Alexandersmap

    Category: Learning

    • Wants and Needs

      “Your satisfaction is what you have, divided by what you want.”
      ― Arthur C. Brooks, From Strength to Strength

      “Satisfaction comes not from chasing bigger and bigger things, but paying attention to smaller and smaller things.”
      ― Arthur C. Brooks, From Strength to Strength

      “Don’t forget it: he has most who needs least. Don’t create needs for yourself.” — Josemaría Escrivá

      This business of creating needs is familiar. Just now I’m distracted by the perceived need to buy a book I’ve heard about, knowing I have a stack of unread books on the shelf. We want what we want in this lifetime, and either push the thought away to focus on what we have or we let it gnaw at us like a teething puppy gnaws at furniture. Which reminds me, I wanted a puppy recently, and reconcile myself to the lifestyle changes she’s imposed upon me ever since (she filled a tangible void in an empty nest, but she also fills poop bags with surprising efficiency).

      The thing is, to find peace in this marketing-induced manic world, we must find satisfaction in the little things in our lifetime. Life is more satisfying when you stop craving every shiny new thing that splashes across your preferred media feed. We can never keep up with the Joneses, and why would we want to anyway?

      During the pandemic I began watching YouTube sailing videos, and soon began craving the lifestyle myself. Wouldn’t it be nice to own a boat and just slide into some beautiful cove for sunset before allowing the gentle rocking of the waves lull you to blissful sleep? Wouldn’t it be nice to pull up anchor and sail anywhere in the free world? It sure seems like a dream. But I soon realized that it’s not my dream, not at this point in my life. Put another way, a boat is a really nice place to visit but I wouldn’t want to live there. Give me a quiet garden and some body of water to plunge into now and then and I’m generally happy.

      Yet the wanderlust remains. The call of places unseen stirs something deep inside. Is this want a need? The question we always must ask is, what will I say no to in order to say yes to this? Another question to ask is whether this is the time for this yes in my life or is it best deferred to another time bucket in this life? Combined these questions resolve a lot of impulsive decisions and bring peace to a restless soul.

      That puppy who was gnawing on furniture not too long ago has become a sweet, energetic companion. My bride and I know the tradeoffs of having such responsibilities in our life once again, but we also know that it’s what we needed, not just what we wanted in some moment of impulsiveness. Let others chase those shiny new toys, those biggers and betters, we’re doing just fine with what we have.

    • Faster Things

      Last Sunday morning, the sunshine felt like rain
      The week before, they all seemed the same
      With the help of God and true friends, I’ve come to realize
      I still have two strong legs, and even wings to fly
      So I, ain’t a-wastin time no more
      ‘Cause time goes by like hurricanes, and faster things
      — Gregg L. Allman, Ain’t Wastin’ Time No More

      The years fly by, and we begin to notice this at our own pace. Sometimes it takes a tragedy to shake us out of the fog of distraction, as it did for Gregg Allman when his brother Duane died in a motorcycle accident, prompting lyrics like those above. When someone is taken from us in the prime of life it shakes the survivors around that person to the core. At some point, if we’re lucky, we awaken to the reality of memento mori without being turned upside down by tragedy, and simply begin at last to live in earnest.

      The whole point of remembering that we all must die is to live now, while there’s still time. It’s easier said than done, as life piles on the busy. Life will never be perfectly aligned to do everything we possibly could do in our lifetime, but if we focus on essential things we might feel we’ve done enough. A lifetime is always a faster thing than we care to believe, so a bit of structure and purpose go a long way towards feeling we did what we could in the time we have.

      The trick is to structure is to put everything in it’s season. Bill Perkins called this time buckets in his book Die With Zero. Using time buckets, we may prioritize what is most essential now, and what can (and cannot) be deferred to later. For example, I may never hike the Appalachian Trail as I thought I might at 20, but I can still chip away at other things that require the fitness and time I have available now for other worthy life goals. But how do you determine what is essential when if you don’t make the time to make the list and assign it to its proper time? We are what we prioritize. Use this time bucket to map out all the rest.

      Since I began writing this post we’ve seen a few famous people pass away, and we’ve all collectively gained another week of experience in our lifetime. Those sands keep pouring out of the hourglass, whether we’re ready for it or not. Our best chance at a full lifetime is to wrestle with our days one at a time, but with the structure of an overriding purpose and plan for how to use each season. Because time goes by like hurricanes, and faster things.

    • Unhurried and Wise

      “Shams and delusions are esteemed for soundest truths, while reality is fabulous. If men would steadily observe realities only, and not allow themselves to be deluded, life, to compare it with such things as we know, would be like a fairy tale and the Arabian Nights’ Entertainments. If we respected only what is inevitable and has a right to be, music and poetry would resound along the streets. When we are unhurried and wise, we perceive that only great and worthy things have any permanent and absolute existence, that petty fears and petty pleasures are but the shadow of the reality. This is always exhilarating and sublime. By closing the eyes and slumbering, and consenting to be deceived by shows, men establish and confirm their daily life of routine and habit everywhere, which still is built on purely illusory foundations.” — Henry David Thoreau, Walden

      I logged on to a Software-as-a-Service account I use for work thinking I’d quickly check a box that was nagging me. Upon login I was prompted for a mandatory password change, adding another box to check instead of eliminating one. So it is that even the quickest tasks lead to more tasks, and the whirl spins our heads just when we think we have it all figured out.

      Some of us aspire to be unhurried and wise. Certainly, during the pandemic we all examined our priorities. Many pivoted to more meaning, while others leaped back into the familiar trap of distraction. I was somewhere in between, with an inclination to seek waterfalls and summits balanced by a series of compelling shows streaming on too many services to count that I simply had to catch up on so I could keep up with the conversation. I never quite met my objective on either count, but don’t feel compelled to finish any of them at the moment. Checking boxes is a game, and there are times in our life when we grow tired of games.

      When we make time for nature and poetry in our lives, we aren’t being frivolous, we’re seeking the essential. To do this properly is to eliminate distraction and focus on where we are now. Some of us become masterful in adding one more thing to the list, thinking it will be the one thing that will fulfill us or at least make the day complete. This is a form of frenzy, which is never an attractive state. Better to shorten the list than shorten our state of awareness and calm. The goal of life should never be to rush through it.

      If I aspire to anything in this stage of life, it’s to move closer to unhurried and wise. By all accounts I’ve got a long way to go in both respects, but there’s no rushing to unhurried, and there’s no shortcut to wise. It begins with shorter lists and lingering longer on the quietly beautiful magic around us. Some tasks are inevitable, but they should never be at the expense of what has a right to be in this moment.

    • Changing Filters

      “From every pore or living cell of our bodies and from all our senses we are getting feedback from reality. But we are filtering things out constantly. Who’s doing the filtering? Our conditioning? Our culture? Our programming? The way we were taught to see things and to experience them? Even our language can be a filter. There is so much filtering going on that sometimes you won’t see things that are there.” —

      Having dinner with some bright people, Anthony De Mello came up. And I perked up. Not enough people reference De Mello, and I appreciate when someone does. To have read his book Awareness is to shake the tree of what we believe. To read it again and again to absorb what he is telling us is to change our filters. We see the world and our place in it differently.

      “You only change through awareness and understanding. When you see a stone as a stone and a scrap of paper as a scrap of paper, you don’t think that the stone is a precious diamond anymore and you don’t think that that scrap of paper is a check for a billion dollars. When you see that, you change.” — Anthony De Mello, Awareness

      The irony of De Mello coming up at all was the group I was with were highly-driven people in my career. They are all fueled by purpose and passion beyond making money, and sometimes you don’t see the truth right in front of you. It prompted me to re-read passages from Awareness again, to clear my filters.

      It helps to do regular maintenance on ourselves. What we believe is often just acquired filters. Changing these filters opens up a whole new perspective.

    • Existing Determinedly

      “The content of our truth depends upon our appropriating the historical foundation. Our own power of generation lies in the rebirth of what has been handed down to us. If we do not wish to slip back, nothing must be forgotten; but if philosophizing is to be genuine our thoughts must arise from our own source. Hence all appropriation of tradition proceeds from the intentness of our own life. The more determinedly I exist, as myself, within the conditions of the time, the more clearly I shall hear the language of the past, the nearer I shall feel the glow of its life.” — Karl Jaspers, Philosophy of Existence (Existenzphilosophie)

      This idea of reading and weaving the philosophical work of past greats into our own lives today is nothing new, yet so many only read new books. If these new books are inspired and drawn from the great thinkers of the past, then doesn’t it make sense to dive deeply into the source material? Put another way, if we are to be a part of the Great Conversation, we must first be conversationally competent. Seek first to understand, then to be understood, as Stephen Covey put it.

      Sitting at the dinner table with some highly intelligent people this evening, the conversation moved from business talk to philosophy, history and religion. Being able to keep pace with these folks doesn’t elevate me to a place of prominence, but it surely makes the evening more interesting than it otherwise might have been. It also makes me more inclined to speak up, and to be listened to by others. Of course, we don’t seek knowledge to be more interesting, but to dive deeper into our own development as human beings. What is the glow of life but feeling fully engaged in the moment? Of rising to meet it?

    • The Freedom of Inaction

      “Nature knows no pause in progress and development, and attaches her curse on all inaction.” — Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

      “The human race is a monotonous affair. Most people spend the greatest part of their time working in order to live, and what little freedom remains so fills them with fear that they seek out any and every means to be rid of it.” — Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

      The 28th of August is Goethe’s birthday, so I thought it fitting to reflect on two quotes that, on the face of it, seem to contradict each other. Quotes have a way of expressing what you want them to, without the depth and nuance of the longer work they’re drawn from. We live in a soundbites culture, after all, and the lede is all some people want to read. We know Goethe went far deeper, and owe it to ourselves to jump into the deep end ourselves, don’t we?

      On the one hand, we know it to be true that momentum is sustained by continuous action (Stephen Covey would have said pushing the flywheel), yet on the other know that rest is as essential to our long term wellbeing as action is(Covey’s sharpening the saw). They don’t contradict, they aggregate. As with everything else in life, balance is the key.

      As I close out the final miles of a walking challenge I made for myself this summer, I see the cumulative benefit of it in better fitness even as I feel the soreness from some long walks to close out the goal. We know when we ought to rest more, and ignore it at our peril. This is true in everything. Taking some time off from work last week, I anticipated long walks balanced by long stints on the beach diving into the stack of books I’d been collecting for the occasion. That beach time largely evaporated as I conceded time to projects that simply had to get done. The feeling of watching the week slip away with most of that stack of books unread was akin to feeling like you missed your flight as it departed the gate.

      The thing is, there’s freedom in inaction. Deliberate down time without distraction forces us to sort things out in both body and spirit, and clear the way for the next phase of action to follow. That compulsion to do more instead of embracing essential rest eventually catches up to us. I return from time off feeling there was unfinished business, unlike a few weeks ago when sailing, where plugging in or doing projects simply weren’t options. So it seems the key for relaxation is to eliminate any means to rid ourselves of the freedom of inaction. This shouldn’t be physically removing ourselves from task mania, but instead mentally doing so. Just say no to the task master inside.

      Happy Birthday Johann. I’ll try to relax a bit today in your honor. But there’s work to do before that. You know: no pause in progress and development, and all that.

    • To Live an Interesting Life

      Walking a young puppy informs. She grows timid as she gets further and further from what is familiar to her. Furtive glances back and a look up at at me coaxing her along are the routine for those first steps. But then something interesting happens: she becomes more excited about what is unfolding in front of her and pulls at the leash instead of being pulled. It’s all I can do to keep pace.

      To live an interesting life means to skate that line between comfort and discomfort, but also to stretch that line and venture beyond. As we stretch ourselves we don’t just grow, we become: interested, engaged, more substantial in our perspective and thus interesting to others. To be interesting requires we grow as people, experiencing all that life throws at us and finding a way through it all.

      To live an interesting life, we ought to find and embrace the joyful moments along the way, savoring the best life offers while honoring our commitment to ourselves to take on challenges as they’re presented to us, to embrace the suck, as it were, when necessary, and to see things through until the end. There’s a natural balance we find in an interesting life, as we find our stride. What is stride but finding rhythm or cadence? It’s a feeling of confidence that develops through both joy and adversity.

      I wonder sometimes, is a blog a narcissistic endeavor or documenting our way through life? It’s whatever we put into it, isn’t it? If someone at a cocktail party is going on and on about themselves, how soon before you call an audible and bow out of the conversation? On the other hand, when that person is interested and engaged in conversation with you, aren’t you more likely to find them interested as a result? I feel this applies equally well to writing as it does to conversations. Perhaps you agree?

      We cannot live an interesting life without first being interested in life. When we are, we find the courage to step beyond our comfort zone and try new things. Pretty soon it’s us pulling others along to new adventures. We don’t get to choose what happens to us in life, but we can choose how we react. Be interested. The journey unfolds from there.

    • The Shift From Intelligence to Wisdom

      “When you are young, you have raw smarts; when you are old, you have wisdom. When you are young, you can generate lots of facts; when you are old, you know what they mean and how to use them…. if you can repurpose your professional life to rely more on crystallized intelligence—your peak will come later but your decline will happen much, much later, if ever.” — Arthur C. Brooks, From Strength to Strength

      Raymond Cattell theorized that we have two kinds of intelligence: fluid intelligence, which includes problem solving, reasoning and logic, and crystallized intelligence, which is the wisdom to draw upon our accumulated knowledge and derive what to make if it all. If fluid intelligence is exhibited by start-up hustle and eager undergraduate students devouring information, crystallized intelligence is more the consultant swooping in to help a business define their why, or a professor guiding those undergrads towards enlightenment.

      In my career, I’ve been the eager hustler trying to do as much as I could in the world, and I’ve become the person trying to make sense of it all. It’s probably no coincidence that I began this blog when I reached some measure of crystallized intelligence. Surely it would be nothing but fish and chips reviews (ie: discovery) were I still in that fluid intelligence stage. Ten years ago I was still taking exams to add certification credentials to my resume. I wouldn’t dream of playing that game today. Does that make me an old dog unwilling to learn new tricks, or someone who realizes my best game isn’t about that particular trick?

      The thing is, we can still be eager students of life at any age. We can seek wisdom when we’re young and solve problems when we grow old, but it helps greatly to optimize our lives around our strengths in the phase of life we find ourselves in. To be useful and productive means something different at 25, 50 and 75. we ought to dance with our strengths and mitigate the impact of the absence of those strengths we haven’t arrived at yet, or have faded as we change.

      Brooks’ premise is that achievers often fight the natural decline in fluid intelligence instead of embracing the accumulated wisdom and potential of crystallized intelligence. This leads to frustration at best and bitterness at seeing the world pass us by at worst. The answer seems to be finding a groove that matches the music playing on our particular playlist, and dance with that. The tune changes as we change, but it’s music just the same.

    • Free to Find

      ‘When someone is searching, then it can easily happen that the only thing his eyes see is that for which he is searching. He is then unable to find anything or let any thought enter his mind because he always thinks of nothing but the object of his search. He is obsessed by a goal; searching means having a goal. But finding means: being free, open, and having no goal.” — Hermann Hesse, Siddhartha

      It occurred to me at one point in my life that I’d read a lot of books, heard many a commencement speech, and listened to countless podcast interviews and Ted talks. These were all forms of seeking, but how much do we incorporate the information we digest into our routines? What have we really found? Is the search merely a distraction from doing the real work of building a life?

      We reach a point, if we’re lucky, when we stop searching at all, and simply become open to what comes into our lives. That doesn’t mean being rudderless, but accepting of the twists and turns that life throws along the path. The path remains, but as the purpose, not as a way to it.

      When you stop searching so much and immerse into the found, life becomes clearer. That doesn’t mean it becomes easier, for those twists and turns demand navigation, but you spend less time looking around for answers. The focus becomes this step on the path, and what’s been in front of you all along.

    • New Places

      “Like silence after noise, or cool, clear water on a hot, stuffy day, Emptiness cleans out the messy mind and charges up the batteries of spiritual energy. Many people are afraid of Emptiness, however, because it reminds them of Loneliness.” ― Benjamin Hoff, The Tao of Pooh

      I picked up a beautiful stone on a rocky beach the other day, as I often do in such places, to add it to a pot of stones I’ve got from around the world. I realized that most of the stones I’ve accumulated while doing this mean nothing more to me than curious novelties, yet I keep acquiring stones from places I’ve been just the same. It’s not logical, but it is my way of saving a piece of each beautiful place I’ve been. Better than a shot glass or a t-shirt, I suppose.

      Lately I’ve been working to reconcile the fact that I’ve been adding more than subtracting. This is a natural activity for many people in the western world: more stuff, more experiences, more accomplishments, more, more, more… We pick up stuff as casually as we load food on at the buffet table. And it’s not just stuff, it’s responsibilities and commitments, work load, home improvement projects, and on and on. We pile on all of these things as we accumulate experience and live our lives.

      When we fill our lives we leave little room for ourselves to emerge. We’re in there somewhere, under the pile of stuff we’ve heaped on our shoulders. A boat needs an anchor to hold it to solid ground, but if you add enough anchors the boat will sink. Do you ever get that sinking feeling? Let something go from your life and feel released.

      Recently I added a puppy to my life. This can be seen as another added responsibility and maybe one anchor too many. Then again, maybe it was the anchor I needed. What’s clear in getting acquainted with her is that other anchors may need to be tossed aside that this ship may stay afloat. And this is how we grow in new directions in different seasons of our lives. We encounter new and different things that carry us to new places.