Alexandersmap

    Category: Habits

    • Going to Do

      “What’s the me in ten years going to think about what I did today?” – Hugh Howie, TKP Interview

      I wrote a 500 word post Friday night about what I was going to do, read it and tucked it away in the drafts folder. I won’t write about what I’m going to do, I’m just going to do it and write about it after I’ve accomplished something. I have nothing against planning, but I’ve been caught in the trap of making bold claims and not getting there. No more “We will go to the moon” proclamations, just set the goal and get it done. And then I listened to a couple of The Knowledge Project (TKP) podcast interviews I’ve been meaning to get to, and it clarified my thoughts on the matter. I’ve noted my short-term goals, and I’ll pursue them earnestly, but quietly.

      “A lot of our calcification, the inability to break our stasis and launch our lives in a different direction is the feeling that we should have done it ten years ago and we’ve lost the opportunity and now we can’t do it.  But ten years from now we’re going to think the same thing about this very moment, today…  whatever you think you could have done five or ten years ago to change the direction of your life, you can do that right now, today, and make that deflection point, that decision…” – Hugh Howie, TKP Interview

      I can look back and see deflection points throughout my life. Places where I did something that led me to something else that led me here. We all can, really. And sometimes you’ll wish you’d done this or that other thing along the way, or done more of something that clearly would have brought you further down the path to where you wish you were at. But Howie turns that around and points to the future you looking back on you today. Today is your deflection point – what will you do with it?

      And that brings me to another TKP podcast that the interviewer Shane Parrish highlighted in his newsletter; Robert Greene’s concept of alive time. It’s been borrowed and amplified by Ryan Holiday as well. I keep coming back to this concept, and the words “alive time” chirp in my ear whenever I waste time playing one-too-many games of computer chess or watching television or scrolling through political opinions on Twitter. No, you were meant for more than this, get to it already.

      “You really don’t own anything in life. When you’re born, and you come out of your mother’s womb, and you’re kicking and screaming, and you go through your 60, 70, 80, 90 years of life, you think that you own stock and money, and this, that, and the other, but really, you don’t own anything, because it all disappears, it all goes away, and you die, and there’s nothing left. The only thing, the only thing that you own, the only thing that we can say is that you own time. You have so much time to live. … Let’s just say you have 85 years to live. That is yours … Alive time is time that’s your own. Nobody tells you what to do, nobody is commanding you how to spend it. … Taking ownership of your time means I only have this much time to live, I’d better make the most of it, I’d better make it alive time, I’d better be urgent, have a bit of an edge, be aware of each moment as it’s passing and not in a fog.” – Robert Greene, TKP Interview

      So when we talk about this pandemic in ten years, how did it serve as a deflection point in your life? How did you use your alive time to pivot into a new and exciting pursuit? How did you use the extra time with family? What did you learn? What workout did you do that proved foundational in your path to better fitness? What’s the me in ten years going to think about what I did today?

    • For My Next Trip Around The Sun

      For my next trip around the sun, if I may be so presumptuous, I’ll try harder to meet the Aurora Borealis on its terms. Maybe finally catch those evasive Northern Lights, I really do need to meet up with them this time around.  I’ll travel again to faraway places.  Places previously unknown to me that caught my imagination in a travel article or a book.  Places that Google street view hasn’t posted online.  I know these places are out there, I’ve tried in vain to reach them with a mouse before.

      For my next trip around the sun, if good fortune should shine upon me, I’ll rest a hand on the trunk of a Sequoioideae, but first I’ll learn how to spell it without copy and paste.  I once spent a week within an hour’s drive of Redwood National Forest and never bothered to go visit.  Some excuse about work, I suppose.  I don’t recall that mattering in the end anyway.  Touching a redwood tree and looking up to the sky would have mattered far more.

      For my next trip around the sun, if the stars align and I make the full trip, I’m going to celebrate the graduation of my first born and prepare for the graduation of my second born.  The world has changed in ways that seemed fictional not too long ago, and presents challenges that you and your generation will rise up to meet.  I hope my generation and my parents generation does the same and you have something to build on.  The world isn’t fair, we all know that, but a few generations collaborating on solutions to the world’s problems seems a logical next step.  The world is ready for non-violent transformation.  Will it begin with now?

      For my next trip around the sun, should I be so bold, I’ll strive more.  Strive for more meaningful contributions, strive for more engagement in conversation, strive to be more disciplined in the food and drink I take in, strive to be more consistent with the daily habits that make a difference today and for however many trips around the sun you have left.  We all know what we should do, how many do it?  I strive to do it this time around the sun.   You know I’ll write about it, so feel free to poke and prod me should I fall behind.

      For my next trip around the sun, if it should come to pass, I’ll savor more.  Savor the sounds and sights and smells that make up the moments of the day.  Sip a little slower, chew a little more, slow down just enough, look up from the phone and see what’s happening around you.  Savor the time passing by instead of grabbing it tighter and watching it escape anyway, like beach sand in a tight fist.  Savor the long walks and the long talks and the short moments that catch your breath.

      For my next trip around the sun, should the gods look down upon my favorably, I’ll look up more.  Look up at the sky to track our progress over the next year.  Look up old friends you don’t talk to nearly enough.  Look up at the stars and learn to identify them by the way they align with other stars from our unique perspective in the universe.  Look  out, up and out again as the sun rises, warms the skin and the earth around you and drops down again below the horizon, as we all must do eventually.  And so you begin another trip around the sun.  Where will it take you?

    • Stay Up Late

      I stayed up so late last night that it was almost today. Apparently people still do this. Personally, I’ve grown too fond of early mornings over the years to spend much time up past 10 PM or so. We all choose the toll we want to pay of missing out. We can pick only one: late night fun, early morning productivity or sleep deprivation. Life is full of sacrifices.

      This is serious business of course. Marriages end on smaller things than sleep cycles. Like “why did you put the dishes away in that cabinet?” or “I was cleaning out the attic and threw away that box full of old stuff”, or something like that. Sleep cycles, and lack of sleep, amplify small annoyances into bigger things than they should be. When you’re socially isolating together for an extended time it’s best to minimize such sources of contention all around. We’ve learned long ago to give each other space. Hers is running and late nights. Mine is gardening and early mornings. We make it work.

      I’m not sure the standup comedian we watched on television was worth the hour of sleep I sacrificed, but the toll was paid, the coffee is hot, all will be forgiven. Just don’t do it every night. A life together is made up of these little special moments, repeated, with a soundtrack of The Association’s soothing greatest hits playing softly in the background. “Say, why did you put this dish in this cabinet? You know it’s always gone over here, right? I’m sorry? … okay, I think I’ll have another coffee. Would you like one too?”

      I think tonight I’ll get to bed at a decent hour…

    • Horses and Butterflies and Viruses

      “For years and years I struggled
      just to love my life. And then

      the butterfly
      rose, weightless, in the wind.
      “Don’t love your life
      too much,” it said,

      and vanished
      into the world.”
      – Mary Oliver, One or Two Things

      I woke up restless. It builds rather than dissipates as I go through my morning ritual of hydration and caffeine and reading. I recognize it immediately. The writing will be more difficult today, I thought, and surely it has been. I struggle at times with structure: chafing at rigidity and schedules and routine. But I chase these things anyway, thinking a proper to-do list brings order to life. My morning routine saves me more than it imposes on me, and today will be no different.

      Yesterday I walked four miles at lunchtime to shake off the feeling. In the last mile of the walk I saw the horses by the fence and eagerly anticipated saying hello to them when I reached the bottom of the hill. As I was thinking this another walker came into my vision, marched purposefully to the fence with his camera phone rising above his head and spooked the horses away. Resentment at this intrusion boiled in me until I realized it would have been reversed had I been in his shoes and he mine. The horses didn’t care which of us intruded first, only that they wanted no intruders. They stood at the edge of the fence because they’d found their end point of freedom. Yet rebelliously snuck their heads through the slats for a nibble of grass on the other side. I finished my walk with mixed feelings.

      Like most of the world I need to fly away from the cage; to weightlessly catch the wind and let it carry me away. To vanish into the world and return again someday, maybe. Such is life in the cage, it seizes the restlessness inside you and amplifies it. Serving the greater good staying in place offers mixed feelings as well. The virus doesn’t care who it intrudes upon, only that it has room to grow, and careless or prudent hosts alike offer that given the opportunity. The virus is restless too. Who’s patience will run out first?

    • A Different Street

      Yesterday I wrote about streets in faraway places that I loved walking. Last night I took a quiet walk on the street I live on to get reacquainted with the night sounds of early spring. I marveled at how alive it was. Not Royal Mile or La Rambla alive (for only a few streets are, really) but small New Hampshire town alive.

      I’ve walked less at night than I once did when Bodhi was with us and eager to leave his evening mark on the world. The habit went with him when he passed. Habits die unceremoniously, one day you’re on track and the next something comes up and, well, there you are with time gone by and no momentum in the old flywheel. But last night the restlessness rattled the lid just enough to get me up and out.

      Walking out into darkness requires adjustment. Your eyes? Naturally, but also the rest of your body adapts to a new environment. I felt right away that perhaps the coat was a little too light, the gloves not quite heavy enough for a slow walk but adequate for a brisk walk. I set about briskly, taking note of aches and pains from moving the house back to order after yet another renovation project. If social isolation has done anything positive, it’s given me the time to finish a long list of somedays. On balance I’d rather have the world right side up but there you go; upstairs is almost like new.

      Glancing up, I’m startled by the brilliance of Venus. She’s been making a fuss for some time now but goodness I felt someone changed her bulbs to LED’s last night. She scolded me for not being outside more, and ignored my long list of excuses. Venus has heard every excuse you know… she turned her attention back to Orion as he slowly brought the hunt relentlessly westward and downward beyond the horizon, where all the dancers go eventually. He’ll be back tonight, we can only hope we will be too.

      My attention turned to the other night sounds. The Great Horned Owls were having a long conversation about dining options or what to name their first hatched or maybe “look who decided to get his ass back outside“, I don’t speak enough owl to know for sure. All I know is they were animated – passionate even. Owl talk faded as I walked on and other sounds took over. First were the peepers and their nightclub mating chorus. Then the train whistle from miles away, sounding much closer in the cold stillness of the night. And when the whistling stopped the metallic sound of wheels on tracks continued for the duration of my walk. Why hadn’t I heard the wheels before? What made the night so still? Pandemic of course. There simply aren’t other sounds filling in; no cars humming by, no motorcycles in the distance, no dogs barking in neighborhoods in between. Even the owls and peepers seemed to be quietly listening. Nothing but the train wheels, the cold night stillness and me.

      The coat didn’t feel too thin by then. Briskness warms, and my legs kept their pace as my mind lingered on the stillness of the night. My mind was clear again, and turned from night sounds to plot twists and character development. My mind chewed on making magic for many steps more and I finally turned up the driveway and turned out the lights, leaving the street a little more still. One last march to close out March. This street, like so many streets now, more still than usual as we turn the calendar to a new month. Like the train and the peepers and the owls, I’m looking forward and thinking of what’s next. Venus smiles down and recognizes the folly in it all.

    • Avoiding Counterfeit Coins

      “Learn to recognize the counterfeit coins
      That may buy you just a moment of pleasure,
      But then drag you for days
      Like a broken man
      Behind a farting camel.”
      – Hafiz, Cast All Your Votes for Dancing

      Habits are great things when working for you, and your worst enemy when they’re conspiring against you.  In normal times I’d be chipping away at the usual mix of exercise, writing, reading, learning a language and having my day stacked up ahead of me in my bullet journal.  The upside down nature of this pandemic and the home renovations have challenged my habits, but I’m still chipping away at each of them.  Perhaps nothing has suffered more than my bullet journal, usually filled with meetings and travel.  I’ve decided I need to keep entering bullets to cross off, even if they’re smaller in scale than they were – what?  Two weeks ago?  Habits die when they aren’t fed.  And when good habits die bad habits fill the void.

      I deleted Facebook from my life in January, and honestly I don’t feel pangs of withdrawal.   It’s a massive distraction, designed to get you spun up in the random thoughts of family and friends.  Sharing pictures and life moments is great and all, but it was getting harder and harder to find any quality content without sifting through the swamp of political, religious and social commentary.  Freeing up the mindspace was refreshing.  But I’m finding Twitter conspiring to take over that space.  And Instagram, that perfect platform for sharing family photos, nature shots and travel pictures, and once a refuge from people’s opinions, is starting to get populated with people’s thoughts on the world (If I wanted your unsolicited thoughts on the world I’d get back on Facebook).  No, social media is a trap, designed to capture your attention and keep you from getting things done in this world.  I have things to do.

      We all are focused on the pandemic and the economic hit we’re all taking because of it.  Working from home changes you in ways that you don’t realize initially.  Over time you learn to be disciplined, both in doing the work that needs to be done and eventually turning the off switch and moving on to the other things in your life.  Where once I had to contend with a couple of cats interrupting a conference call, now I have two other people on their own webinars and calls in relatively close proximity to me.  It’s a new world and it requires more intense focus on positive habits, avoiding the temptation of checking Twitter or the latest headlines, and keeping a disciplined, focused calendar.

      This too shall pass.  It will change us in ways we don’t fully understand yet.  But ultimately events like this should be unifying and enabling.  Progress starts in the mirror, and feeding the habits that will carry us today and tomorrow and onward towards a better future. Bad habits lead to loss of control: frivolous spending leads to debt and maybe working at a job or two to makes end meet; frivolous spending of time leads to loss of productivity, and worse, wasting the one thing we can’t ever get back. Beware the validity of the coins you spend: Brief moments of pleasure can drag you for days, or a lifetime.

    • Touching Excellence?

      “In the absence of continual external reinforcement, we must be our own monitor, and quality of presence is often the best gauge. We cannot expect to touch excellence if “going through the motions” is the norm of our lives. On the other hand, if deep, fluid presence becomes second nature, then life, art, and learning take on a richness that will continually surprise and delight. Those who excel are those who maximize each moment’s creative potential—for these masters of living, presence to the day-to-day learning process is akin to that purity of focus others dream of achieving in rare climactic moments when everything is on the line… The secret is that everything is always on the line.” – Josh Waitzkin, The Art Of Learning

      I’m writing in the usual chair, with the cup of hot coffee well on its way down, with the cat over the shoulder in her usual way (excited tail swatting equals prey she’d burst through glass to catch) and I’ve run through the usual habit loop to get here. Routine is an essential part of productivity – no secret there – and the way you approach that routine matters as much as the routine itself – again, nothing revolutionary in that statement. So, knowing this, why don’t we all regularly touch excellence?

      I keep coming back to that Warren Buffett 5/25 strategy, and shake my head at the 25 things I’m currently doing. Working, writing, parenting and husband, home renovation projects (excellent timing on those), learning a language, trying to stay fit, and on and on. Josh Waitzkin wrote about touching excellence having focused completely on first chess and then Tai Chi. That’s a perfect strategy for touching excellence or achieving mastery at anything. Give up everything else in your life in pursuit of the one thing. And that’s why only a small percentage of people do it.

      It turns out sucking the marrow out of life requires a lot of work. Always “on” kind of work. You end up saying no to a lot of things you’d prefer to say yes to in that pursuit of excellence. So maybe pursuing pretty good will do? Personally, my priority list has shifted with the pandemic. I must complete the home renovations, I must keep my career objectives on track, and I must stay healthy. Everything else, including really important things (to me) like writing, learning a language and certainly travel have shifted into maintenance mode. Finish the home renovations and free up head space for one of those other 20 things. Simple, right?

      It really has to be that simple. I’m just not that good a juggler. Waitzkin’s perspective that “those who excel are those who maximize each moment’s creative potential” is certainly true, but it’s fair to also ask, what am I trying to excel in, and at what cost? The answer changes over time. Waitzkin wasn’t a National Chess Master while renovating a bathroom and balancing a career and family. I respect and am often awed at excellence, I just don’t find it a practical pursuit in my current situation. I’ll take excellence in balance, great at one or two other things and incremental improvement at the rest, thank you. Over time, maybe I’ll create an excellent body of work I can look back on (that’s surely a worthy goal), and celebrate the not-so-excellent-but-pretty-damned-good in my life too. Hopefully I’ll have that bathroom renovation project done first.

    • Working [Out] From Home

      If there’s any benefit to the current situation, it’s a spotlight shining on my home exercise equipment, most notably my Concept II Rowing Ergometer.  There are no excuses at the moment for not using it, or the weights or treadmill, or for simply going for a walk at least once a day.  I’m starting another streak today for consecutive days on the erg and consecutive days walking 10K or more steps.  I lost my previous streaks in both from heavy travel commitments for the first 11 weeks of 2020, but that seems like a distant memory now.

       Rowing 5000 meters per day doesn’t take much time, let’s call it 21-24 minutes for an average fitness level man (hey, that’s me!), but does a world of good for the body and mind. Walking 10,000 steps outdoors offers fitness, fresh air, some vitamin D and maybe a chance to see other humans from a safe distance. What a combination! Lifting weights a few times a week builds strength and fat-burning muscle. Combine all three and suddenly we’re in beach body shape by the time this curve is flattened.

      We all have the time to exercise. Use the commute time for exercise. Use some screen time for exercise. Use the excuse time for exercise. Just do it already. Maybe keep those lungs clear in the process. That alone seems a worthy goal. There’s no time like this crazy time to recommit to fitness. See you on the walk?

    • Breaking Ropes

      “If you don’t break your ropes while you’re alive
      do you think
      ghosts will do it after?”
      – Kabir

      When the world is upside down and stress boils up inside you, how do you set it free? I release it slowly on long walks, or feel it melt away listening to immersive music like the album Beyond The Missouri Sky (Short Stories) by Charlie Haden and Pat Metheny, or reading some Mary Oliver poetry (Thanks, Mary for the Kabir quote). I don’t often get stressed out, but the world can creep up on you sometimes. Tonight after a day of work and a few home renovation hurdles I was about at my limit. So I made mine a double: poetry and music. I listened to Missouri Sky twice before I forgot what I was stressed about. Turns out it wasn’t anything all that important.

      So back to Kabir; Part of my stress is a desire to get out and see the world, but blocked by ropes of my own making and a few that fate threw at us all. Seeing the world shut down in profound, unprecedented ways is a bit of a curveball, isn’t it? London, Scotland and even Nashville seem a long time ago. But this is no time for casual travel. No, not right now. Now we collectively try to flatten the damned curve. But there are other ropes to break besides travel. And it turns out those ropes are best broken with time and effort and isolation and thought.

      Life is short and unpredictable, and who can’t see that now? Given that, when else are you going to step up and break a few ropes that are holding you back? Seems now is really the only time to do it. Those Northern Lights and the Southern Cross will have to wait for healthier days. And my God I hope they return soon, I won’t waste a moment getting to them given the opportunity. Until then, break those writing ropes. Break those learning ropes. And let yourself free.

    • Let Setbacks Deepen Your Resolve

      “When aiming for the top, your path requires an engaged, searching mind. You have to make obstacles spur you to creative new angles in the learning process. Let setbacks deepen your resolve. You should always come off an injury or a loss better than when you went down. Another angle on this is the unfortunate correlation for some between consistency and monotony. It is all too easy to get caught up in the routines of our lives and to lose creativity in the learning process.” – Josh Waitzkin, The Art Of Learning

      I have two college kids who are looking at the next few weeks of online learning, cancelled events at school and the real possibility that the semester will be spent remotely. That’s a tough hand to be dealt to a college Junior, and even tougher for a college Senior. But that’s the world we live in at the moment. There’s nothing routine about a pandemic. Perhaps that jolt to our collective routine will spur unparalleled creativity and advancement. Perhaps we’ll collectively all watch Netflix. I hope for the former.

      When Waitzkin points out the unfortunate correlation for some between consistency and monotony, he includes the important qualifier for some. He rose to be one of the best in the world in a couple of very different pursuits (chess and martial arts) because he embraced monotonous routine instead of becoming bored and moving on to some other pursuit. Don’t we owe it to ourselves to find the magic in our own routine? How else do you achieve mastery?

      Today is the first day of working from home for a lot of people. I’ve worked from home for years, but always sprinkled with travel and meetings. I love activity, and now I need to focus on a different kind of activity. But so does everyone else. Included in that are a couple of twenty-somethings who get to experience a completely different college experience. We’re all on a new learning routine, every one of us, with new obstacles highlighting the frailties of our old routines. Time to step up – ready?