Alexandersmap

    Category: Culture

    • The What and How of Boldly Leaping

      “I have learned, as a rule of thumb, never to ask whether you can do something. Say, instead, that you are doing it. Then fasten your seat belt. The most remarkable things follow.” – Julia Cameron, The Artist’s Way

      The hard part about writing every day wasn’t starting, it was mentioning to people that I was writing every day. Writing has always been part of my identity, it was just expressed in other ways for a couple of decades while I busied myself with other things. People tend to assume those other things are who you are. But we know better don’t we? The quiet conspiracy of expressing your identity stays with you always. One day I just started writing again, and remarkable things have followed. And really, I’ve only just dipped a toe in the waters. There’s so much farther yet to go.

      “I have seldom conceived a delicious plan without being given the means to accomplish it. Understand that the what must come before the how. First choose what you would do. The how usually falls into place of itself.” – Julia Cameron, The Artist’s Way

      We all have bold plans. Some are fully realized, some fall aside in the grind of commitments and pandemics and other things. The world is fascinated with the characters who follow through on their boldness. Elon Musk, Richard Branson, Steve Jobs and Oprah Winfrey followed through on the schemes and dreams and truly audacious whimsies that most of us would gently set aside. First they chose what they would do, and the how fell into place.

      I’m watching the kids I watched grow up wade deeper into adulthood. Their own identities are emerging, different from what we might have assumed; thinking them a basketball or soccer player, or perhaps the noisy kids giggling in the basement over a Disney movie they’ve watched a hundred times. If I’ve learned anything on my own wading into the waters, it would be to offer encouragement and support the audacious without being an overprotective “adult”. Maybe offer some ideas about the “how“. Or who they might talk to about the “how“. And then get out of the way.

      So the question is, do we do that with ourselves? Do we fully support our own boldness or brush it aside as just so much nonsense? Do we focus on the “how” or the “why we shouldn’t“?

      Say, instead, that you are doing it. Then fasten your seat belt... The how usually falls into place of itself.

      Don’t just dip a toe or gently wade in the shallow waters. Figure out the hows: how deep is the water? How well can I swim in this? What do I need to know to stay afloat? (all of these questions limit your downside) And then quickly leap. And see how big a splash you can make.

      Ready?

    • A Realm of Sunset and Moonlight and Silence

      “My house stands in low land, with limited outlook, and on the skirt of the village. But I go with my friend to the shore of our little river, and with one stroke of the paddle I leave the village politics and personalities, yes, and the world of villages and personalities behind, and pass into a delicate realm of sunset and moonlight, too bright almost for spotted man to enter without novitiate and probation. We penetrate bodily this incredible beauty; we dip our hands in this painted element; our eyes are bathed in these lights and forms.” – Ralph Waldo Emerson, Nature

      I’m returning Emerson once again, partly to counter the din of political tweets and headlines that dominated over the last week, and partly because I’d like to read or re-read all of his work in 2021. Which brings me back to his essay Nature, for (I believe) a third reading. And I couldn’t help but linger on the sentence above, which resonates in this time, and for this place I myself reside, in a house in low land, with limited outlook, on the skirt of the village. Emerson had the Concord River to paddle to truth. I have the New Hampshire woods and the wildlife it sustains to show me the way.

      Days like these, a quiet bit of immersion in the forest seems in order. We live in strange times, distracting times, and I’ve seen the impact on my writing lately. Thankfully, I know where to find the remedy: in nature, in tapping into the Great Conversation, and in solitude.

      “Accept what comes from silence.
      Make the best you can of it.
      Of the little words that come
      out of the silence, like prayers
      prayed back to the one who prays,
      make a poem that does not disturb
      the silence from which it came”
      – Wendell Berry, How To Be a Poet (to remind myself)

      A special thanks to Maria Popova and Brain Pickings for pointing out this particular poem in a recent tweet. This poem immediately served as a catalyst on two fronts: to search for more Wendell Berry and seek the silent contemplation I’ve stolen from myself absorbing the madness of the world. Silence, as they say, is golden.

      So outside of paddling off on my own or building a small cabin in the woods, how to bring together the natural world and the silence necessary for contemplation? The answer, for me, lies in early mornings. The conspirator against a quiet mind is the whirl of madness in the world and a desire to keep up and understand it. In these times, finding a way to paddle or walk away from it all, if only for a little while, seems imperative.

      If only to find your own voice again.

    • From This Moment

      “How quietly I
      begin again

      from this moment
      looking at the
      clock, I start over

      So much time has
      passed, and is equaled
      by whatever
      split-second is present

      from this
      moment this moment
      is the first”
      – Wendell Berry, Be Still In Haste

      Two weeks into the New Year. About as distracting a beginning to a New Year as I can ever recall. We know where we’ve been, where we’ve come from. But what comes next? We change from moment to moment with the ticking of the clock, but what do we do with that change?

      Start over. Again.

      “Time does not exist. There is only a small and infinite present, and it is only in this present that our life occurs. Therefore, a person should concentrate all his spiritual force only on this present.” – Leo Tolstoy

      Sometimes it feels like we’re marching on a treadmill, especially during a lockdown, but you look back and see progress despite the illusion. A pile of actions that didn’t work. A few, sifted through the remains, that did. What do we make of it? All that has passed, has passed. This moment is the one that counts. This moment is the first.

      Keep trying. Again. And again.


    • Poised, and Wise, and Our Own, Today

      “In times when we thought ourselves indolent, we have afterwards discovered that much was accomplished, and much was begun in us.“– Ralph Waldo Emerson, Essays: Second Series, “Experience“ (and all subsequent quotes in this post)

      I got lost in the headlines for a bit before writing today. Getting spun up in politics and pandemics and the bad behavior of others. It’s important to be aware, to have an informed opinion to fight the good fight. I suppose… but indignation doesn’t spark the creativity I aspire to. And so a return to Emerson was in order.

      These are dark, wasted days if you choose to believe it. Alternatively, they’re the best, most productive days of our lifetimes. What do you prefer?

      “Every ship is a romantic object, except that we sail in. Embark, and the romance quits our vessel and hangs on every other sail in the horizon. Our life looks trivial, and we shun to record it.”

      Comparison is a bear. How we’ve spent the last year compared to someone else does us little good. I think of wasted opportunities and stop myself, for there’s no use going down that path. For all the madness of the last eleven months much was accomplished. Much is being accomplished. We might not see it just yet.

      “Life itself is a mixture of power and form, and will not bear the least excess of either. To finish the moment, to find the journey’s end in every step of the road, to live the greatest number of good hours, is wisdom. It is not the part of men, but of fanatics, or of mathematicians if you will, to say that the shortness of life considered, it is not worth caring whether for so short a duration we were sprawling in want or sitting high. Since our office is with moments, let us husband them. Five minutes of today are worth as much to me as five minutes in the next millennium. Let us be poised, and wise, and our own, today.”

      I’ve used the quote above before in this blog. It’s a favorite and I’ll likely use it again. Emerson whispers persistently, for all who might listen. I return to it now and then to remind myself of the worth of this day. Of this hour. Of these next five minutes. What shall we do with them, that we might record as remarkable in these times?

      “Men live in their fancy, like drunkards whose hands are too soft and tremulous for successful labor. It is a tempest of fancies, and the only ballast I know is a respect to the present hour.”

      I began the day with headlines… a tempest of fancies designed to distract and provoke and draw us out of our own heads. But we all have our own ships to sail. There’s urgency in the moment, generational urgency, and we should support those who rise up to meet it. But focus on moving down your own path too. Respect the present hour. Emerson insists.

    • Hit the Road, Jack

      “You boys going to get somewhere, or just going?” We didn’t understand his question, and it was a damned good question. – Jack Kerouac, On the Road

      I first visited Jack Kerouac’s grave in Lowell, Massachusetts when I was 20 years old. Once I knew where it was I’d stop in now and then to visit in my younger days. Usually there would be some scattered bottles of whiskey or some other tribute piled about. I’ve seen similar tributes with Thoreau and Twain’s graves, but Kerouac’s was first. It was there that I learned the sticky bond between a great writer and his readers.

      It was always mañana. For the next week that was all I heard—mañana,a lovely word and one that probably means heaven.

      Funny thing, I was wrapped up in the history of Kerouac, but I kept putting off reading his classic On the Road for years. Maybe I didn’t want to be disappointed if I didn’t like it. Maybe I had an image of what it was but wasn’t willing to see for myself what it was all about. But it was always mañana with this book. Until a friend posted a picture of his grave on social media that triggered me and I immediately downloaded it and started reading.

      “What is he aching to do? What are we all aching to do? What do we want?” She didn’t know. She yawned. She was sleepy. It was too much. Nobody could tell. Nobody would ever tell. It was all over. She was eighteen and most lovely, and lost.

      I think if I’d read On the Road at 20 I might have hopped in my Ford F-150 and crossed the country right then. Because at 20 you understand how Sal and Dean feel. The lost souls bouncing coast-to-coast searching for answers. When you live a bit you realize you’re searching in the wrong place most of the time. Most of the answers you need are right where you started. What are you aching to do? What do you want?

      “The days of wrath are yet to come. The balloon won’t sustain you much longer. And not only that, but it’s an abstract balloon. You’ll all go flying to the West Coast and come staggering back in search of your stone.”

      Wandering about in life sounds romantic, but Kerouac paints the grim reality of the quest. The abject poverty, the desperation and rootlessness. The descent into drugs and sex and casual regard for anything meaningful. The pursuit of what’s next. If Sal and Dean had iPhones they might never have left New York. They may have scrolled blankly through their Twitter feed. The search continues one generation to the next, the characters just use a different mode of transportation.

      He made one last signal. I waved back. Suddenly he bent to his life and walked quickly out of sight. I gaped into the bleakness of my own days. I had an awful long way to go too.

      It took a few decades but I finally finished On the Road. And really, I don’t have an urge to immediately drive across the country chasing dreams. Well, maybe a little bit. But mostly I understand. I see how it influenced the Baby Boomer generation when it was published in 1957. I hear it echo in Bob Dylon and Simon & Garfunkel songs (Listen to America and you’re On the Road with Jack Kerouac). I understand now how it influenced me even without reading it. What took me so long? I don’t know. But I’m happy I’ve finally crossed that bridge.

    • Another Dance

      “Don’t call this world adorable, or useful, that’s not it.
      It’s frisky, and a theater for more than fair winds.”
      Mary Oliver, Where Does the Dance Begin, Where Does It End?

      When the world show you more than fair winds (this week surely did that), a sprinkling of Mary Oliver poetry soothes the soul. Don’t think I don’t recognize the tendency to turn this blog into a Mary Oliver fan page, and really I’ve tried to move to other things, but too often Oliver seems to have the words readily available. Funny how a few words piled together just so seems to center you. To harden your resolve to get through the darkest days with an eye towards the light.

      “Doesn’t the wind, turning in circles, invent the dance?”

      I don’t suppose the angry mob has time for poetry. It’s clear they aren’t dancing joyfully through life either. Spun up in conspiracy and hate, and believing false gods. They can’t see beauty when they’re blind with rage.

      But we can. So long as we continue to look for it. Hate burns out when it runs out of fuel.

    • The Birds and Stars Remind

      Let’s face it, the days between the US National Election and the events of January 6th were some of the craziest we’ve ever witnessed in our lifetimes. Not since 9/11 have I been so angry and distracted as I was on the afternoon of January 6th, 2021. And it can be easy to wrap yourself around the pole of ongoing coverage and online opinion and speculation. I let myself indulge in some of that too.

      And then last night I took a walk outside on a brilliantly clear night and saw Orion poised above me. Orion has seen it all before and recognizes the smallness in our human lifetimes. This is big by human standards, but we’re like ants to the universe, and not the big ants but the tiny little ones that you have to squint to make out the features on. Orion whispered “This might be a big week for you but this ain’t nothing to the universe, kid.”

      Earlier this morning I waited for the water to boil for my morning jolt of goodness and watched the birds flitter about from the feeder to the ground, ground to the shrub, and back to the feeder. This crowd featured bluebirds and cardinals and mourning doves and sparrows. Mostly taking their turns at the feeder (except for the mourning doves who rely on scraps falling to the ground), but sometimes impatient with each other to get a move on so they can have their turn. This frenzy continued on well past the coffee being ready. Small little things fighting for their share and a little bit more. Perspective is where you find it.

      This week we saw people acting like squabbling birds at the feeder not wanting to take turns, while others pounced on the scraps below. It was maddening, and the days ahead are fraught with peril. But a walk or a glance outside offers lessons in perspective. We have work to do. A lot of work. But the worst of this will pass if we work together to make things better. Generally humanity is moving ever so slowly towards a better place. We might see this if we break our focus on selfishly fighting amongst ourselves. This ain’t nothing to the universe kid. This too shall pass.

    • America Will Fix Itself

      Yesterday was ugly in America, and there will be more ugly days ahead. Angry, misguided people tend to lash out, especially when emboldened in a mob and spurred on by an orange tyrant. America was slapped across the face and abused, but she’s rising up and fixing the demons that haunt her. We have a long way to go, but yesterday will be a catalyst for those who stood by silently to rise up and join those who were fighting all along.

      Change is hard. The violence and brutality and outrage we’ve seen in America are symptoms of underlying problems that needed to be addressed. And in addressing them we’ll create even more friction from those who perceive that something is being taken away from them. Outrage is big business, and there are plenty of platforms to feed and escalate it. Those platforms need a hard look too.

      Free speech is a blessing and a curse. We all have the right to say what we want to say. But we don’t have the right to an audience. Tempering the outrage industry will be a tough but necessary step. I won’t pretend to know how to cool things down, but I believe it starts with helping people focus on using that energy for productive, positive things. Building instead of destroying.

      Ultimately we’re all tiny humans living on a fragile planet that’s given her all for us, largely against her will. America is one very loud and self-absorbed part of a global community. We have our issues right now. But we’re figuring it out. And we’ll get it right. Because we have no other choice but to figure it out.

    • Mapping Your Future Like Disney Did

      George Mack tweeted out a “synergy map” that Walt Disney originally drew on a napkin in 1957 that blew me away in its simplicity. As a visual learner this drawing spoke more clearly to me than a dozen books on the topic might have. As they say: a picture is worth a thousand words. Who knew that better than Walt Disney?

      The key to this strategic map is in the center. The creative people drove everything with consistent output of intellectual property. This fueled exponential growth for Walt Disney Corporation for 97 years and counting. If you look at Disney since then, they’ve acquired more intellectual property with Pixar, LucasFilms and Marvel to revitalize the center. Altogether a stunningly effective vision that continues to evolve and grow. There’s an informative article on this strategy on reforge.com worth reading to learn more about the Disney strategy.

      But what of us? What can we take from this synergy map to apply in our own lives? Well, to start with it won’t be nearly as complicated as the Disney strategy map. But it starts with knowing what your core intellectual property is (what do you create?) and then build out a mutually sustaining infrastructure around it. That might be a job or starting a business or non-profit, it can be a blog or a publishing company (for distribution of that intellectual property), and it might be merchandise.

      Take someone who brews beer. Their intellectual property is in the beer recipes, but also in the company logo, artwork on the cans and overall vibe in the products and in the tasting room. They create synergies for that with a social media presence, maybe creative partnerships with concerts and food trucks every weekend, and sell merchandise. The more you expand these synergistic parts of your map, the more it fuels the creatives who can add more brewing equipment and distribution.

      Writing a blog every day is centering, but is it the center? There are plenty of examples of people who have made it so. Maybe its a synergistic side hustle of your overall entity. Do you write to make money or for other reasons? Do you do anything to make money or for other reasons? What do you want it to become? Drawing it all out on a strategy map might answer some of those questions.

      The trick is in knowing what your center is and what you want to build towards. What drives everything else? Sometimes you stumble upon it, but mostly you just keep trying things until you find your niche. Disney focused on monetization of his creative output. You might look at optimization of time or some other key metric. But you must know the center and where and why you want to go from there.

      The why is written on the arrows linking the different nodes sprouting from your center. Look back at Disney’s, you’ll see that there are arrows going both ways. Nothing is a one way street, and it shouldn’t be in your life either.

      And here lies the beauty of the Walt Disney synergy map. You see where the dead ends are. Where the synergies aren’t all that strong. And where you have a chance to build something special in your life. All you need is a pencil and something to draw on. Want a napkin?

    • Don’t Forget About the Magic

      “And above all watch with glittering eyes the whole world around you because the greatest secrets are always hidden in the most unlikely places. Those who don’t believe in magic will never find it.” – Roald Dahl

      Here we are: The first Monday after the New Year. Where the rubber meets the road. Where all those dreams and goals and habits we mentally put in place see if they measure up to the reality of 9 to 5. How’s it going so far?

      Yesterday I wrote of ten year plans. Today I focus on winning the day. Score the day based on what I can control that keeps me on the path. Stack a few good habits on top of the ones I have momentum with, shave more time off social media and on to productive uses. Try something different to see how it goes. Cook a new recipe with a vegetable you tend to quickly walk past in the market. Work out in a different way than the usual. Add on something meaningful in your daily routine. Try above all things to make it stick. Because streaks matter.

      We get so spun up about productivity and measurable success towards our objectives that we seem to forget about magic. And that might be the most important thing you’ll come across today. It dances around us, looking for a glimmer of recognition in our stern eyes. We either dance with it or it flitters away to find another conspirator (Magic is never persistent, it’s shy that way).

      So in my to-do lists and habit loops and tasks to complete before things get too far along I try to remember to keep watching with glittering eyes. Magic is welcome here. And when it wanders off somewhere else I go out and try to find it. For life is more than just checking the next box.