Alexandersmap

    Category: Culture

    • Understanding the Rhyme

      “Wer einmal sich selbst gefunden, der kann nichts auf dieser Welt mehr verlieren. Wer einmal den Menschen in sich begriffen hat, der begreift alle Menschen.” (Once you’ve found yourself, you can’t lose anything in this world. Whoever has understood the human being within himself, understands all human beings.) — Stefan Zweig

      I’d first read about Zweig years ago, for his story is compelling. A popular Austrian writer in his day, who’s popularity and influence reached across the world, he was swept up in the madness boiling over in Germany and Austria in the 1930’s and eventually fled to Brazil. It was there that he and his wife committed suicide in 1942. Just two more casualties of the Nazis. I wonder, had he only held on just a few more years, what he might have understood about humanity then? As it was, his view of the darkness in that moment was apparently too much to take.

      We work to reach our full potential in our lifetime, or we settle for whatever we grow comfortable with along the way. I suppose the question of motivation ought to be examined on this journey. For are we trying to rise above everyone else or reach our own personal peak? Doesn’t darkness lie in the relentless pursuit of the former, while hope lies in our earnest pursuit of the latter?

      I shake my head at some of the people in this world trying to grab for more and more power and influence, upsetting the apple cart and leaving scars on society that will take generations to heal. Zweig saw this in his time, seeing what was lost forever. Tragically, he didn’t hold out long enough for the best in humanity to overcome the worst. Who are we to judge him, for the darkest days eight decades ago were pretty damned dark. Looking at World War II, we like to think we could stand up to fight for decency and fairness like the greatest generation did. Well, we have our opportunity to prove that today, don’t we?

      When we rise up to meet our individual potential, we honor those who built the foundation we started from, and set a new standard for those who make the climb after us. But we can’t forget, in our pursuit of excellence, that foundations can erode quickly when undermined by waves of greed and hate. We are the cornerstones for the future, and must work to shore up the base. And if we understand anything about human nature, it’s that history rhymes.

    • Our Legacy of Previous Work

      Our previous work lingers, either nagging us for where we didn’t measure up or offering a standard to exceed in what we do next. It ought to be the latter, and as we grow we learn to accept that we’ve generally improved upon our previous selves.

      Walking around the yard, I scrutinize the hardscape, for it leaves a lasting impression. I remember a particularly hot Father’s Day laying the brick patio, and a particularly challenging fence post hole when erecting the fence. I remember having the excavator I’d rented getting stuck in wet loam and having to call the rental place to help me tow it out, then scolding me for not renting a different tractor that could handle the conditions I was putting that Bobcat through. Life is a series of lessons.

      Writing is the same. I have posts written long ago that receive likes today, prompting me to reflect on what I was saying at the time. Despite our best efforts we try not to repeat ourselves too often, but there are clearly themes running through this blog that regular readers may rattle off readily. Writing every day requires a steady consumption of new experiences, reading books of substance and a willingness to put it out there. Some posts were clearly works in progress when I click publish, some are more polished. All were my best available in the moment I had with you.

      We can’t linger with our previous self when there’s so much living to do ahead of us, but we can glean lessons from our past. We can also celebrate the things that we did well. That brick patio turned out pretty well, and so did that fence (so long as you don’t look too closely). Some blog posts stand the test of time, while others fade away.

      Our legacy is our work. It reflects who we were and the tools we had available at the time. So long as we did our best, we shouldn’t judge it too harshly. In our work we see the progression to where we are now. And maybe find insight into who we might become in the future.

    • Emptying the Noise Bucket

      Wherever I am, the world comes after me.
      It offers me its busyness. It does not believe
      that I do not want it. Now I understand
      why the old poets of China went so far and high
      into the mountains, then crept into the pale mist.
      — Mary Oliver, The Old Poets of China

      We’re all busy, and compounding our generally hectic lives, the world wants our full attention. It throws attention-grabbing headlines, distressing developments, and plenty of opinion about all of it at us and wants us to join the maddening chorus. Surely these are troubling days that shouldn’t be ignored. And as citizens of the world we must pay attention and work to improve our general lot. But, like our mobile devices that long ago became an extension of our brains, we should never forget to recharge our batteries regularly.

      “To become empty is to become one with one with the divine—this is the Way.” — Aza Kenzo

      When our focus turns to the noise outside we don’t hear our inner voice. We lose our compass heading. We miss a beat. And in that lapse our best work—our purpose, suffers. We must empty the bucket of noise and fill the void with silence. Luckily, solitude is just a walk or a garden full of weeds away. Simply leave that phone behind, step away from the noise and listen to yourself for awhile. We don’t owe the world all of our time, no matter how much it insists upon it.

      “The music is not in the notes, but in the silence between.” — Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart

      The thing is, that bucket of noise is going to keep filling up, no matter how much we try to empty it. As Mozart structured his symphonies, we ought to structure the music of our own lives. The magic isn’t in the noise at all, but in the silence in between. If we wish for more magic in our lives, if we wish to compose something that transcends the chatter of everyday life, if we simply wish to reset our jittery compass, then we must empty the noise bucket and dance with the silence left behind.

    • A Snapshot of Modern Domestic Air Travel

      Those not residing in or actively flying domestically in the United States may be unaware of just how challenging air travel can be at the moment. There are simply not enough active pilots or flight crews to meet demand. This is partially because of the pandemic, when everything dried up and many active pilots and crew retired or moved on to other careers, and partly because the airline industry didn’t keep up with training new pilots to replace those who were retiring. In any case, there is a severe shortage of crews, making delays and cancellations more and more common. Throw in a general public eager to travel and you’ve got a formula for fun.

      Consider my most recent flight, from Nashville to Boston:
      — Flight delayed by 50 minutes before I even arrived at the airport.
      — After finally boarding the plane, they determined they needed to reboot the plane’s Operating System, which involves shutting down the plane for 5-10 minutes (did I mention it was 100 degrees Fahrenheit in Nashville at the time?)
      — Upon departing the gate and taxiing towards the the runway, the plane was pulled out of line by air traffic control minutes before takeoff because of air traffic roulette in the northeast.
      — Waited on tarmac for two hours, which meant a mandatory return to a gate so passengers could get off for relief or food. While an option, they encouraged everyone to stay on board so they could leave sooner.
      — Finally took off 3 1/2 hours late and arrived in Boston after midnight. Flight attendant mentioned she’d just had a 16 hour day. Who am I to complain after hearing that?

      Does flying the friendly skies sound glamorous yet? Let me add another tidbit:
      Since I’d transferred from another flight, I was in a middle seat at the very back of the plane, seated next to a toxic lump of evaporating booze and churning empty calories throwing up in his mouth and exhaling for the rest of us to enjoy. He kept nodding off and bouncing his head into the seat in front of him like he was head-butting a villain in a Diehard movie. I write this fondly, and find myself missing him already. Almost as much as I miss that middle seat when the plane was being rebooted on a hot day in Music City.

      Travel has never been easier, and yet never so challenging. Life is funny that way. If I was impressed with anything during that experience, it’s that everyone on that plane accepted the reality of a moment we couldn’t control. We all suffered that shared experience together in stride, without a single headline-making incident. Maybe there’s hope for society after all.

    • Mastery is a Beacon

      “Besides, isn’t it confoundedly easy to think you’re a great man if you aren’t burdened with the slightest idea that Rembrandt, Beethoven, Dante or Napoleon ever lived?“ — Stefan Zweig, Chess Story

      My mind is still in Vienna as I write this—a city that’s had its fair share of high achievers walk her streets and contribute to humanity’s Great Conversation in their life’s work. Big names roamed those same streets, and you might feel a need to raise your game when you walk with that level of ghosts—I surely did. And shouldn’t we feel this compulsion to close the gap between the masters and where we currently reside?

      The world offers precious few brilliant shining stars. Most of us burn less brilliantly. And yet we burn just the same, and cast our own light on the darkness in the world. We may recognize that we aren’t quite at the level of a master in our field yet still have something to offer anyway. And knowing that there are more brilliant lights in human history, we may choose to stoke our fire—feed it with the fuel necessary to one day burn more brilliantly still.

      What provokes us towards greatness but comparison? We may never reach those levels, few do, but knowing there are heights we haven’t reached yet ought to inspire more. For mastery is a beacon.

    • Where Our Heart Takes Us

      “I am proud of my heart alone, it is the sole source of everything, all our strength, happiness and misery. All the knowledge I possess everyone else can acquire, but my heart is all my own.” — Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, The Sorrows of Young Werther

      I was thinking about Goethe after my traveling companion asked me why I was so happy to come across a statue erected in his honor in Vienna. I suppose this quote offers some insight. Goethe distinguished himself as a deep thinker in a city jammed full of them. We all seek knowledge in our quest to become something more, but our heart points the way and determines how far we actually go. Our knowledge quest isn’t unique to us, many of us seek amelioration. The heart ultimately tips the scales for how rich and fulfilling our lives will be.

      Absorbing knowledge is helpful when we do something with it. The homeless man asking me for money in the park easily pivoted from German to English when I responded with my basic skills in his native language. Which of us has more knowledge? Which of us can read Goethe without translation? We are what we either seek or ignore. Knowledge is but a starting point for becoming what we might be.

      Traveling, reading, learning a language, and trying to capture experiences in words are each forms of seeking knowledge. Goethe’s hard stare and his translated words remind me that I have work to do. Do I have the heart to get it done?

    • Vienna, At Last

      Slow down, you crazy child
      And take the phone off the hook and disappear for awhile
      It’s all right, you can afford to lose a day or two
      When will you realize, Vienna waits for you?

      — Billy Joel, Vienna

      A traveler seeks magic in places big and small, and in mountains and cities alike. Two weeks of trains, planes and automobiles carried us to some of the most beautiful places in the region, but we had to come to Vienna before we felt our trip was complete. Maybe it was Billy Joel’s reminder that the city—the world— is out there waiting for us to stop the madness and seek out the magic that inspired a visit, or maybe it was a voice inside. Vienna, like Paris or Budapest or Prague remains a myth until you reach out and meet it.

      The first impression a visitor may have of Vienna is that the city is far bigger than one might expect. The larger city looks and feels like the working city it is. Cranes all over the horizon indicate it’s still growing, and quickly. But for all its bigness the Old City itself is very walkable.

      Where do you go first when you visit Vienna? For me the choice was obvious: St Stephen’s Cathedral. Seeing the massive and ornate structure of the church itself was a goal, but climbing the 343 steps up the South Tower for the incredible views of the city was my underlying goal.

      Having seen the city from a high vantage point, it was time to find the details that make Vienna unique. One must walk an old city and find that which hides from casual visitors. This city offers something around every corner.

      When you’ve heard about Vienna your whole life don’t just skip across its surface like a stone, sink in! One should visit the palaces and museums and cafés to know Vienna, but you should also seek out the nooks and crannies where the place reveals its magic. Those who built this place leave a bit of themselves for us to discover, should we only look for it.

    • A Visit to Hallstatt

      Let’s get the obvious out of the way: Hallstatt is a tourist town. Thousands visit, take the same photos and leave. The crush of people in the middle of the day is an adjustment if you aren’t expecting it, but really—you should be expecting it. Hallstatt is famous for the iconic vista and the swarms that seek it out. But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t go, just go prepared.

      Hallstatt is popular because it’s incredibly beautiful. like anything beautiful you either see it at surface level or you take the time to understand it at a deeper level. Linger with the little things. Savor the prolific roses that obviously love the climate. Get up really early and walk the town before anyone else is awake. Hike out to where the masses aren’t inclined to go. Don’t just be mesmerized by that pretty face looking back at you, ask for more.

      There’s a camaraderie that develops with early risers. We all seek the same thing, and respect boundaries. After all, mornings are for reverence. In Hallstatt the mission seems clear—get your money shot photo. Before dawn there were two of us waiting for the light, that number soon doubled and then tripled just before the bells rang at 6 AM. It was time to move on. You learn to linger, but never overstay. You must remember to savor this place you’ve imagined going to for so long.

    • A Visit to the Pristine Königssee

      I’d had this day circled for months, anticipating a spectacular day on the gorgeous Bavarian lake known as Königssee. I’d gotten a peek at the northernmost tip of the lake high atop Eagle’s Nest the day before, and it seemed finally real. And on a warm summer day when seemingly everyone was swimming in the lake and brilliant blue skies contrasted with the mountains, the experience exceeded expectations.

      The logistics of getting there seemed straightforward—it was a short drive from the hotel and the parking lot was plenty big. But that parking lot proved a stumbling block. Most of the pay machines only accept coins, and the change machines weren’t working. There are some credit card readers which also weren’t functional. Signage said to go to the information center for change, but it didn’t open until 09:00. That left several people scrambling for change. Fortunately an acquaintance happened to park nearby and had the app on his phone to pay. Hurdle cleared.

      Königssee, at almost five miles long, and its beautiful little lake sister Obersee, sit within Berchtesgaden National Park. Like Zion National Park in the United States, the towering rock faces seemed a cathedral surrounding you in a hug. You feel inclined to return that affection. There are plenty of options to feel the spirit of the place walking the paths, hiking, sitting in the biergarten or on Königssee itself. Of course, you may feel inclined to do all of those things.

      The famous electric boats leave from Schönau am Königssee, with stops in St. Bartholomä and Salet. To make the most of your visit to Königssee you really should go to Salet. The longer trip brings you past the beautiful Schrainbach Wasserfall as it plunges into the lake. Salet itself offers dining services, but also access to Lake Obersee and the spectacular Röthbachfall as it plunges over 400 meters down a sheer rock cliff. As a bonus there’s another waterfall to the left that likely feels resentful at its bigger sibling getting all the attention. The hike itself is easy and offers some incredible vistas along the way.

      As an American with the tiniest grasp of the German language I was left in the dark when our boat guide rapidly rattled off historical facts and one-liners that had the passengers in stitches, but managed to pick up just enough to follow along. What transcends language barriers is music, and the highlight of the boat ride was our guide playing his trumpet accompanied by its echo on the mountain walls surrounding us. It was magical. So too is Königssee.

    • A Visit to Eagle’s Nest

      You feel the history of the place well before you walk through the marble tunnel to the polished brass elevator that carries you more than 400 feet to the Eagle’s Nest. You feel it when you see the broken old bricks that were once the steps leading to the door of the most famous villain in modern history. You feel it when see the old guard hut still standing stoically almost 80 years since Nazis stood in it. Eagle’s Nest reputation precedes a visit you make to it.

      The German word for Eagle’s Nest is Kehlsteinhaus. It remains largely the same as it was when Hitler and the worst of humanity plotted invasions and mass extermination of large segments of the population within reach of this mountainous enclave. That it was spared during the bombing raids of 1945 or the subsequent destruction of Hitler’s prized home is a lucky break. For all its dark history, Eagle’s Nest today is a beautiful place to spend a day.

      Despite the complexity of building a mountain road with its network of bridges and tunnels, cutting an entry tunnel and elevator shaft out of rock and dropping a building on top of it all, thousands of skilled laborers got it done in just over a year. For Hitler, a guy afraid if heights, that drive up must have been terrifying. Good. Who wants to think of him enjoying it?

      Walking around the mountaintop on a beautiful day, the world opens up around you. The stunning Berchtesgaden Alps surround you and sparkling Lake Königssee shimmers below. This place is a wonder. But don’t plan to stay for long at the top. People are moved in and out with quick efficiency. It may have started as a Nazi lair designed to awe visitors, but today it’s a major tourist attraction. Still in the business of awe, but very much on a tight schedule.