Alexandersmap

    Category: Learning

    • Fears, Growth and Energy

      “If we do not have the depths, how do we have the heights? Yet you fear the depths, and do not want to confess that you are afraid of them. It is good, though, that you fear yourselves; say it out loud that you are afraid of yourselves. It is wisdom to fear oneself. Only the heroes say that they are fearless. But you know what happens to the hero.” — Carl Jung, The Red Book

      “Resistance is experienced as fear; the degree of fear equates to the strength of Resistance. Therefore the more fear we feel about a specific enterprise, the more certain we can be that that enterprise is important to us and to the growth of our soul.” — Steven Pressfield

      I’m not particularly afraid of the dark, but when I walk the dog at night I still bring a flashlight with me. Part of that is practical (try scooping up dog poop without light) and part of that is hedging my bets. I may not need the flashlight to see, but if a pack of coyotes decided to come out of the woods to face down my dog and me, seeing clearly slightly improves our odds.

      The thing is, we’re much more likely to encounter shit in our daily reconciliation with life than a pack of wild animals. But we must build resilience for those black swan events anyway. It’s only when we put ourselves in a fragile or vulnerable state that we are truly in peril.

      There are different kinds of fear we humans must face. Let’s start with the fear of the known and the fear of the unknown. Both are heavy hitters, aren’t they? If we know for sure that we’re going to have the crap kicked out of us, there’s an element of fear about the danger we clearly see approaching us, whether that crap-kicker is a person, animal or a storm, we know we’re in big trouble and it’s scary. All we can do in such moments is hope that we’re resilient, skilled or lucky enough to survive.

      Then there’s the fear of the unknown. Anyone who’s watched Jaws knows that the shark is much scarier before you really see it than it is afterwards. Likewise, fear of the dark is fear of what you don’t see. What we don’t know is far scarier than what we do know.

      We ought to condition ourselves to face our fears and do things anyway. I regularly begin most conversations with strangers rather than shrink back into myself, just to see where it takes us. I don’t mind speaking up at public events because I’ve conditioned myself to do it. Anyone can do that, if they really want to. Just do the scary thing, face the unknown and realize whatever the worst thing we imagined would happen wasn’t all that bad in reality. Then do it again.

      I currently have an underlying fear of the unknown with the United States Presidential election coming up Tuesday. I can’t control anything but my own vote, but I can fear for the future of democracy. Likewise I can fear the rising environmental crisis, the impact of artificial intelligence in everything from fake news to the proficiency of hackers to the ability of AI to take away the jobs of creative people. It’s all unknown and a little scary when you think about it.

      The thing is, everything I just mentioned are forces outside of my control. The only way to navigate these kinds of unknowns is one at a time. Bring the flashlight and phone when you walk in dark places. Live in a home situated above the 100 year flood zone. Buy insurance. Diversify investments. Exercise and eat well that we have a strong foundation for the inevitable health challenges that comes in time for all of us. Build layers of protection into our lives and we put ourselves in a position to survive and maybe even thrive. But still, vote like your country depends on it.

      Still with me? I know this is a long one, but fear is a deep topic. And we haven’t even gotten to the biggest fear of all: fear of failure. This is the ultimate unknown staring us down between the ears. Fear of failure makes a lot of sense if we’re walking a tight rope or doing a free solo rock climb high up on a cliff. The consequences aren’t nearly so high in most cases. Most failure bears out as embarrassment or setbacks—things we can learn from that lead to growth.

      So do ask the dumb question, ask out the person you want to be with, take the leap of faith on the job that is very different from the last one. We never know until we try. But in each case, do the work to be prepared for the moment. Informed “dumb” questions are better than ignorant dumb questions. Having the emotional intelligence to be with the person you’re asking out improves one’s odds of success when asking them out. Developing the skillset to handle the job we aspire to inevitably leads to better results than simply winging it when we walk in the door on day one.

      It all comes back to that invaluable Boy Scouts motto: Be prepared. When we’re prepared for the moment the moment becomes less scary. So prepare! And know what failure really means before taking the calculated risk. This is what gives us the best opportunity for success. When we’re prepared and know we’ve done the work, fear may still tingle the spine, but it’s transformed into productive energy.

    • The Start of Something New

      “One is never afraid of the unknown, one is afraid of the known coming to an end.” — Jiddu Krishnamurti

      Last month I left a job I’d been in for 6 1/2 years. It was coming to an end for some time, and the company did me the favor of reminding me that I was an employee at will. I have another job lined up and ready to go in a couple of weeks, so there’s no real underlying stress in the move, more a move from that which I’d grown comfortable with to a move towards something completely different. So it goes. In my mind it was a necessary sabbatical, and the time filled with consequential experiences I might have missed otherwise.

      Ending anything can be hard, especially if the ending wasn’t our choice. We’ve all had our heart broken at some point in our lives. Holding on for dear life isn’t a good look in relationships, in a career, or really with anything we know we must let go of. Still, there’s something exhilarating about starting something entirely new. We learn through all the changes we go through in a lifetime that change in itself is usually for the better. The hard part is letting go of what we once had. Yet it’s still a part of us, isn’t it?

      What is known is comfortable for many (and stale for others). Conversely, what is unknown is either scary or tantalizing, depending on how ready we are for change. Each encounter with the unknown makes us more prepared for the next. In a lifetime of change, we learn that each is simply another step forward for us, even when it may feel like going backwards. Indeed, life is change, ready or not. Why hold on to something simply because it’s comfortable when our time here is so short? Dance with the unknown. Start something new.

    • Stories to Tell

      He who does not travel, who does not read,
      who can not hear music,
      who does not find grace in himself,
      she who does not find grace in herself,
      dies slowly.
      He who slowly destroys his own self-esteem,
      who does not allow himself to be helped,
      who spends days on end complaining about his own bad luck, about the rain that never stops,
      dies slowly.
      — Martha Medeiros, Die Slowly

      Sure, this blog is one big reminder to live in the moment and to savor it all. Amor fati already! The aim is a counter narrative to the relentless soundtrack of outrage, nihilism and distraction found in most media platforms nowadays. Be the change you wish to see in the world and all that. In this way the blog is a lifeline to anyone who needs to hear it, beginning with the author.

      What became clear a thousand posts or so ago is that writing a blog is a solitary act of self reflection shared with the world, or at least the few that seek it out or stumble upon it. Travel, reading, music, gardening, hiking—whatever it is we’re exploring in the season and discovering within ourselves ought to be fair game. Every day is a statement of here we are.

      We are alive today, and maybe not tomorrow. We must heighten our appreciation for that gift and find within ourselves the grace to accept and carry the weight of our brief shelf life. Not to dwell on it, just to acknowledge it as a compelling reason to jump back into the dance with life.

      So bravo to the adventurous spirits who seize their precious lives and get after it. We all should be so bold. You do you, I’ll do me, and perhaps we’ll meet on the dance floor one day soon. If we are blessed to meet again, may we each have our share of intriguing stories to tell.

    • Productive Change

      “Should you find yourself in a chronically leaking boat, energy devoted to changing vessels is likely to be more productive than energy devoted to patching leaks.” ― Warren Buffett

      Some of us are inclined towards change, and force ourselves to stick with things longer than we might otherwise to see them through. Sometimes (as with a great marriage) the journey is worth the ebb and flow of a life together. Other times, as with a job or a house or an acquaintance, you find that the return on investment isn’t working out. Change can be the most productive energy we can spend in such moments.

      It’s possible to stay in a house too long. Neighborhoods change as the neighbors do. The stairs and furniture we’ve easily navigated our whole lives can become impossible obstacles when we grow old and frail. My own neighborhood is full of the same people that were here when I built this house years ago, and I’m seeing it all play out as it did for my in-laws, where they all grew too old to navigate the familiar but did it for too long anyway.

      I recently left a job I’d been in for years when flat year-over-year growth turned into a down year. There was no exit interview, which indicates they feel they have it all figured out. So their chronic leaks will probably continue. My own energy can be put into a better vessel. It turns out my timing was good with a receptive market ready for my skillset. It was never the company brand I was bringing to the market, but my own.

      A sound vessel with a good crew can weather almost any storm. It remains sound through maintenance and awareness of the forces bringing change. The same can be said for the crew. Together they can travel through time and place, picking up tales of adventure along the way. But time conquers all, and eventually the vessel or the crew need to change. Houses can be homes for generations of owners. Companies can grow with a new crew. And people can find a better way though this world on a different vessel.

      Change for its own sake is frivolous and wasteful. Change must be strategic and ultimately productive. But the same can be said for sticking with something instead of changing. It does us no good to forever bail a ship that is clearly sinking. Our habits, systems and routines, alliances with others, organizations we join, companies we represent in the market, the places we live and the vehicles that carry us to them—are all vessels that are either carrying us somewhere or sinking into the abyss. The question we ought to be asking ourselves is, is our energy being put into the right place or is it time for a change?

    • Leaning Into Constraints

      “When everything is possible, nothing is possible. But when we lean into external and internal constraints by choice, the possibilities, ironically, open up to us.” — Chase Jarvis, Never Play It Safe

      “The soul becomes dyed with the color of its thoughts.” — Marcus Aurelius, Meditations

      I have a trip coming up in the near future. There’s no winging it when it comes to which airport I’m driving to, which airline I’m boarding, when the doors close or which seat I’ve been assigned. Likewise, I’m pretty sure I’m on the same page with the pilot about which city we’re flying to. When I arrive I know I’ll have a room waiting for me, a few reservations already made and so on. Constraints can be helpful guardrails for an otherwise unconstrained weekend. Too many constraints can feel confining, too few chaotic. We feel when we’ve arrived at our comfortable medium.

      We function within constraints all the time, often without thinking about it. We are constrained by laws, time, borders, finances… and on and on. But the most persistent constraints are internal. We have an identity that is boxing us into who we are and what we do. We reinforce this with the friends we accumulate around us. Skate your lane, friend, and I’ll skate mine. Together we’ll skate to some distant point in our frozen future.

      Constraints can be limiting. When we get too comfortable we miss out on everything possible that resides outside our current comfort zone. On that upcoming trip I’ve left far more open space in between than scheduled time. There’s a lot to be said for those skip the line tours at the Vatican, for example, but you realize immediately that most of them just put you in a different line, and within a different box than you might have been in otherwise. The lesson is to buy the tickets, but leave room for chance too.

      The thing is, constraints can be highly effective at focusing our attention. There’s nothing like a deadline to keep us on track with a project. When we build the right kind of restraints into our lives, we focus on productive use of our limited time on earth (the ultimate constraint). Being rigid with some things allows us to create the identity we aspire to. Decide what to be and go be it. I write and publish every day, no matter where I am in the world (or within my own head). This blog is surely meaningless in eternity, but it means something to me in the moment.

      What color are we dying our soul? Our habits and routines, our very beliefs in who we are and why we’re here today, will determine the next step on our journey (up, down or sideways). Some useful constraints put us in our place, but they can also move us to a new place. A better place, full of possibility.

    • The Highest Possible Thing

      “It’s so silly in life not to pursue the highest possible thing you can imagine, even if you run the risk of losing it all. You can’t be an artist and be safe.” — Francis Ford Coppola

      To reach for something beyond our present capabilities is to risk something tangible, be it a hit to our reputation, our financial or physical wellbeing, or our precious time. It’s easier to just do what everyone wants of us, rather than to keep answering the same old questions about what we’re going to do with our lives. That question is so common that it auto-filled as I typed it.

      The thing is, we waste so much time just answering the damned question instead of simply pursuing the dream that most people never ship the work. Wait too long and that dream dies with us one day. Talk about losing it all…

      That voice of reason means well for us, but it thinks small. Nothing perfectly reasonable turns out to be great. Reasonable only leads to “fine”, as in, “How’s everything going for you, old friend?” Our confidant who once knew our secret dream back in the day asked. “Oh, it’s going fine.” We respond, and all that was lost but unsaid was revealed.

      When it comes time to put our highest aspirations ahead of the feeble excuses about time and commitments or the expectations of our tribe, we must train ourselves to forget reasonable. The biggest risk is wasting the present in the futile hope that tomorrow will be any different. There is no tomorrow, old friend: Take the bold route now.

    • The Only One

      “We have two lives, and the second begins when we realize we have only one.” — Confucius

      Blame it on autumn, or maybe the series of life events I’m currently passing through, but it feels like life is starting over again. Every moment we’re fully alive offers that opportunity of course, but stack enough stuff on the scale and the balance tips enough. Enough for what? For whatever is next in this one wild and precious life, as Mary Oliver so vividly put it.

      This is it, last time I checked, so let’s make the most of our time together. Double down on adventure, take calculated risks more frequently, do the “one day” bucket list things in this time bucket while we have the vitality to experience all it might offer. Defer deferral for a [real] change.

      So stop wasting time already! This is all we have left. Practice active savoring in this one and only dance through life. We can be co-conspirators while the rest of the world marches on thinking there will always be a tomorrow. Let’s not waste a second on such illusions. Seize what flees.

    • What Our Situations Hand Us

      They say that these are not the best of times
      But they’re the only times I’ve ever known
      And I believe there is a time for meditation
      In cathedrals of our own
      Now I have seen that sad surrender in my lover’s eyes
      And I can only stand apart and sympathize
      For we are always what our situations hand us
      It’s either sadness or euphoria
      — Billy Joel, Summer, Highland Falls

      We would be naive to believe that every day would be sunshine and roses. We must build ourselves up to become resilient, accept our fate whatever it happens to be, and manage our situations as best we can. Amor fati indeed.

      If there’s a problem with the world today, it’s this feeling of entitlement and privilege that develops through comfort and distraction. Collectively we lose our capacity to manage the waves of challenges that life throws at us. We build resilience through stressors in our lives, just as we build perspective and empathy by getting out of our own heads and seeing what the rest of the world is dealing with. It turns out quite a lot, actually, and we aren’t the center of the universe after all.

      Philosophy isn’t an escape, it’s a set of tools that help us manage whatever situation we happen to be in now. It tempers us when things are going well, and keeps us afloat when we feel like we’re drowning in it all. It turns out there is a time for meditation, and there is that ultimate power to choose our response between stimulus and response, as Viktor Frankl pointed out to us.

      Somewhere between sadness and euphoria is our normal state. We go through life learning lessons, adding tools to our kit that we may use when we plummet into challenges or soar into bliss. We learn what we can control or influence and what simply happens no matter what we do. Amor fati is simply accepting it all for what it is. We are human after all.

    • Making Full Use of the Decade

      “Don’t try to be young. Just open your mind. Stay interested in stuff. There are so many things I won’t live long enough to find out about, but I’m still curious about them. You know people who are already saying, ‘I’m going to be 30—oh, what am I going to do?’ Well, use that decade! Use them all!”
 — Betty White

      If life is a series of time buckets, we ought to be making the most of each bucket we happen to reside in at this particular stage of our life. My entire life transformed from 10 to 20, and again from 20 to 30, and so on to now. The decade I’m in has been revelatory for the transformation it has brought to my life and for the speed with which it’s going by. It all flies by, we just have to make full use of the time.

      Each decade is a climb, and climbs are filled with setbacks, false summits, detours and exhausting ascents that seem to go on forever without relief. Alternatively, we might look at the decade as meandering through a maze, encountering all sorts of interesting or even terrifying paths, with a series of dead ends we must back away from, before we reach the other side. Whatever life means to us, it ought to be exhilarating and interesting as we begin each day, for this stage of our lives is rapidly coming to an end, and the next is just around the corner.

      The key is staying interested, as Betty White pointed out, and with our interest sparked getting fired up for the next. To explore what lies just beyond where we’ve been thus far is a lifetime adventure which we can all subscribe to. Be bold! This next decade will fly by too, and what will our memories be then? We must exploit each leap into the unknown for all it offers in order to live a full life.

    • Chopping the Frozen Sea

      “I think we ought to read only the kind of books that wound or stab us. If the book we’re reading doesn’t wake us up with a blow to the head, what are we reading for? So that it will make us happy, as you write? Good Lord, we would be happy precisely if we had no books, and the kind of books that make us happy are the kind we could write ourselves if we had to. But we need books that affect us like a disaster, that grieve us deeply, like the death of someone we loved more than ourselves, like being banished into forests far from everyone, like a suicide. A book must be the axe for the frozen sea within us. That is my belief.” ― Franz Kafka

      I’ve been investing in a lifetime of learning that began in earnest right about when I started writing this blog. That doesn’t mean I wasn’t learning before that, but it was learning filled with distraction and ulterior motivation: simply put, I was too busy raising children and building a career to dive deeply into the things I wanted to learn about, and so I deferred much of it until the kids were off to college and the career was somewhat established. This second stage of life is ideal for reinventing ourselves, and so the quest commenced.

      A string of habits occurred all at once. I finally started writing every day instead of telling myself to do it one day. Similar habits began around learning a second language, finding something uniquely interesting about whatever place I happened to be in when traveling and of course reading in earnest. The reading in particular has evolved from heavy fiction with a layering of history to heavier works of philosophy, history, science, etc. We become what we consume, after all. And driving it all is an underlying feeling of having fallen behind that has me striving to accelerate my pursuit of learning to catch up. This hasn’t abated over time.

      That driver shouldn’t be underestimated. To seek knowledge is to acknowledge an emptiness within us that we must fill. Each layer of learning is growth that brings us to a more complete version of our potential, yet also offers a vantage point from which to see all that we’ve missed on our singular pursuit, and so another quest begins, and so on. As the frozen sea is released, we find we may inch closer to a desired place, but the chopping never ends until we do.

      This all comes back to that version of excellence reserved only for the gods—Arete. I’ve known the word since I was an underclassman in college, but that didn’t inspire me to reach for it at the time. I simply wasn’t intellectually or emotionally developed enough to pursue excellence at a level beyond being a big fish in the small pond I swam in then. That pond flowed into a stream that became a river that brought me to the vast ocean, where I looked around and realized I’d better get to work growing.

      The thing is, I don’t aspire to be the biggest fish in the ocean anymore, I simply want to grow closer to my potential. Shouldn’t we all aspire to arete, even knowing we’ll never quite reach it? We must keep chopping away at the things that have locked us in place for far too long. What we learn is that the frozen sea isn’t something external, it’s within us, holding back the universe. Like Michelangelo chipping away at the marble to reveal the sculpture hidden within, we too must chip away to find what was hidden within all along.