Alexandersmap

    Category: Learning

    • This New Glimpse

      Starting here, what do you want to remember?
      How sunlight creeps along a shining floor?
      What scent of old wood hovers, what softened
      sound from outside fills the air?

      Will you ever bring a better gift for the world
      than the breathing respect that you carry
      wherever you go right now? Are you waiting
      for time to show you some better thoughts?

      When you turn around, starting here, lift this
      new glimpse that you found; carry into evening
      all that you want from this day. This interval you spent
      reading or hearing this, keep it for life –

      What can anyone give you greater than now,
      starting here, right in this room, when you turn around?
      — William Stafford, You, Reading This, Be Ready

      Isn’t the magic in a poem is in its discovery? It’s the chance encounter with a voice from beyond our moment, and the quiet conversation that ensues. Like life itself, we find our stride in this world one encounter, and one lesson, at a time.

      Maybe heightened awareness of living is the thing. Poetry offers a new recipe for living. It’s meeting each day as they roll past, relentlessly, until we beach this life and move on to infinity. It’s living each day with curiosity and a yearning to understand. It’s not accepting the beliefs we’ve layered together like a lasagna of closed-mindedness and moving beyond that recipe to find a new way of savoring this life.

      Maybe the questions are the thing. Poetry brings forward questions we never thought of before. How do we make the most of our days, and of our encounters? Through work and contribution? Through raising children to be better humans than we are? Are we here to serve as ambassadors to the world? Or simply to find a bit of dark sky to borrow for an evening to reacquaint ourselves with distant cousins? For aren’t we derived from stardust too?

      Maybe finally seeing is the thing. Poetry brings us to places previously unseen. This glimpse of new ways of living is a gift, should we accept it. In opening our eyes and living a fuller life than we previously did we transcend who we once were in favor of the potential for a larger life. For what can anyone give us that is greater than now?

    • In Favor of Wonder

      “Sadly it is not only the force of gravity we get used to as we grow up. The world itself becomes a habit in no time at all. It seems as if in the process of growing up we lose the ability to wonder about the world. And in doing so, we lose something central—something philosophers try to restore. For somewhere inside ourselves, something tells us that life is a huge mystery. This is something we once experienced, long before we learned to think the thought.” — Jostein Gaarder, Sophie’s World: A Novel About the History of Philosophy

      Gaarder’s premise is sound: We come into the world full of wonder, but as we grow up being alive becomes a habit. We reach a point where we think we’ve seen it all before and grow comfortable with the general act of our daily existence. Each day remains a miracle, but the vast majority of people take it for granted. What a pity.

      I’ve been working to break this habit in myself for years through deep immersion in philosophy, poetry, history, travel and the deliberate process of savoring the moment. Sometimes I get it right, sometimes I slip into the routine of the day-to-day. But every day I try to begin with reflection on this miracle of being alive. The blog forces me to stay in this lane, if only for a short while, before work and responsibilities draw my attention elsewhere. But I always strive to return to wonder.

      What if instead of returning to wonder we found a way to stay on the dance floor with it? Not in some stupor or drug-induced high, but through deliberate focus on each moment. Turning the habit of living day-to-day on its head and instead embracing heightened awareness and the quiet delight available to us in each encounter along the way. Isn’t that taking the act of living to a higher level?

      We all want more wonder and delight in our lives, for it’s the frosting on our cake—our exclamation point on our moments. The thing is, to break the old habit of merely living, we’ve got to favor wonder and make it a regular part of us. Like any habit, it becomes a part of our identity through consistency. That’s putting the wonder in a full life.

    • Crispy Days

      “Life starts all over again when it gets crisp in the fall.” — F. Scott Fitzgerald

      Who says beginnings should be saved for New Year’s or spring? Every day offers the same opportunity for transformation. Aside from seasonal planting and certain outdoor sports, a crisp autumn day seems just as appropriate a time to change things up as the first day of spring.

      Crispy days conjure memories of the first day of school, or heading off to college or beginning a new season of your favorite fall sport. The connection to beginnings isn’t all that much of a reach after all.

      So as the air gets good and crispy, and as the earth tilts just so in the Northern Hemisphere, what are we to do with it?

    • Something to Savor

      “How terribly sad it was that people are made in such a way that they get used to something as extraordinary as living.” ― Jostein Gaarder, The Solitaire Mystery

      When we think back on our days, how many are frosted with magic and delight? The very definition of ordinary points to the relative sameness in each day. Sprinkling a bit of magic on each moment seems frivolous, unorthodox, and perhaps a little… irresponsible. Shouldn’t magic be saved for weddings, holidays and other such highlight reel moments? We can’t very well sprinkle magic into everything, could we? For wouldn’t that make the magical mundane?

      Don’t listen to the nihilists and the fearful, for they have no taste for spice. We must look up at our remaining time and decide to meet it. We can enhance the flavor profile of our life one dash at a time. And make our lives something to savor.

      Raising our standard doesn’t inherently level the field of play. On the contrary—we just play at a higher level. Our lives won’t run out of magic until we stop making it. So go on, stir a bit more audacity and adventure into your day. Punctuate each moment with purpose. You may just develop a taste for it.

    • What Escapes Us

      “Our life is also what we have not dared to do … what escaped us.” — Javier Marias

      Javier Marias passed away on September 11th, triggering a series of tributes to a productive literary life. This quote stood out for me, for all the reasons you might expect from this particular blogger. If there’s a theme woven throughout, it’s Stoic: Memento Mori, Amor Fati, Carpe diem.

      Life is a series of leaps forward from one identity to the next as we cross the chasm of our brief time, yet some bits of our stardust are never fully changed, other paths remain untaken. And we think sometimes about where it might have carried us. What might have been.

      Does that read as regret? It’s not meant to be so. Life is full of choices good and poor. We celebrate where we’ve arrived at either way. Regret is a useless emotion best reserved for the instant you realize you’ve driven off the cliff or studied the wrong material for the exam. Otherwise it’s distraction from the path forward. We all ought to accept the guidance of previous decisions without living in the past.

      We know what we said yes to, because it brought us here. We must also accept what we say no to in our lives. We ought to celebrate the omissions for where they brought us. For these things are as much a part of who we become as the things we do choose. Every no is a yes to something else. Each decision carries us, transforms us, and we dance with the music we’re left with. Mostly it’s a real toe tapper.

      Do remember though, as we dance with where we’ve arrived at, that daring is always on the table.

    • Mastering the Omission

      “Storytelling reveals meaning without committing the error of defining it.” — Hannah Arendt

      There’s an art to telling stories. You see it masterfully displayed in the work of certain authors and public speakers. Everyone knows a great story when they hear it, but many don’t understand the craft of actually creating something that becomes compelling. As a would-be writer and occasional public speaker, I chip away at storytelling with the natural hope of drawing in the reader or audience, instead of lulling them to sleep.

      Like any craft, storytelling requires apprenticeship and time. The artist grows into everything of consequence that they’ll ever create. We hone our skills, witness firsthand the impact of our work on others, and go back to the drawing board to try anew. Everything we do is a hit or a miss, and good timing is, if not everything, essential.

      I say this as a lifetime apprentice to the craft of writing. A blog is like balsa wood for the aspiring storyteller, allowing the writer to carve out a sympathetic audience. But The Thinker wasn’t carved out of balsa wood. One must eventually step out of one’s comfort zone and take more risks. A journeyman reaches mastery when they create a masterpiece. We all reach a moment when we believe that the journeyman gig isn’t nearly enough.

      Any masterpiece includes certain elements that demonstrate the fine skill of the craftsperson. In storytelling we often think about what to include, but often forget that true mastery includes omission. To draw an audience in, we must leave the space for them to fill.

      As you’re doing right now.

    • Seeking vs. Seeing

      “Believe those who are seeking the truth. Doubt those who find it.” — André Gide

      There are a lot of earnest, hardworking people in the world, seeking a better future for themselves and others. And there are a smaller, though seemingly just as many, buzzing cluster of charlatans and false prophets telling all who will hear that they’ve seen the way and all should follow them. Why does it seem that these two groups are equal in numbers? Partly because the earnest and hardworking seekers are too busy getting things done to shout “Look at me!” every waking moment of the day. And partly because seekers are inclined to hear out those who say they’ve seen.

      This week I found myself as the senior sage teaching others the way. It’s easy in that position to posture and play the part of all-knowing master. That, of course, would be disingenuous and misleading. We all learn something new every day, at least we do if we’re earnest in our journey to becoming. When you find yourself with apprentices following you, the true leader shows what must be done on the journey to mastery, while also demonstrating the humble quest for improvement lies in each moment. The fact is, none of us ever really master our craft. It’s okay to admit that, for the path to mastery begins with breaking down our own ego.

      The trick to growth is learning to navigate our way through those charlatans and false prophets and find the willing mentor who brings us closer to the truth. And our collective future begins when, after we’ve climbed a few steps closer ourselves, we turn and show others the way. We might just discover that that was our truth all along.

    • Living Beyond

      “Maybe everyone can live beyond what they’re capable of.” – Markus Zusak

      I spoke with a gentleman at a cash register while I was purchasing a new shirt. I was the only customer in the store, he was eager to talk to someone and I had the time to give. We spoke of the future, chasing dreams and taking risks. I spoke as a wise old sage, being neither old nor a sage, but being successful enough in his eyes as he looked at me and the shirt I was buying that he decided I must be both. Perhaps success is in the eye of the beholder, but it rarely stares back at us from the mirror. There’s always more to do.

      My advice to this man full of dreams was to chase them. To risk slightly beyond his comfort zone and then a little bit further, for regret is more painful than losing money or a safe job in pursuit of something meaningful. Something beyond the life we imagine for ourselves. Something that brings a tear to your eye when you even dare to imagine it.

      The thing is, it’s always easier to give advice, much more difficult to take it yourself. But shouldn’t we? Living beyond what we’re capable of is only possible if we step beyond the place we believe to be a bit too far. But, by all means, step there and maybe another step more. For what’s the worst that can happen? Even the most expensive of lessons are lessons nonetheless.

      What is ever more painful than the self-talk of someone who didn’t try to leap when the opportunity presented itself? So leap! We might just surprise ourselves at how far we go.

    • Doing, With Purpose

      “There is nothing quite so useless, as doing with great efficiency, something that should not be done at all.” — Peter Drucker

      “You seem to spend a lot of time worrying if you will survive, and you will probably survive…. It’s the wrong question! The question is how to be useful.” — Peter Drucker to a young Jim Collins (via Nextbigideaclub.com)

      In September, Massachusetts’ Buzzards Bay is chock full of bait fish—millions of tiny fish trying to make a go of it in this world, as countless birds and bigger fish attempt to turn that bait fish’s purpose in life to be their breakfast. It’s a fish-eat-fish world on display, and offers lessons for those who witness it. Mostly, it’s a reminder to avoid being a bait fish. For us land-based creatures, the best way to avoid that is to live with purpose.

      We all dabble in those questions of purpose, the “Why are we here? questions. But isn’t that too big a place to start? Purpose is an impossibly big scope to answer with such a broad question. We ought to break it down into bite-sized questions that determine our unique value: “What do I do well? “How can I translate that into serving those who need this value the most?” and “What do I need to learn to become even more valuable for those I wish to serve?” are good starting places for building purpose into our lives.

      It’s fair to ask ourselves why we’re doing something. It’s appropriate to wonder where our work is leading us. And we ought to do something with the answers when we arrive at them, for our opportunity to do useful things resides in a very brief window of time. Feeling the urgency of the moment and doing something with it begins with knowing what both that something and that it really are for us.

      When we leave our lives to chance, we sometimes stumble upon a meaningful life. But more often than not, we end up getting chewed up in the feeding frenzy of life. Purpose brings us higher up the food chain, where we might rise above mere existence to a more valuable destination.

      Which leads back to that question of questions, posed so well by Mary Oliver in her poem The Summer Day:

      Tell me, what is it you plan to do
      with your one wild and precious life?
      —Mary Oliver

    • Creating, Out of Yourself

      “Do not do what someone else could do as well as you. Do not say, do not write what someone else could say, could write as well as you. Care for nothing in yourself but what you feel exists nowhere else. And, out of yourself create, impatiently or patiently, the most irreplaceable of beings.” — André Gide

      The writing comes slowly. The writing comes effortlessly. The work has bursts of creativity mixed with repetition and familiarity. The things I’m most proud of often fall flat, the hits keep getting views and likes. So it shall be.

      We must do the work, and see where it takes us. The work took me to André Gide recently, and I’m delighted with the discovery. Another stepping-stone on the journey across the mad stream of noise and nonsense that wants to sweep us all away before we’ve done the work. When you find such solid ground in the midst of chaos you celebrate the landing. Gide reminds us not to settle, but to make something of ourselves in our time.

      The work deserves our best, because it represents our best in our moment. Should it fall flat in its time or become a surprise hit matters little, save a bit of ego stroke. Work that matters doesn’t fly on the wings of a clever hashtag or marketing campaign. That may matter to a publisher or salesperson or PR firm. What matters in the creative process is how it resonates within us. And where it takes us.

      If we’re lucky, maybe it carries us to places we haven’t been before. To something unexpected and delightful in ourselves. Should be keep at it just a little bit longer.