Frishmuth, “The Vine”, 1921 (this cast 1924)

Antonio Canova, “Perseus with the Head of Medusa”, 1804-6

Camillo Pistrucci, “Mary Shelley”, 1843

Émile-Antoine Bourdelle, “Herakles the Archer”, 1909

Body Mask
Asmat artist; Ambisu, Ajip River, Casuarina Coast, West Papua

Bronze helmet of the Illyrian type
Greek, late 6th-early 5th century, B.C.

Mechanical Table
Workshop of David Roentgen, ca. 1780-90

Jean-Basptiste Carpeaux, “Ugolino and His Sons”, 1865-67

Augustus Saint-Gaudens, “Hiawatha”, 1874

Asmat artist, Yamas village, West Papua
Wuramon (spirit canoe)

Bronze ornament from a chariot pole
Head of Medusa
Roman, 1st-2nd century A.D.

November 21, 2025
The JFK Memorial, Hyannis

“I believe it is important that this country sail and not lie still in the harbor.” — John F Kennedy

When I was a kid, Hyannis, Massachusetts was the place we’d go to walk Main Street and buy some candy. When I got a little older it was the place to hang out with college friends or to catch a ferry to Nantucket. Hyannis isn’t quaint or quintessential Cape Cod, it’s a bustling village in the town of Barnstable. I practice active-avoidance here the way locals avoid tourist traps anywhere in the world. But I’m not a local, just way too familiar with the place.

And yet I’d never visited the John F Kennedy Memorial. It’s a quietly-dignified and understated nod to the President who once sailed in the harbor this memorial overlooks. Finding myself with a little time to spare, I fell back on my old habit of seeking out the most interesting and often overlooked places wherever I was at the moment. And this moment brought me to Hyannis.

I remember having a glimpse of the entrance to the Kennedy Compound from the back of a station wagon as a kid, but to me that’s like watching the Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous. That’s not for me. Far more interesting is an offseason visit to a quiet memorial to honor the brief, brilliant flame that was JFK.

The memorial features a fieldstone wall with a placard of JFK. Appropriately, it faces the harbor. There’s a fountain with the quote noted above engraved around it. In the offseason it’s simply a drained pool. I’m sure in summer it’s lively and impressive. But for my purposes, its stillness was appropriate for the somber occasion for the memorial. While it celebrates the life of the man, it also reminds us of all that we missed when he was assassinated that day in Dallas in 1963.

November 14, 2025
Of Sharks and Auroras

Some people are shark people. My bride is one. Shark people follow every shark sighting, have the Sharktivity app on their phones, watch Jaws every time it’s on and are completely locked in on Shark Week. The fact that there’s a week+ of programming dedicated to sharks tells you that there are a lot of shark people out there. I appreciate sharks, but I rarely think about them until the shark people mention them yet again. On Shark Week I sequester myself in the office with a good book.

Some people are sky people. I’m one of them. I have a ritual of walking the dog after dinner and spend most of the time looking up to see what the sky is doing. And it’s always doing something interesting. I have an Aurora app notifying me at all times of night. My favorite movie is Local Hero (if you know you know). Like any self-respecting sky-gazer, I follow things like meteor showers and eclipses and the occasional comet. And naturally I closely monitor solar activity that offers opportunities to see the aurora borealis.

We all have something we’re fascinated with. Call it a harmless pursuit of something that is larger than our particular niche. Those shark people are fascinated with the serial killers of the sea—mysterious creatures that emerge from the deep to challenge our belief that we are at the top of the food chain. Meanwhile, we sky people look up to the universe for perspective and enlightenment. Who’s to say which is the better pursuit? Do we draw inspiration from cold-blooded killers* or the heavens above?

* Of course I’m just kidding. I appreciate sharks too. It’s the shark people I’m poking fun at.

Aurora Borealis

November 12, 2025
And So On

The Lorax: Which way does a tree fall?
The Once-ler: Uh, down?
The Lorax: A tree falls the way it leans. Be careful which way you lean.
― Dr. Seuss, The Lorax

I saw a bumper sticker on a car at a red light that was meant to goad the left. Something along the lines of: Straight. Conservative. Christian. Gun Owner. Is there anything else I can piss you off with? I looked at her in the mirror as she smoked a cigarette like she had to beat the light, then threw it on the pavement to burn out and roll around in the traffic. I thought to myself, maybe a few more things. If I ever wanted to concern myself with that level of self-celebratory misery anyway.

We are each leaning the way we lean, however things may fall. I don’t put bumper stickers on my own vehicle, but if I did, it would be in the form of a question. Perhaps borrowing from old friend Mary Oliver, who asked the ultimate question we all ought to ask ourselves today and every day in The Summer Day:

Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?

Plans have a way of changing, because life changes and so do the living. When I was younger I was a master planner in all the things I would do one day. I’ve learned to stop planning so much and simply do. Do something right now that tilts that future possibility in our favor. Want to write that novel? Write. Want to lose 20 pounds? Move and make better choices in what goes in your mouth. And so on.

And there’s the thing: And so on. And so each of our days is filled with habits and ritual, on and on to wherever they will take us. Be sure to lean in to the right habits and rituals. We are what we repeatedly do, as Aristotle once said and this blog has repeated, well, repeatedly. Aristotle quotes would make great bumper stickers too (tell that to the spent cigarette litterer).

November is already a week old, and candidly, it’s not slowing down anytime soon. Life leaps forward even as the soul asks us to slow down and take it all in. To do a lot of things in a lifetime requires us to lean towards positive habits and productivity. But all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. When we lean into any one thing too much we tend to lose our balance. Don’t forget to fold something precious into each day.

November 7, 2025
Worthy of Its Own Passion

“What else is love but understanding and rejoicing that another lives, works, and feels in a different and opposite way to ourselves? That love may be able to bridge over the contrasts by joys, we must not remove or deny those contrasts. Even self-love presupposes an irreconcilable duality (or plurality) in one person.” — Friedrich Nietzsche

We all understand the concept of the battle of good and evil. It’s deeply embedded in every aspect of our lives, from religion to politics to movies and literature. Good and evil always gets our attention, which is why dualism is used so frequently by those who would divide us. As a society and as individuals, just who do we want to become? If there is an evil in this world, it surely resides in those who would divide us.

The rhetoric of good and evil is a red flag for extremism. Such all or nothing, black and white language is designed to call us out. We’re either with the crowd or we’re suspect. They used to burn people at the stake for such things. Now we cancel people, deport or ostracize them. The outcome is the same with less screaming. If we aren’t good we must be evil, and evil must be wiped out. The voice of reason gets drowned out in the fervor.

Manichaeism was a religion founded on this idea of light and darkness, good and evil and all that. It lasted a thousand years before being swept away by Christianity, which has it’s own dualistic tendencies. Manichaeism may have died out, but dualism is alive and kicking. We know it when we hear it, because it’s just so commonplace in our culture.

Being a voice of reason in an unreasonable time is a lonely path. People want us to pick a side, and dismiss anyone who attempts to weigh the opinion of others deemed woke or MAGA or some other version of dark and evil. Isn’t it a pity that we’ve reached a point where reason isn’t heard? The thing is, dualism stirs the survival instinct within us, where “fight or flight” overpowers the nuance of reason.

We ought to turn off the noise that would draw us away from reason. We ought to find more creative ways to influence and help people to see that most of the world is good, and very little of it is evil. That those who would use dualism to divide us are stoking that fire for their own gain. Is it so unreasonable to see that unity is a path worthy of its own passion?

November 4, 2025
Applied Focus

“Is it interesting or important?” — Mike Vrabel, New England Patriots Head Coach

After a couple of days away from home, the cat is especially expressive, meowing relentlessly for attention. Attention given, she is quiet for a few seconds, then begins again. There’s no creative space for writing with a cat meowing for your full attention. But that doesn’t matter, does it? This is the time to write, and so the writing happens anyway.

The world doesn’t care if we want to focus.

Is it interesting that the Louvre was just robbed in 7 minutes? Yes, because the robbers changed the game by shortening the time between detection and response, which will impact security globally. When you think about things like security for a living, that fact is more than interesting, but important. It’s too soon for all the answers, but finding more effective ways to detect, delay and respond to future threats is what security professionals will focus on next, even as others search for the robbers from this event. It’s a tragic development for art lovers either way, both for the loss and for the potential restrictions to access it may create in an attempt to mitigate the impact of future threats.

Interesting will distract us all day if we let it.

Applying focus is how we take charge of our days. After giving attention, and food to the cat, she’s still inclined to meow into my creative space. Noise-cancelling headphones playing Mark Knopfler’s Wild Theme on repeat will allow me to finish this blog post, and then pay attention to the cat again. What’s important to her is not necessarily important to me in this moment. The dog, bless her, gives me precious presence but also space to think.

We become what we focus on the most.

How do we win the day? One small win at a time. The pets deserve some attention first thing in the morning, but after that, our priorities deserve a little attention too. What are the important tasks that must be focused on to make today successful? What can we do to enhance our ability to accomplish these tasks? Interesting steals from important every day. It’s up to us to focus on the right thing, right now.

So focus on the important at the expense of interesting.

October 20, 2025
Kingdoms Fall

October and the trees are stripped bare
Of all they wear
What do I care?
October and kingdoms rise
And kingdoms fall
But you go on
And on
— U2, October

Inevitably, I encounter simmering rage when I listen long enough. That’s America now—rage in one form or another. It’s everywhere. Yes, common at the extremes on both sides, but creeping more and more into the middle. An even keel is hard to maintain in a tumultuous sea. We are in the midst of a storm brought on by profiteers and pirates. Bastards.

If I sound distant from the rage myself, well, it’s a deliberate act to remove myself from the storm. Maybe there are no safe harbors in a storm like this, but we ought to find places of refuge to take stock of where we are, what we stand for, who we want to be and what we want to be remembered as one day when all of this is being cleaned up and analyzed by future generations. Those of us who reside in the middle keep this ship from capsizing. We choose whether the scales will be forever tipped.

It’s October. Peak foliage days before it all falls away and all that we are left with are memories of what was and what might have been if we’d only paid more attention. Seasons come and go. All that will be left of us one day is what we choose to leave behind.

October 12, 2025