Category: Learning

  • We Become the Sum

    “What strikes me is the fact that in our society, art has become something which is related only to objects and not to individuals, or to life. That art is something which is specialized or which is done by experts who are artists. But couldn’t everyone’s life become a work of art? Why should the lamp or the house be an art object, but not our life?” — Michel Foucault

    Walking the pup yesterday during a snowstorm, I considered turning back to slip on micro spikes. Fluffy snow over ice is never a good recipe for reliable footing. Instead I shortened my stride and the leash so the dog wouldn’t pull me down in her snowy exuberance. Some life lessons are learned from a sore backside.

    We know that we are works in progress, but sometimes get frustrated with the pace of that progress. It’s okay to paint over our mistakes now and then. It’s better to make them anyway, if only to learn which paths are not ours to take, if only to not have possibilities haunting us for not having tried them at all. As Nietzsche reminded us, that which doesn’t kill us makes us stronger. In this way, we may consider each day a lesson in how to live.

    The pup and I have a loop that covers the same ground twice to get us to the desired distance. Double the distance and we’re doubling the frequency of times covering the same ground. Which is noticeable when it’s snowing out and we’re leaving foot and paw prints behind us. In this way, each loop revealed the previous ground we’d covered, but our steps never exactly repeated themselves. Our strides changed with the conditions, we were pulled towards some curiosity just a nose below the snow, a car passed by that changed our path or some such thing. As the snow accumulated, the oldest footprints faded more and more into the layers building up on top of them. Each loop was the same, yet completely different. So too are our days.

    Our canvas transforms with every stroke of the brush. Each offers lessons on where to go next. Each fades further into the background with the addition of yet another. But here lies depth and progress. The richness of life is found not just in the changes we make to our days, but in the rituals that anchor them. It all builds upon itself to form the work of art that is our life. In this way, we become the sum.

  • Emerging Possibilities

    How long did all those possibilities sleep
    during the years
    before this emerging
    — Michael Ondaatje, The Then

    There are hints of our future together all around us. We may see some version of ourselves emerge from the habits that we develop, or those that hold on to us (try as we might to break from them). We are what we repeatedly do, and so it is that we become what we surround ourselves with. There will always be a gap between who we are and what we want to be. Is that gap closing or becoming a chasm?

    We see in the world possibilities emerging that we never imagined. We may share mutual disgust and dismay. But I’m here to tell you that there are other possibilities hiding right in plain sight, possibilities that we can control, should we become aware of them. Life is what we make of it—it has always been this way and always will be. Fight the good fight, but for the love of God start within.

    What we tend to see is that which demands our attention, be it a heart attack or an autocrat or the waiter asking us what we want to drink. Immediacy demands focus. Do we remember the Eisenhower Matrix? Right next to that “urgent and important” quadrant lies the “not urgent but important” quadrant where the real work of becoming resides. Our future lies in seeing what might be, not forever reacting to what is thrown on our shoulders to somehow carry.

    Everything begins with awareness. When we are self-absorbed we don’t see the soulmate standing right in front of us. When we are distracted by the despair machine, we don’t see the pendulum swinging towards decency. When we are wrapped in the comfort of easy, we don’t see the path to personal excellence available when we become inclined towards harder. Possibilities are all around us, simply waiting for opportunities to emerge. Feed them the attention they need.

  • Digging Our Ground

    The trouble, doll, is not moving mountains
    But digging the ground that you’re on
    If it’s true that good fortune gives no change
    We got just what it takes
    — Jakob Dylan, Something Good This Way Comes

    Nowadays, doesn’t it seem like everyone is angry or depressed or resentful of others? We know there are legitimate reasons for concern, but there’s also a collective amnesia about how good we really have it. It’s driven by an information diet that tells us how awful we should feel about the state of the world, about those “nasty” people on the other side, about the number staring back at us on the scale or the fact that few of us look like those fit, fashionable and well-traveled people we see on our screens. We know that comparison is the death of joy, but our feeds are relentlessly pushing for comparison anyway.

    There’s nothing wrong with aspiring for more in life, for that is how humanity grows and evolves. That’s how we grow and evolve. But we shouldn’t lose track of that which we are blessed with. How many people throughout history would have given everything for what we have right now? They’d be shocked by our lack of awareness of all that surrounds us.

    Gratitude grounds us. It changes our mindset from feeling like we live in scarcity to knowing we live in abundance. When we’re grateful for where we are, with what we have and who we’re spending our precious time with, it’s hard to feel like we aren’t living a great life. So maybe it’s time to start digging the ground that we’re on, and stop clawing for more of what’s over there. Because over there ain’t all that either.

  • Courage

    “What would life be if we had no courage to attempt anything?”
    — Vincent van Gogh

    When we look back, how does the path that brought us here look? Probably full of switchbacks and a few dead ends, some steep learning curves and false peaks, disappointing descents and surprising vistas that taught us a thing or two. Life is a series of attempts at something new. We may be bold today and again tomorrow, or we can shrink into familiar and less risky ventures. Which is the hero’s journey? Which will give us a better story in the end?

    None of this will mean a thing a hundred years from now. If we’re lucky maybe one small thing will break through and resonate beyond. Whatever project we’re currently working on is unlikely to resonate through the ages like Irises. Does that mean I shouldn’t write this blog post or go to work today? Purpose is discovered through daily action and the courage to change course when the one we’re on isn’t bringing us to where we’d like to go. Van Gogh painted Irises shortly after checking into the Saint Paul-de-Mausole asylum. Do you wonder if he considered his own path clear and straight to the top?

    It’s not just okay to try new things, it’s imperative that we do so. Exploring new paths opens up new opportunities, it colors our world with new perspective, it teaches us who we might be simply by stepping away from the tried and true. Some paths turn out to be magical, but we’ve learned that some will crush our spirit. Knowing this, courage is indeed necessary to rise again to try another. And another. And yet another. In this way, we grow into who we might become in this lifetime.

    Irises, at the J. Paul Getty Museum
  • The Slow and Difficult Trick of Living

    It isn’t very far as highways lie.
    I might be back by nightfall, having seen
    The rough pines, and the stones, and the clear water.
    Friends argue that I might be wiser for it.
    They do not hear that far-off Yankee whisper:
    How dull we grow from hurrying here and there!

    Many have gone, and think me half a fool.
    To miss a day away in the cool country.
    Maybe. But in a book I read and cherish,
    Going to Walden is not so easy a thing
    As a green visit. It is the slow and difficult
    Trick of living, and finding it where you are.
    — Mary Oliver, Going to Walden

    It isn’t very far at all for me to visit Walden. I could be there in about an hour, accounting for rush hour traffic in that general direction. I’ve gone there before, just to be there on some random Tuesday or Wednesday or whatnot. While others worked I would play hooky for an hour or two, just to see the water, just to feel like Thoreau in the interlude between responsibilities. Inevitably I’d return better for having been there. Some might argue that my nose to the grindstone for those couple of hours would have been a better use of the time. Let them think what they want. We’re all different people, aren’t we?

    I can feel that it’s almost time to re-read Walden again, just as I felt today it was time to revisit Mary Oliver. There are other voices beyond the hustle culture that ought to be listened to. There are other ways to spend our precious time. The trick to living is awareness and presence in the invaluable now. To learn and grow and become at a pace that we can maintain for the long haul, even as we know that the time slips away so very quickly.

    You won’t find me at Walden today. I assure you it will be just fine without me. For a Monday I ought to be in more of a rush somewhere, but what is on the other side of that hustle? Just what do we arrive at when we go from here to there anyway? Maybe that’s why I keep writing—to remind myself to be aware of the time going by, or to simply remind myself to cherish the view along the way. To be here, now feels like more than enough. Why would we ever rush away from it?

  • Proof of Identity

    “I think motivation is complete garbage. It’s never there when you need it. And that’s the paradox of it. [It’s] that we’re all sitting there waiting to be motivated and it’s not coming. Because basic wiring of the brain is that you will always default to what’s easy. And you always push against what’s hard. And if motivation were available on demand we’d all have a million dollars and six-pack abs. And so sitting around and waiting for motivation is the kiss of death. Because it’s in the action that you dissipate the emotion, and it’s in the action that you actually prove to yourself through the action, ’cause you see yourself operating differently, that you are a different person, that you are not defined by your emotions.” — Mel Robbins, from A Bit of Optimism Episode 157 interview

    Two days ago I took all the comfortable habits acquired during the holidays and I threw them in the dumpster. For me, New Year’s resolutions are an artificial timeline that hits too abruptly after the holidays. The decorations are still up, how can we possibly mentally declare we’re on to something new yet? But wait a week or a month, see where we are and where we want to get to and simply begin. Decide what to be and go be it.

    The trick is in that waiting. We must act at some point if we’re going to do anything in this life. I waited because of business travel that would have made everything I expected to do to realize my plan impossible. I began because I saw the runway ahead and knew I was clear for takeoff. The implications are clear; we must be committed to the decisions we make and back them up with action immediately to reinforce the new identity we aspire to reach.

    There is a person in my life who doesn’t like when I use the word must in this blog—as if I’m commanding them to do what I write. I would suggest that we each have agency over ourselves or we don’t, and my use of a word does not translate into a demand for someone else’s action. Simply a demand for my own. Initiative begins within. So what is that voice within telling us? Act on that.

    Where do we want to be tomorrow? Where do we want to be in three months or at the end of this calendar year? Begin with the end in mind, establish and commit to a plan and do the work necessary to execute on that plan. If that sounds too business-like a sentence, so be it. We are in the business of life-optimization, and we must (there’s that word again) not wait, we must act now!

    Realize that the year will fly by like all the rest (Tempus fugit). Realize that there will always be something or someone that will pull us away from what we aspire to be. Action is the only proof of identity. Just what will we realize this year? Go be it.

  • To Build Better Days

    Winter days are growing longer. Have you seen the lingering light? Sure, there will be many more cold days ahead, and many more frigid nights. But the earth is tilting back towards the north, offering a gift of brighter each day.

    Nature offers lessons, should we see them. Our hardest days will pass, should we be resilient. Our darkest days will turn brighter when we become aware of the light. And we ourselves—unkempt, distracted and full of accumulated empty calories, may reset and focus on steady improvement in the key areas of our life. Our path isn’t always ours to determine, but how we react to it is uniquely ours.

    Today is ripe with opportunity or it will surely dash our dreams, ’tis largely up to us to decide. When we feel the world is in a rut, when everything has brought us down into despair or depression, why linger there? The only viable choice is to begin climbing. Now is as good a time as any to reset and begin again. To build better days one choice at a time.

  • Habit-Forming

    “I am playing the long game. I am inculcating habit. I am deepening my practice and my commitment, day by day, day after day. I’m training myself and reinforcing myself every day.” — Stephen Pressfield

    All of this writing builds on the reading and living that led to it. Each day reminds us that we have a long way to go still. May our timeline meet our lofty goals.

    Habits develop simply, but they form our identity by becoming embedded within our being. I may say I’m an early riser or an avid reader or possibly a little better than the average as a writer, but I believe these things to be true because I do each every single day. What completes us? I believe it is that which we wrap around ourselves—our relationships, rituals, routines and yes, our beliefs.

    So we are either delusional or devoted to our craft of identity-building. We may feel that we’re on the right path but sense that our pace is all wrong. To ask where we’re going with all of this is essential, because the path lasts a lifetime and it grows shorter by the day. So just where is all this habit-forming taking us?

  • Love the Day

    “We are always getting ready to live, but never living.” — Ralph Waldo Emerson

    “Love the day.” — Ralph Waldo Emerson

    It seems to me that to make the most of our time we ought to begin early with an adventurous spirit For us to love the day, we should squeeze experience out of it. And if we’re going to squeeze, we might as well seek out the juicy stuff.

    Business travel offers insight into how people choose to live. Some plunge right into the deep end, living as if released from prison and making up for lost time in celebration. Some stick to their routines of strict diet and exercise. Most of us fall somewhere in the middle between moderation and excess, accepting the round of drinks and appetizers while trying to avoid the shots of Jägermeister with a 2 AM cheeseburger chaser. To each their own.

    The more days I accumulate on this planet, the more I recognize that a proper ending to yesterday brings a better beginning to today. A fresh, alert mind rising early to meet the morning is full of potential. To stumble out of the gate because we celebrated late limits our possibilities. A good rule of thumb now is to only say yes to things that will allow us to sleep well after the night is over.

    To love the day is to fully live it. We dare not defer our best to tomorrow! So we ought to be aware and alive now. But always with an eye on improvement. Be bold and alert today, and we will build a stronger foundation for tomorrow.

  • Expression

    The reason we’re alive
    is to express ourselves in the world.
    And creating art may be the most
    effective and beautiful method of doing so.

    Art goes beyond language, beyond lives.
    It’s a universal way to send messages
    between each other and through time.
    — Rick Rubin, The Creative Act: A Way of Being

    Walk through a museum and inevitably some work calls to us from across the room. We’re drawn in, connecting to the human who created it who may live next door or lived a thousand years ago on the other side of the world. Human connection through art, literature and poetry, music, photography, architecture and engineering or really any expression that is mined deep within and brought to the world binds us now and through time. Artistic expression is thus a time machine.

    It follows that one who makes art may wonder whether their particular expression is enough. Sure, it’s our verse, but why are we making this and not something else? Why do I write a blog post every bloody day, no matter what? Why does a hiker I know spend every free moment redlining the trails of New Hampshire? Why choose a certain career path over another, potentially more profitable career path? We do it because something within us demands that we do it. Each pursuit fulfills something within, making us whole. And in turn we express that outwardly as part of our identity. This is who we are, doing this, at this moment in time. We are trading our precious time to express this pursuit, but feel more alive for having chosen it.

    Throughout life we acquire skills, develop muscle memory, navigate triumph and tragedy, age and learn and grow through the years that we’re given. All of that changes our perspective about what it is to be a human being. If we choose wisely we maximize our experiences along the way, and if we aren’t wise with our time we accumulate regrets for not doing certain things in the time we were given for it. Our reward is perspective. We grow as people and as artists to the level that we open to the experiences of a lifetime.

    The work that we produce is a time stamp of our experiences, created one after the other, indicating who we were when it was created. Our lens of now is forever altering our perspective, and thus alters our expression. When we think back on the person we were ten years ago, do we smile or shudder? The work that we produced, the routine we built our life around at the time, the people we surrounded ourselves with, all brought us here, to this place and time, where we may express ourselves yet again with this newfound perspective. Expression is a gift of our time and perspective to those who choose to use their time to connect with it (and in that connection perhaps alter their own perspective). We owe it to ourselves and our audience to draw out the best we can in the moment.