Alexandersmap

    Category: Habits

    • Discovered Deeper

      What is precious
      inside us does not
      care to be known
      by the mind
      in ways that diminish
      its presence.
      — David Whyte, The Winter of Listening

      I ought to write more, I tell myself. But what is this blog, written most every day, but writing? ‘tis not the same, I think. It is through the writing process that deeper discoveries are made.

      What I really mean is that I ought to carve out more time in my days for discovery. Writing does the trick, but so does a long walk amongst the whispering trees, so does listening to the right music, or seeing art that awes. We find something of ourselves when we venture beyond the self.

      We are constantly and forever finding out something about ourselves. Forever changing, evolving, becoming who we are to be. It’s the journey of our lifetime, revealed one day to the next. We ought to revel in the daily discovery, but we’re often too busy living to appreciate the incremental strides forward.

      When will we ever find the time , if not now?

    • The Price of Greatness

      “If you want to be different from everybody else you’ve got to pay the price.” — Anton Myrer

      Paying the price of greatness sounds like a catchy line. It’s easy to dismiss catchy, or to embrace the idea but not follow through on it. Actually paying the price is very difficult, or everybody would be great. Have a look around; the world is chock full of average. Great is evasive, it’s lip service to the concept that is commonplace.

      We ought to aspire to greatness in something. So much of what we do, try as we might, may reach good but not great. Nothing hits the ego harder than our best efforts resulting in something that is just okay. I know I will never be great at some things I truly love doing, but accept being good enough. Accepting good enough is a price paid for attempting to be great at something else.

      We may never reach greatness in anything, but we can reach a level of satisfaction with how far we’ve come. Alternatively, we can pay a steeper price, knowing average effort leads us to average results. The choice is ours, isn’t it? Just what price are we willing to pay?

    • Progression

      “I am suffocated and lost when I have not the bright feeling of progression.” — Margaret Fuller

      I have a garden and fancy myself above average in gardening. But I’m the first to tell you I haven’t reached mastery in the fine art of horticulture. My vegetable garden is barely holding on. A friend who focuses exclusively on his vegetable garden knows more about tomato varieties than I ever will. I know exactly who to ask for advice when my own tomatoes aren’t thriving or are getting nibbled on by some critter in the night. But in general, my gardening skills progress every season.

      A life of progression is a happy life. The alternative is stagnation or regression, and what fun are either of those? No, we must be advancing in a clear, positive direction to live a fulfilling, joyful life. At risk of an eye roll or two from the friend group, progression requires production. We must produce the results we aspire to achieve.

      We usually progress in one area of life while regressing in another. We can’t focus on everything. Every yes is a no to something else. I choose to be completely ignorant of pickleball and cribbage, that I may aspire to greatness in, say, gardening and writing. That I haven’t reached greatness in either is beside the point. I am happy with progression. The key to a happy life is finding that something to progress towards.

    • Unencumbered

      “Finish each day and be done with it. You have done what you could. Some blunders and absurdities no doubt crept in; forget them as soon as you can. Tomorrow is a new day. You shall begin it serenely and with too high a spirit to be encumbered with your old nonsense.” — Ralph Waldo Emerson

      They say the best professional athletes have the shortest memories. Striking out in your last at bat doesn’t mean you’ll strike out in this one. It simply means you’ve seen this pitcher before and hopefully learned a thing or two in the encounter. And that philosophy carries the day in all things in life. Don’t let yesterday’s nonsense encumber us on as we rise to meet each bright, clear morning. Do what must be done with the clarity of hope and purpose.

      I’ve been carrying this post for twelve hours awaiting this next paragraph. There was a time when I would write a couple of crappy paragraphs just to round it out to something worthy of the post. But I’ve learned that throwing up a post with the primary aim of word count leads to some not very good blog posts. To encumber the reader with fluff words does a disservice to each of us. So let us leave on good terms. Until tomorrow then?

    • Pebbles

      “It isn’t the mountains ahead to climb that wear you out; it’s the pebble in your shoe” — Muhammad Ali

      Inevitably, after doing some workout and feeling the rush of adrenaline that washes over you when you finish, I tell myself I ought to do that more consistently. I mean, a year ago I was working out twice a day for 75 days, so why am I not working out at least once a day now? Maybe working out twice a day was a bit much, but not working out at all was a bit too far in the other direction.

      Habits come and go. I wrote this blog every day for seven years and just stopped one day just to reset myself and stop that creeping feeling that writing was an obligation and not a privilege. I’m writing again with new perspective, and without feeling like I must publish today no matter what. Hopefully the content feels less like an obligation to read too.

      Habits stick when we love doing something. When it becomes so ingrained as part of our identity that we can’t imagine not doing it today and for every tomorrow we have left ahead of us. When it nags at us like a pebble in the shoe, we’re far less likely to follow through with it today. And our actions today are all that matters in all things.

      Today I took my bike out for a 15-mile ride. That’s nothing for a hard-core cyclist, but it’s not a bad use of an hour for a casual cyclist trying to get back in the habit again. It turned out what was nagging at me was how much I missed being out on the bike while stuck in a routine chock full of excuses. Tomorrow will take care of itself, but I’ll celebrate today for all the right reasons.

    • Fully Alive

      We slip in and out of rituals and routines. Like most people, I’d become dissatisfied with some of the things that used to wrap around me and call themselves a part of me. And I’ve grown equally dissatisfied for having let some good habits slip away. As with everything, it all depends on where we’re heading.

      The right routine, the right ritual, brings us closer to Arete (personal excellence). The wrong routines and rituals slide us sideways into the abyss. In this way, habits, routines and rituals are a very serious thing indeed.

      We have this one life to live, wherever it’s taking us. We tell ourselves that we don’t have time to waste on laziness and lack of focus. But is it laziness to focus on something other than a relentless drive to a goal? Consider a favorite poem:

      Oh do you have time
      to linger
      for just a little while
      out of your busy

      and very important day
      for the goldfinches
      that have gathered
      in a field of thistles

      for a musical battle,
      to see who can sing
      the highest note,
      or the lowest,

      or the most expressive of mirth,
      or the most tender?
      Their strong, blunt beaks
      drink the air

      as they strive
      melodiously
      not for your sake
      and not for mine

      and not for the sake of winning
      but for sheer delight and gratitude—
      believe us, they say,
      it is a serious thing

      just to be alive
      on this fresh morning
      in the broken world.
      I beg of you,

      do not walk by
      without pausing
      to attend to this
      rather ridiculous performance.

      It could mean something.
      It could mean everything.
      It could be what Rilke meant, when he wrote:
      You must change your life.
      — Mary Oliver, Invitation

      When this day ends, as it inevitably will, what will we have done with it? Pursuit of a clear objective is a worthy goal, but so too is the bold act of simply being alive and aware of the delightful moment we find ourselves in. The trick, I think, is to follow the path but to take off the blinders. Not to succumb to distraction but rather to savor more of the flavor of the day. We are here, this is it, do we see all that is possible in this pregnant moment? Be delighted, be grateful, and above all else, be fully alive.

    • Anchored Here and Now

      “All change is a miracle to contemplate; but it is a miracle which is taking place every instant.” — Henry David Thoreau, Walden

      I find myself writing from a state of hyper-awareness of change. Scroll through old photo albums and decades worth of digital images representing the lives of those who have passed and we realize that change is the constant in our lives. That and the tight circle of fellow travelers we call family and friends, all working to make sense of this dynamic advancement into the future as we ourselves are. There we were, here we are, and there we go.

      The only thing to do in a changing world is to anchor into something solid. Anchors are often disguised as ritual and habit. Often it’s the very people and place that we take for granted as we move through time. That favorite café we get our liquid energy at. The bookstore we wander through when the day feels chaotic. The playlist we return to when we need a lift. A solid anchorage looks different for each of us, but serves the same purpose: keeping us grounded in something tangible when change is swirling all around us.

      If I may offer some unsolicited advice as we navigate a lifetime together, it’s to take more pictures with those fellow travelers we encounter in our todays. Tomorrow will find us wanting more reminders of what was. A photograph is an anchorage locked in amber, reminding us of how much those people staring back at us meant to us in the moment. Document names and places as a gift to those who will one day scroll through our lives in images, wondering just what those people are trying to tell them about our moment.

      We know we can’t stay anchored forever. Life advances, and so must we. We may adapt and grow into what’s next, with a firm sense of who we are and where we’ve been. With an eye on the adventures yet to come.

    • Outcomes

      What fills the void when we remove a habit? We hope to fill the space with better habits. Perhaps our workouts will become better and more consistent. Perhaps we’ll read more than we did before. Perhaps we’ll use that time to be more alive in the world. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps…

      Then again, maybe it wasn’t the habit that was the problem. Maybe it was rest of the time around the habit that was lacking. Maybe it was the feeling of obligations—that something had to be done no matter what. We have enough obligations in our lives. Can’t we just enjoy ourselves? Life isn’t that easy, friend.

      I write for the writing’s sake. I ought to do more of it, but for the day job and the feeling that it isn’t my path to travel. Like so many options that turn into “not for me”, not every whim and desire arrives at an outcome. And maybe that’s as it should be.

      Should I publish this and arrive at one outcome, or is writing it enough? Save as draft or publish? The answer is in the click. Isn’t it interesting how one small action may change an outcome forever? As with all outcomes, it helps to know where it is that we wish to arrive before we act. That fact shouldn’t distract us from realizing that action towards something meaningful was all that ever mattered anyway.

    • The Optimism of a Future Hello

      And in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make.
      —The Beatles, The End

      I’ve always been a streak hitter. I find something that works for me, do it as best I can, and repeat it the next day. Habits are formed, identity is voted upon with action, expectations are set that what was will always be. The world might fall apart, but hey, we are still here, doing this, as we’ve always done. Like lilacs blooming in May, some things are predictable, and surely comforting.

      Writing an average of 400 words per blog post, I push out my thoughts, quote a poem or ramble on about stoic philosophy or the state of the garden. The site itself is a hot mess of bad formatting, but the words are mine. Sometimes I tell myself to fix this thing and make it shine, but really, I like it fine the way it is.

      And every day I tell myself this will be the last post and I’ll take a break. No grand announcement that this is the end, simply an Irish goodbye. To say something meaningful (if only to me) and exit stage left. And perhaps this will be the end, or a pause, or maybe I’ll just pick up right where I left off once again tomorrow. Nomads don’t say goodbye, they say, “until we meet again”. That expression is not an ending, it’s the optimism of a future hello. And doesn’t that feel better than “goodbye”?

    • Everything, Forever

      Turn, turn, my wheel! All things must change
      To something new, to something strange;
      Nothing that is can pause or stay;
      The moon will wax, the moon will wane,
      The mist and cloud will turn to rain,
      The rain to mist and cloud again,
      To-morrow be to-day.
      — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Kéramos

      I considered yesterday an ending of sorts, which infers that today would be a beginning. But it feels like more of the same. Life is change, but that change is so constant and incremental that it feels like every day is the just like the one before. Have a look around and we know the truth. Nothing is the same. Beginning with our perspective. We’ve simply moved to a newer place from which to assess our perch.

      Still, nothing is the same, nor will be again. We live and learn and grow, and tomorrow will be today, and then it will be no more but a memory of yesterday. The lesson? Our opportunity is always at hand. Don’t look so far ahead. We are where we are, and everything forever is right here awaiting our attention.

      All things must change. Beginning with us. Rise to meet it.