Alexandersmap

    Category: Learning

    • Directional Intent

      “What’s in store for me in the direction I don’t take?” — Jack Kerouac, The Subterraneans

      Last week I had a Zoom call with a couple of guys I had locked in the amber of Amherst, 1994, when I coached them both to a successful conclusion to their rowing careers. They graduated, I moved to another life that I’m still living, and we hadn’t spoken in 32 years. We’ve each gone our ways, and yet forged a bond that reverberated all these years later. That year changed everything about me, and was the foundation of all that has followed.

      It’s easy to look back on crossroads and wonder about the road not taken. Would it have made a difference had we gone in that direction instead of this? No doubt, but have a look around at all that’s surrounded us on this journey. A full, happy life begins with gratitude for the abundance of here and now.

      “The good life is a process, not a state of being. It is a direction not a destination.” — Carl Rogers

      I smile to myself at people who push me to change for change’s sake. Those helpful souls who want me to work harder, or retire immediately while I’m “young”, or some such change of direction. As if their direction is mine because they wish it to be so. The only direction that matters is moving towards the person we wish to become. Bold leaps are lovely things to behold, but most of life is subtle shifts in our course towards better.

      Subtle can feel like drifting if we aren’t paying attention—savoring the best of now, wherever we are. That old expression, this too shall pass isn’t just about surviving the challenging times in life, it’s about reminding ourselves that it’s all passing by so very quickly, so pay attention and celebrate all that is, even as we look towards all that may be.

      Some years stand out as milestone years. Looking back and wondering who we might have been had we simply continued on a different path may make us consider what we missed in that direction, or it may make us realize that the path we’ve taken has offered plenty. Our directional intent brought us here, and will eventually bring us there (wherever that is). Turns out today is our crossroads, always. All milestones start from here. The magic isn’t in believing it to be so, but in witnessing it all unfold from here.

    • A Ritual of Now

      If you’ll forgive the brag, the garden is looking good this year. A bit of good luck was (and is always) involved, with rain happening while traveling to mitigate the impact of irregular watering in my absence, followed by a well-timed return to tend to things when the heat rose. Whether luck or accumulated experience planting things that are happy in the microclimate I place them in, the garden is thriving. The outcome of our lives is a combination of luck and the steady influence of consistent action. We can debate the ratio, or simply accept what is and what will be.

      If you’re reading this, you’re bucking the trend in the United States to read less. I find myself writing a little less to read a little more. We give our time to what we want in the moment. I’d like to finish more books this year, even if it’s at the expense of a few more blog posts. We tend to become what we measure. Life is too short to do everything we want to do in our time. I’d like to devoir a few more books each year than my present pace.

      I’ve always been a contrarian, a maverick, a rebel. If only in my own mind. The truth is I generally follow the rules and chafe at those who don’t. That explains my overall dismay at the state of things in the country and the exuberance of those who celebrate the downward spiral. But I’m not here to preach and complain. Like you, friend, I’m here to make strides forward.

      I walk toward
      the kitchen
      door as if walking
      toward the
      door of a recognized
      heaven

      and see the
      simplicity
      of shelves and
      the blue dishes
      and the
      vaporing
      steam rising
      from the kettle
      that called me in.

      Not just this
      aromatic cup
      from which to drink
      but the flavor
      of a life made whole
      and lovely
      through the
      imagination
      seeking its way.
      — David Whyte, At Home

      The long, hot days of July are upon us. We ought to dance with each day while it remains our partner. Soon it will be but a summer fling with time gone by. We are here, now, living as we do. In the quest to become what’s next, we shouldn’t lose sight of what is. The way from here is worth contemplating, but never lose sight of the ritual of now. To celebrate and savor all of this is our bold act of presence. So be bold, and savor this day.

    • Love For the World

      “Imagine that you’re unwell and in a foul mood, and they’re taking you through some lovely countryside. The landscape is beautiful but you’re not in the mood to see anything. A few days later you pass the same place and you say, “Good heavens, where was I that I didn’t notice all of this?” Everything becomes beautiful when you change.” — Anthony De Mello, Awareness

      The world, such that it is, can be hard to take some days. As a glass half full operator, I work hard to skate my lane, leaving the pessimism and despair-at-everything to others. Life is short, after all, we must make of it what we may in our time. Still, it’s hard not to take note of the setbacks.

      Illegitimi non carborundum: Don’t let the bastards grind you down.

      Those bastards are on both sides of the political spectrum, dealing in despair and outrage and self-pity. They’re our worst enemies but sometimes also the people we love and trust the most, unloading their burden on us. But we don’t have to wear that fecal matter on our shoulders; we may choose to move ourselves away from the matter pilers altogether.

      I don’t say
      it’s easy, but
      what else will do
      if the love one claims to have for the world
      be true?
      — Mary Oliver, Lines Written in the Days of Growing Darkness

      It’s not easy to forgo outrage in an outrageous time, but it’s essential life force management for the aspiration of a beautiful soul. We don’t have to wear rose-colored glasses as we move through the world. Nor do we have to see it through a filter of pessimism, anger or misery. Simply see and be, with a bias towards beauty. When we add enough light the darkness retreats. Now how lovely is that?

    • The Resonance of the Ritual

      I have dreamed
      of accomplishment.
      I have fed

      ambition.
      I have traded
      nights of sleep

      for a length of work.
      Lo, and I have discovered
      how soft bloom

      turns to green fruit
      which turns to sweet fruit.
      Lo, and I have discovered

      all winds blow cold
      at last,
      and the leaves,

      so pretty, so many,
      vanish
      in the great, black

      packet of time,
      in the great, black
      packet of ambition,

      and the ripeness
      of the apple
      is its downfall.
      — Mary Oliver, The Orchard

      I spoke with an old friend this week about sailing and song. As sailors in my circle of friends tend to do, he lectured me on working too long into life, and did the quick math on life after work. So many pretty leaves, vanished in our time. And what lesson does it offer for us? We ripen so quickly, don’t we?

      I’m writing less, which means I’m publishing fewer blogs. Yet I’m living a fully aware, active life. We reach a point where the length of work is less important than the resonance of the ritual. In a world that is upside down, we find meaning in the little things stacked together just so. The aim hasn’t always been awareness, but surely it is now.

      Consider what we will never do in a lifetime. The list is far longer than the things we will do. There’s a restlessness that stokes a fire in us, pushing us to do more and still more with the time we have. If we’re lucky and aware, we learn what to leave behind as not for us. People, jobs, projects and places all recede from possible to probably not. We are forever reconciling our probably nots.

      Rather than dwell on probably nots, there is joyfulness to be found in the ritual of what we’ve said yes to. Each day is a dance with yes. It becomes less about filling bucket lists and more about more of this, please. The time will still fly by relentlessly, but the hours are measured in what we bring to the world.

    • The Path Becomes Clear

      “In the end, it is important to remember that we cannot become what we need to be, by remaining what we are.” — Max De Pree, Leadership Is an Art

      A couple of weeks ago in Paris, my bride and I were taking the Metro after a night around the city back to our hotel. We’d done this ride enough in our few days in Paris to have a clear idea of direction. But something unexpected happened; we stopped at a station and everyone was told to get off. The line was shut down because of an incident one stop away, which was exactly where we were heading to make a connection.

      Most people simply started walking, either to another line for an end-around, or got out of the Metro altogether to walk, Uber or attempt a taxi (no easy task with hundreds of people trying the same thing). One young man sat stubbornly in his seat, arguing with the Metro officers insisting he get off. What are we to do in such moments? Start with a map, or nowadays, an app, to show the way.

      Take the average of this blog and you may find it’s largely focused on the act of becoming what’s next. Decide what to be and go be it, as The Avett Brothers put it (so often quoted in this blog). Well, what happens when we arrive at what we wanted to be? Or just as often, what happens when the universe denies us the path we were on to reaching that place? We pivot and decide on what to do next.

      We are attracted to moving water over stagnated water because we intuitively know which is better for us. To be like water, fluid and forever transforming as life rolls on, is a path to avoid stagnation and more, to thrive. We are forever pulled in different directions. The needs of others in our lives are one pull. The current and future needs of ourselves is another. Work or other pursuits are right there pulling too. Write the book? Buy the boat? Move across town or to another country? Retire or work to the end of our days? So many choices, so precious little time to do it all. No wonder so many simply stay right where they are.

      We need a good compass in such moments. We need to stop talking so much and listen. The right way is calling, waiting for someone to pick up. That someone is us, buckaroo. Just what are we waiting for? Where to next? Calm down and have a look at what needs to be done next. The path out of confusion is always one step at a time.

      That night in Paris, we saw that the answer was to walk 20 minutes to a station where we could get directly on the Metro line we needed to be on to get back to our hotel. Every taxi had a red light. The Uber pickup area was jammed. Walking was our answer. So we walked with a gradually thinning crowd as each individual’s path became clear to them. We all have our path beyond the confusion of the moment. Sometimes we just have to pause a beat to see it and go be it.

    • Imaging Order

      “I would warn you that I do not attribute to nature either beauty or deformity, order or confusion. Only in relation to our imagination can things be called beautiful or ugly, well-ordered or confused.” — Baruch Spinoza

      The world may feel chaotic. Spinoza suggests that much of what we feel is stirred up from within—derived from our own perspective on things. It follows that we may find order in chaos with clear thinking and a calm mind.

      This year has felt chaotic for me, and perhaps for you too. In the craziest of times, it may not feel appropriate to slow down, but that’s exactly what we need the most. Order depends on us to root itself into something solid. Let that be our way of thinking about the world and our place in it. Imagine order and help it find it’s own foundation, that it may grow.

      In this way, we change the world from chaotic to something more beautiful. We are the line in the sand, standing our ground. A windbreak in the swirling madness. It may sting at times, but we guarantee a more stable future through our attitude and resilience.

    • The Emotional Landscape

      “When a man is prey to his emotions, he is not his own master.”
      — Baruch Spinoza

      The journey to personal excellence moves through an emotional landscape. To keep one’s head, to choose one’s reaction to any stimulus, moves us closer to mastery of the mind. Like arete, we will never reach mastery in anything, but we may move closer than we thought possible on our climb.

      Is it a climb or a labyrinth of our own making? Sometimes, when we feel like we’re walking around in circles, it feels very labyrinth-like. But have a glance at just how far we’ve ascended as we build our lives, one lesson upon the other. Keep calm and carry on, the British Ministry of Information would say in the darkest of times of World War II. And so must we in our own time

      “The more clearly you understand yourself and your emotions, the more you become a lover of what is.” — Baruch Spinoza

      Amor fati. Love of fate. We work towards mastery of the self despite the present madness we believe we’re in. There’s always been madness, meanness and unfairness. As Viktor Frankl reminded us, choosing how we react to the world as it presses upon us from all sides, while also trying to eat at us from within, is the only thing we truly control.

    • 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.

    • Doing Our Damndest

      “Life happens too fast for you ever to think about it. If you could just persuade people of this, but they insist on amassing information.” ― Kurt Vonnegut

      Every day is another stack of life lessons. It’s all a blur—a rapidity of memories rushing past. Right to the end. And to borrow from Vonnegut again, so it goes.

      I shake my head at all the books I’ve read trying to find answers to life’s questions. Philosophy, business, poetry, history, a taste test of the world religions, biographies of the greats, and that lumpy guilty pleasure category that I shudder to think about as I get older, self-help. What we consume comes to consume us. So we ought to make it as nutritious as possible.

      Looking back on a list of goals I stumbled across from three decades ago, I saw that I’d accomplished some, I’d thrown others onto the pile of “not in this lifetime”, and one or two still gnaw at my soul, awaiting my attention. In this way, I’m like everyone else who’s ever lived long enough to see the past receding into the distance. If we’re lucky, we’ll reach the end feeling like we’ve done enough.

      Enough. What is enough anyway? It’s a question that rises up within as we get older. Is this enough or should we do more still? Just when are we going to slow down and enjoy where we are now? We can’t possibly do everything, we can only decide what to be and do our damndest to be it. Maybe we’re already there.

    • Changing Tunes

      Don’t worry about a thing
      ‘Cause every little thing gonna be alright
      — Bob Marley & The Wailers, Three Little Birds

      I was reading an old journal I wrote when I was separating from my first wife (a long, long time ago). Honestly, I’d forgotten that I’d written it, let alone kept it, and forgotten who that guy was who was struggling with that moment. Thanks for the reminder, I guess. We remember the lowest moments, but not always the daily slog through the darkness.

      If I could go back to that guy and tell him anything, it would be to stop listening to Pearl Jam’s “Black” and listen to Bob Marley’s “Three Little Birds” instead. Because everything would be all right, as soon as I stepped out of that miserable cycle of a failing marriage and stepped towards the uncertainty of a far brighter future. We all go through our share of crap. Why swim in it any longer than we absolutely have to? Move on to brighter days.

      Within a few months everything changed for me. I’m still riding that wave of brighter days all these years later. I just needed to find the right person to spend forever with. And realize that every little thing was gonna be alright. Sometimes we just have to change our tune to a better soundtrack for the place we wish to go to.