Category: Learning

  • Are We Growing?

    “Are we really growing towards a realization? Or are we, perhaps, just going in circles—we who think that at some point we shall escape the circle of existence?” — Hermann Hesse, Siddhartha

    Good habits and bad alike offer ample opportunity to become trapped in a cycle of routine. Writing every morning is likely a good habit for me, running several times a week is great for my bride, and hiking every weekend has transformed some friends who are rarely seen in social settings anymore. There’s no arguing that positive habits have the potential to offer growth and vibrancy, but it’s fair to question now and then whether we’re simply going around in circles.

    What are we chasing? What are we moving towards? Are we collecting experiences or are we accumulating wisdom and leaning in to growth? We ought to look around and ask ourselves hard questions now and then, questions that force us to see who we are becoming. It is only through seeing that we find our direction.

    None of us is getting out of this alive. What we do with this knowledge is essential to who we become in our brief dance. Do we embrace a life of nihilism and distraction or do we double down on finding a purpose that resonates for our time?

    Growth offers the opportunity to make a bigger splash, doesn’t it? We all sink in the end, but each of us offers a ripple that carries across the plane of existence even after we’ve disappeared from sight. Ripples are circles too, but radiating beyond us, that we might touch others, even those who appear out of reach. This is true in our time, and surely beyond it.

  • Borrowed Awareness

    “One day Rumi was teaching by a fountain in a small square in Konya. Books were open on the fountain’s ledge. Shams walked quickly through the students and pushed the books into the water.
    “Who are you and what are you doing?” Rumi asked.
    “You must now live what you have been reading about.”
    Rumi turned to the books in the fountain, one of them his father’s precious spiritual diary, the Maarif.
    Shams said, “We can retrieve them. They will be as dry as they ever were.” He lifted out the Maarif to show him. Dry.
    “Leave them,” said Rumi.
    With that relinquishment of books and borrowed awareness, Rumi’s real life began, and his real poetry too.” — Coleman Barks, From the introduction of Rumi: The Big Red Book

    There’s a creeping awareness that comes over you when you read a lot of books. A realization that you’re simply borrowing knowledge but not living it. It’s the equivalent of being all talk and no action. Being well-read is only a starting point, the rest is up to us.

    Humanity is filled with people who are formally educated but not fully realized. We each have an opportunity to meet our potential, but most of us hide from it in books. Our development doesn’t stop when we finish the book—really, we’ve only just begun. The universe shows us the way and nothing more. This is where we pick up and carry ourselves forward into who we will become.

    There’s nothing wrong with reading books, but we must get out of the covers. We’re far better for having borrowed the knowledge, we just can’t stop with that, satisfied and on to the next. We must stand up on those books, and from that higher plane, reach for something that might have been out of our grasp otherwise.

  • Let’s Begin

    It’s our time to make a move
    It’s our time to make amends
    It’s our time to break the rules
    Let’s begin

    — X Ambassadors, Renegades

    If you want to feel hope for the future, go to a ceremony honoring High School graduates awarded their scholarships. I was awestruck hearing their accomplishments over the last four years, much of which was endured during and in the aftermath of a pandemic when mental health and questions about the future of leadership in this world were very much on display elsewhere. The future, at least in that room, looked very bright indeed.

    Our stories are constantly evolving. Sitting in that room listening to the brief biographies of those kids, with no stake in the game myself, was one of the most enlightening nights I’ve had in a long time. Surely it made me question my own productivity over the same duration. How do we see greatness and not want to have some of it for ourselves? The thing is, greatness is earned, not taken. We may reach higher still.

    Carpe diem: Seize the day. These words are forever associated with a fictional high school class in another time and place. Isn’t it something when you witness it in real life? It’s all around us, hidden in the quiet resolve of people getting things done. Given the same amount of time in a day, we each choose what to do with the minutes.

    It’s easy to see a group of high achievers and feel optimistic. It’s also easy to question what we’ve been doing with our own time, and perhaps feel a bit of an underachiever by comparison. It’s essential to remember in these moments that comparison is the thief of joy. Let us instead be inspired by those reaching for greatness and help them find the way. Greatness isn’t a destination, it’s a never-ending pursuit of mastery in one’s chosen path. If that pursuit is never-ending, it also means it’s always beginning. As in, here we go again. Shouldn’t that realization excite us?

  • Stories, and How We Interpret Them

    “Be careful how you interpret the world; it is like that.” — Erich Heller

    “We are defined by the stories we tell ourselves.” — Tony Robbins

    Our beliefs do have a way of defining us, don’t they? Tell a story enough times and it begins to feel like our truth. Stories about who we are, the type of lifestyle we live, the work we do and the people we spend our time with. They usually have similar stories to ours, don’t they?

    Listen to other storytellers. This can be dangerous and disruptive. Wars have begun over stories that don’t jibe with another. Entire cultures have been crushed by stories. There are whispered cries in history for the injustice and pain of a bad story, implemented. An entire lifetime can be wasted when hooked to the wrong story.

    There’s friction in changing stories. How do you shake off the grip of long-held beliefs? The first step is to get out of the echo chamber of reinforcement. Digest new information, find new places, reach beyond what is comfortable.

    Given the stakes, it’s fair to question what we believe to be true in the world. It’s fair to choose to change our story. This is where boldness comes into our story. To be bold is to step away from our previous self and begin the long climb to a better view.

    The trap is to try to pull other people along who haven’t changed their own story just yet. Rarely does another soul want to hear that their story is wrong. Telling people anything is a sure road to resentment and conflict. Let them see instead. When we see we begin to change ourselves, and step towards a new story previously unimagined.

    As with any great story, the first draft is nothing to celebrate. We don’t arrive in this world perfect in every way, no matter what our mother tells us. But we must keep editing. With time and patience and more than a little effort, eventually we’ll arrive at our masterpiece. At least that’s the story I tell myself.

  • The Beauty of Our Discoveries

    “I hadn’t done drugs since sniffing Lady Esquire shoe polish when I was fifteen. I didn’t need to. I felt the pinch of wonder. I felt everything sharply, the people we met, the sensation of being in a body, of eating and drinking. I knew there was darkness in the world, but I was sure it would not overpower us; rather, we would let ourselves be overpowered by the beauty of our discoveries as we traveled through this world.” — Bono, Surrender

    A lovely expression, this pinch of wonder, and something I wish we all shared. Too many seek distraction and escape over wonder, but let that not be us. When we lean into the life of an explorer, every encounter becomes an opportunity for illumination. Understanding of the world and our place in it can be a slow dawn for those of us not living the rock star lifestyle, but life doesn’t have to come at us in bold strokes for us to find the color. We simply have to be open to it.

    A friend texted over the weekend, thrilled with the travel they’ve witnessed through my photographs, and wanting more. I confess to wanting more myself, even as I look around at the work to be done right at home. We never really finish building a nest, we just fly further and further from it in our quest to see what all the fuss is about. Not being a wealthy rock star, time and money remain considerations for strategic trips abroad. We simply can’t do everything, and really, why would we want to? Life isn’t about chasing the illusive, it’s about building something tangible: understanding, purpose, momentum… beautiful.

    What washes over us when we encounter such things as beauty and magic? Do these encounters feed the fire for more exploration, or do they finally offer satisfaction? Are we ever really satiated? As if enough beauty and magic could exist in a world such as this? I believe we find something in ourselves that was aching to reach the surface in such moments, something beyond our present selves, something drawn from us as we’re pulled towards that which we seek. Magnetic momentum, if you will, pulling us from our shell into the world.

    Bono uses his fame to build a better world, framed with understanding and empathy. It’s a noble pursuit enabled by the thrill people feel to be around someone larger than life. We might do the same, perhaps not to the same scale, but with the same zeal. We might each be ambassadors, not judges. We might be builders creating something better with each encounter. In a way, that’s a rock star way of looking at life: amplified and actively strumming, making our soundtrack. The beauty of our discoveries arranged into a life well-lived.

  • Reading and Writing and All the Other Things

    “I write because I want more than one life; I insist on a wider selection. It’s greed, plain and simple. When my characters join the circus, I’m joining the circus. Although I’m happily married, I spent a great deal of time mentally living with incompatible husbands.” — Anne Tyler

    “I read so I can live more than one life in more than one place.” — Anne Tyler

    We read fiction to escape: to be someone else in another place, if only for a little while. We write fiction to explore: to create something bolder within ourselves that we might not otherwise explore, and drop these characters into the places we might not dare to go in a normal lifetime. To take a walk on the wild side without too much damage. Each of us seeks something more in this world in some way. Fiction offers safe passage to extraordinary places.

    This blog doesn’t dabble in fiction, although this writer has. There’s a distinct separation there, between fiction and non-fiction, and between creative output and daily observation. My name isn’t even Alexander, which may lend to the confusion. Certainly it doesn’t offer optimization of the brand. But so it goes. The motive isn’t to develop a brand, but a deeper understanding of the world and my place in it.

    Sometimes we want to explore other lives, represented in fictional characters who come to life in the pages of a book. Sometimes we want to explore the meaning in our own life, and optimize our potential in this brief go-around. If I’m sure of anything in this daily ritual, it’s that I’m a better writer and a better human for having consistently done it. Writers develop characters, and we also develop our own character. Those richer and bolder lives aren’t just on paper, after all, they’re within us too.

    This business of reading and writing is a lovely part of who we are, but let’s face it: Most of our life is made up of all the other things. When done well, we develop a deeper perspective and sense of place through our active participation in words, but also through our engagement with the world. We must step outside our comfort zone in small ways that lead to bigger and bolder things. Just as a snowball grows as we nudge it along, so we grow as we accumulate skill and confidence through repetitive action. As with the snowball, at some point it grows beyond our capacity to push it, and it is then that we must seek the help of others. We must develop the awareness and courage to ask for help when we find our pushing isn’t quite enough.

    When you stop to think of it, we’re each the authors of our own lives. Those characters we develop are often us. Just as they stretch and grow, so too do we. All the other things that make up a life are derived from our imagination and the courage to step out into the unknown. It shouldn’t just be fiction.

  • On Ritual and Routine

    “Be a good steward of your gifts. Protect your time. Feed your inner life. Avoid too much noise. Read good books, have good sentences in your ears. Be by yourself as often as you can. Walk. Take the phone off the hook. Work regular hours.” — Jane Kenyon

    Last year my bride and I took a morning walk on a quiet beach in the off-season. We saw an older gentleman swimming with his dogs in the brisk Atlantic Ocean and met him as we were walking back towards our car. Well, as is usually the case, his dogs met us first, and he joined them in introductions soon after. He looked like Obi-Wan Kenobi in a thick, hooded robe. He mentioned that he took this Atlantic Ocean plunge with his dogs every day of the year, no matter the weather. The robe and the walk back home were his rewards for completing this ritual, and were thus an integral part of it. His fitness level and radiance betrayed a lifestyle worthy of consideration.

    Lately I’ve thought more of lifestyle design—of deliberately choosing how to spend my remaining time on this earth in daily ritual and routine. We might agree that we’re already living our lives based solely on the bookends of ritual and routine. The question is, are we optimizing our life or should we build better bookends? Is writing first thing in the morning the best use of this time? Or is a long walk better? Or a brisk plunge into cold water? The answer is whatever sets the table for an exceptional day—what comes first should hardly matter, just that we do the things that, stacked together, make up a productive and meaningful day, and by extension, our life.

    We tend to track things like workouts, but don’t always track other things that make up our days. Tracking habits makes sense when you’re trying to establish or reinforce them. I began flossing every day when I stared at an empty box one day, knowing I’d broken the streak. A friend quit smoking simply so he didn’t have to leave a day on his calendar without a big X through it. We forget sometimes in our realization that we can’t control everything that we can control some things. And these small things, added up over time, become big things indeed.

    The way to be a good steward of our gifts is to protect our time in ritual and routine. Kenyon outlines hers in the magical quote above. We might add a few others that punctuate our own days. The trick in building these bookends is to fill the space in between with more activity worthy of our precious time. We know that that space will be filled either way—shouldn’t we make it fulfilling?

    Plunge into things that optimize your days
  • A Series of Outcomes

    “Perseverance is not a long race; it is many short races one after another.” — Walter Elliot

    “The future we have bet on unfolds as a series of outcomes.” — Annie Duke, Thinking in Bets

    The journey of becoming what’s next never stops, does it? We just move from one version of ourselves to the next, and then the next still, until we reach the end of our days. The trick is to build off each, creating something bigger than our current selves in the process. Life is reinvention and renewal, but it is also fragile and fraught with danger. We must be bold in our choices and tough in our resolve.

    “The thing about life is that you must survive. Life is going to be difficult, and dreadful things will happen. What you do is move along, get on with it, and be tough. Not in the sense of being mean to others, but being tough with yourself and making a deadly effort not to be defeated.”
    ― Katharine Hepburn

    Being hyper-aware of the race we’re currently in is essential to savoring a life well-lived. So too is being hyper-aware of the direction we’re going in, that we might stay on course for who we aspire to be in the next version of ourselves, and the one after that. We must play the long game even as we deal with the cards we’ve been dealt in this hand.

    There is no other way to progress through this life than one step at a time. Sometimes we leap, sometimes we take smaller steps than we’d like. Sometimes we go sideways around an obstacle. But we must feel the urgency of the moment and act. Life is urgent because life is so brief. We simply have no time to lose if we are to reach the places we’ve set our course for. And yet we must take the long view, even as we deal in today. Life is now, with an eye on whatever we can make of then. We must get on with it.

  • To Be a Good Ancestor

    It’s understood that our ancestors lived in a time of darkness and brutality mixed with enlightenment and progress. History is a process of confronting and accepting the evidence we stumble across as we explore the path of humanity. We aren’t a perfect species, but we can make incremental progress towards a better world. We cannot judge ourselves today based on the actions of our ancestors, but we can learn and apply that knowledge towards a better future. This of course applies to the individual as much as the collective species. In either case, progress is active work.

    Our ancestors were the best and worst of us. We are the sum of that history: the survivors, antagonists and witnesses rolled into an underlying identity we either celebrate or work to change. We are the latest revision of our species, and the trick, as Kevin Kelly puts it, is to be good ancestors for futures generations. Just as a scale and the mirror inform us of our progress towards fitness, our work and what we invest our time and energy into determine tangible progress for our collective future.

    History suggests steady progress, even as the news suggests a spiral downward. The only thing certain is that we have our verse to be written. What we do with the opportunity is up to us.

  • The Joy of Throwing Axes

    When you think about the combined activities of drinking alcoholic beverages and throwing axes around in a room, one might fairly ask the question, “what’s the worst that could happen?” and come up with some cringe-worthy images. Yet humans have been throwing sharp objects while drinking for as long as there have been humans and sharp objects to throw. We’ve just moved the throwing of said objects into a controlled environment.

    The act of throwing an axe is surprisingly easy and intuitive. If you closed your eyes for a moment and imagined throwing an axe you’d likely have a proper go of it on your first attempt. And so it is in when you’ve lubed your brain with a beverage or two. Rest assured there’s always an adult hovering around to make sure the basics are covered. Basics like proper respect for a deadly object.

    Axe throwing is done in a cage. The host accepts your money, has you sign away any liability and sprays the cork wall with water to moisten it, so that the axes sink in more often than bounce off the target (I’m guessing it also extends the life of the cork). After a few minutes of basic instruction, you go about throwing axes.

    The axes themselves are light stainless steel in a couple of sizes, so you don’t have to be Conan to throw the axe. The target itself is projected onto the cork, giving you a clear idea of what you’re throwing at. As with darts, you can receive progressively more points the closer to the center you get, but as with Skee Ball there are a couple of enticing small targets where you can score higher if you hit them or much lower if you miss. The rules of the arcade and life apply: It’s all about risk and reward. If you’ve played either darts or Skee Ball you’ll know where to throw. And that’s a good thing, because after all, people are drinking.

    The act of throwing an axe and sticking it into the wall is profoundly satisfying and exhilerating. Our ancestors would be proud of us, sort of, for keeping the family trade alive. Or maybe they’d look around and wonder why they bothered to keep the gene pool going with all that fighting and impaling back in the day. Still, I bet they’d be a ringer in a game of axe throwing.

    This may seem a trivial pursuit, and perhaps a trivial blog post too. Then again, life is about plucking joyful moments out of thin air. With all the stress and darkness in the world, it’s fun to do something completely primordial and delightfully analog. Go throw an axe—I dare you not to smile from ear-to-ear.