Alexandersmap

    Category: Lifestyle

    • Offered Back

      What is my name,
      o what is my name
      that I may offer it back
      to the beautiful world?

      Have I walked
      long enough
      where the sea breaks raspingly
      all day and all night upon the pale sand?
      — Mary Oliver, From the Book of Time

      To be out in the world every day, aware and alive, that’s the thing. To write about it is no longer the point, to be present with it is. The words simply look for a place to call home afterwards.

      Do we understand the whispered potential of another day? Shun the belief that it will always be so. Our mission is to capture its essence as best we can and to accept the invitation to dance with life.

      To realize magic just as it ripens on the vine this very moment seems more imperative than ever in a world full of other people’s hysteria. What’s real is what brushes up on us this very moment. Slow down, have a look around, breathe and take the next step.

    • Unvisited Tombs

      “…for the growing good of the world is partly dependent on unhistoric acts; and that things are not so ill with you and me as they might have been, is half owing to the number who lived faithfully a hidden life, and rest in unvisited tombs.”
      ― George Eliot, Middlemarch

      We may be inspired by the occasional brilliant life that changes the world, or puts a dent in the universe, as Steve Jobs once said. Most of us will never be Steve Jobs, will never ascend to levels once unimagined in humble beginnings, will never have all that much of a ripple at all. And yet we may have a verse.

      Perhaps this blog has been my verse, but more likely than not, it’s but a small footnote in a life lived. We are more than the things we write, after all. Even the most prolific writers have far more in their lives than words written on a page. And yet those words dance with infinity, while we humans have a shelf life.

      I borrowed the quote above from James Clear’s weekly newsletter. I thought immediately of people in my life who have passed on, who lie interred in graves not all that far from where I write this, whom I haven’t visited in some time. I owe them a visit, just as I owe a visit to those still living. At the very least, perhaps a phone call to let them know I’ve been thinking about them. We tend to wonder about the impact we’re having on other’s lives when we don’t ever hear from them. ’tis best to let them know while they’re still around just how much they’ve meant to us.

      I’m under no illusion that I’ll ever be famous. I’ve never aspired to fame, or even fortune. My only goal is to make a positive difference in the lives of the people I care about the most, and to have enough FU money to completely disregard the bastards who would otherwise grind me down. Call that an aspiration if you will, or simply a general guide for living.

      This blog, over the years, may in fact be my way of revealing what is otherwise largely hidden. There’s no doubt that some people in my life follow it closer than I ever expected them to (while others follow it far less than I ever hoped they would), but the vast majority are people I will never meet or interact with. Were I to stop today, life would go on as it usually does, and that’s okay. Because for now at least, mine will too.

      This blog has been my way of dangling who I aspire to be in front of me in a futile attempt to reach personal excellence(arete). I won’t ever reach those heights, but I’ve reached higher than I would have otherwise. My legacy will not be some engraved granite atop a plot of land, but the contribution I made to make the world better than it might otherwise have been. And that, friends, is something to rest in peace with.

    • A Wee Bit Louder

      “If you ask me what I came into this life to do, I will tell you: I came to live out loud.” — Émile Zola

      Many of us consider before we act, look before we leap, weigh risks and assess odds and all sorts of things that keep us out of trouble, but also keep us from doing the stuff of life. Be bold, I say, but don’t be reckless. That caveat makes all the difference between a life lived out loud and a quietly stable life that’s good enough to pass the deathbed test.

      We all want to sing that old Sinatra song out loud, shouting we did it our way, with too few regrets to mention, but most of us will keep a mental ledger of the things we didn’t do anyway. We believe that it’s the things we do that get us into trouble and opt for the safer regret of not having leapt into the stormy sea. Consider it a moral victory? Sure, if it helps. We may be present in the commitments we’ve made in our lives while still living as an example of how much more living one might do if we’d just turn up the volume.

      I used to write about places I wanted to go in my lifetime, only to see people in my life go to those places while I stayed behind. I found myself chagrined by others doing the thing I’d wanted to do, someday. Was the chagrin aimed at them or myself? We all know that comparison is a fool’s game and a joy killer. It’s on us to make bold plans and to act upon them. Part of growing wiser (if not yet wise) is learning to stop talking about what we’re going to do and just go do it. That, friend, makes us more interesting to others, but especially to ourselves.

      What did you do today?” is a far better question to answer than “What are you going to do today?” So I won’t tell you where I’m going next, what my plans are for the future, or even what I’m going to do today; but I may just write about it afterwards. Or simply use the time to move on to the next thing beyond the limit of what was once considered a stretch. To live a wee bit louder is the aim; may my aim be true.

    • Taut Boldness

      “I don’t care about spending much time with people who haven’t a definite personality. I am that kind of an equalitarian. I like to mix with my equals, people who have as much personality as I have… but the great thing is taut boldness… People… will tell you that freedom lies in being cautious… Freedom lies in being bold.” — Robert Frost

      Robert Frost’s take on boldness is surprising if we think of productive poets as disciplined, but less so if we think of them as audacious. Don’t we have to be a little audacious to publish our work expecting the world to take notice? I think this is especially true of poets. What fascinates me is the company he kept. To be at that table with those bold characters, talking of bigger things than the average. Am I so bold as to believe I could hold my own?

      I’ve long believed that boldness offers opportunities seldom available with timidity. Maybe mothers don’t like to hear bold talk, but free spirits are stirred by it. For all the structured discipline in my life, there’s still a wild child hiding within. Now and then he sees the light of day.

      The world is full of exceptional people, each bold in their own way to reach the higher stratosphere in which they fly. Each day builds or erodes personal excellence. Boldness plays as much a role as grit or resolve do. We choose who we will become, how high we might fly, and yes, the company we will ultimately keep.

    • A Trouble of Excitement

      “I think you write only out of a great trouble. A trouble of excitement, a trouble of enlargement, a trouble of displacement in yourself.” — Eleanor Clark

      Do you feel that restlessness, that trouble of excitement, that comes with being fully alive? To do and be more naturally lends itself to conflict, both internal and with people who want to treat us as who they’ve grown to believe we are. Without realizing that maybe that’s who we once were and nothing more. Of course, we ought to recognize this in ourself as well.

      I was talking to an automotive shop owner who replaced the previous owner, since retired. I asked if he still saw the previous owner, and he told me, all the time. He was bored in retirement and visited the shop to stay connected with who he once was. We know many people, don’t we, who are simply repeat who they were day-after-day until one day they’re expected to leave that another may take over and do the same. Human history may be thought of as generation-after-generation of people taking their turn in a job, a home, a relationship, or a voice of reason in the latest chaotic moment in history. We are simply taking our turn at this thing we do today, and then we will take our turn at something else tomorrow. Trouble begins when someone can’t or won’t follow the natural order of things. Does that mean that trouble is a bad thing, or simply recognized as change?

      What are you going to do when you retire? I have no trouble imagining the answers myself. One day, when I’m done with all of this, I will travel and garden and spend time with people inside and out of my current orbit. Perhaps I’ll be a grandfather who disrupts the fabric of a child’s proper upbringing. Perhaps I’ll follow through on bold claims of long hikes and longer passages on a boat that hasn’t been adopted into my current lifestyle yet. Perhaps all of these things or things not yet imagined in the current state of creativity an interesting life demands of us. I believe that whatever the future brings, I will write something about it for as long as my mind and body allow.

    • Something Tangible

      It ill becomes me: that I’m older,
      Time I should be more sensible…
      And yet the frivolous disorder
      Fills every jitter of my soul.
      — Alexander Pushkin, Confession

      I had the house power washed a couple of days ago. I say this with some chagrin, for I own a pressure washer and generally do such things myself (fancying myself a homeowner for some time now). But I will acknowledge that things fall through the cracks when we get busy living under the robe of identity we weave for ourselves. It was easier to simply pay someone to do what I could well have done myself.

      My job was to remove the screens from the windows. Let me confess that some of those screens haven’t been removed in twenty years. We thought we had clean windows because we could see out of the glass. It turned out we did not have clean windows. But now that we do, the revelation of all that we’d been missing is a little embarrassing. That we can see clearly now makes the time not seeing clearly all the more surprising. There are of course analogies to be drawn between those windows and the current state of things in the world, but really, why go there yet again? Most of us can see it now, but there are still too many blissfully unaware of what they cannot see.

      We all get busy and focused on things that make us not see other things that whisper for attention. Sometimes we have to be jolted into awareness by a check engine light, or the sudden passing of a friend we thought was doing okay because they simply said they were. We ought to dig deeper, we ought to be more rigid in maintaining order in our own lives, that nothing escapes us. But this is folly; the very act of focusing on one thing means that we inevitably take our focus off of something else. We can’t be everywhere at once, we have to trust that some things will take care of themselves.

      So it is that things slip through those cracks. Dirty windows aren’t the worst of things, and I’m pleased that they’re now clean again. It’s prompted me to look at other things that have whispered for attention and to knock off a few other things before the long, cold winter calls. I’m older now, even if I’m not yet old. There are things that must be done to keep order with myself, and not just this house. Disorder is an acceptable condition of youth because there always seems to be more time left to get back on track. In time we either learn to see clearly or have our light dim for want of attention.

      The opposite of frivolous disorder is focused discipline. That may not sound fun at all on the surface, until we put one foot in front of the other and make meaningful progress in our lives. I used to love that line from The Beatles’ song, “Oh that magic feeling, nowhere to go”. But I’m older now, and it turns out that I’m quite fond of having someplace to go, and something to do when I get there. We’ll never have it all figured out, but we ought to find something tangible to call our life.

    • Buried Deep

      “The friends we have lost do not repose in the bosom of the earth, but are buried deep in our hearts; and it has been thus ordained that we may always be accompanied by them.”
      — Alexander Dumas, The Count of Monte Cristo

      This may be the last quote I offer from this novel, as I’ve finished it and resolved to move on to the next great read. Having spent a fortnight off and on with Dumas, I believe that his classic will stay with me for as long as my memory does. Great books, like great people, have a way of residing within us even when we’ve had to move on in our lives.

      The quote had me thinking about a few people from my past recently. Some have passed away, some have slipped away. Time marches on, but I can still hear their voices and still smile at something said once upon a time. Those who passed away are locked in the amber of our moment together. Those who slipped away feel like they’re one chance encounter from being back in my life again. But more than likely they’re like the dead: ghosts that we knew.

      Did they recall our time together and smile, or were they simply relieved that they’d moved on? I suppose that depends on how much I held up my end of the bargain in our time together. We all ought to remember that time is short, and to make something of the moment at hand.

      After thinking about past acquaintances, I thought about some people in my present. Some are already receding into memory, some continue to stubbornly hold on (as we hold on to them). Deep connection isn’t mined in a day, it takes a shared history, shared highlights, and yes, shared suffering. The fact is, people come and go, while we keep going. Life is full of loss, but also full of discovery and the occasional happy reunion.

      Then again, they’re all still with us, in their own way.

    • Hold Your Hat

      Dogs lay down in the evening heat
      Fish do worse when they leave the sea
      Songbirds only end up where they’re going
      In this autumn town where the lights can change
      Some get mercy and some get blamed
      Some get lost when they feel the river flowing
      It’s all holy smoke and the flame dies fast
      We hold our hats while the days fly past
      Cold wind comes and we wait but it keeps going
      Father, Sons and Holy Ghosts
      All come back or they all come close
      Songbirds only end up where they’re going
      Some get hard and some go home
      Some want flesh and some want bone
      I just want to see you in the morning
      — Iron & Wine, Autumn Town Leaves

      Taking a lunchtime walk yesterday, I finally saw the grapes I’ve been smelling on evening walks. The grape leaves have largely vacated the vines, leaving the grapes exposed for all to see. I left them hanging for the birds and squirrels to eat. I savored them this season with my other senses, and that’s enough for me.

      This will be written and published on the tenth day of the tenth month. Two years ago, according to my line per day journal, we had a tremendous aurora borealis lighting up the skies. The great thing about a line per day journal is that we are reminded of things like that as we enter this day’s line.

      Some days bring more to wonder at than other days, but they all might be savored. The objective, of course, is to do something eventful enough to be noteworthy. Magic may or may not ensue today, but surely we can make it interesting.

      How the days fly by while we hold our hats and lean into our lives. Go for a walk in the woods, go to the orchard for apple cider donuts and pumpkins, feel the warmth of the sun counter the These are days to remember, as we live them. Whatever we do, be there for it.

    • Declaration

      My declaration
      will be
      absolute.

      An arrival
      in the here
      and the now.

      Then
      there will
      be little else to do.

      I will have become like
      the madman running
      to see the moon
      in the window,
      the hawk
      I saw tracing the cliff edge
      above the river.

      I will be the man
      I have pursued all along
      and finally caught.
      — David Whyte, Mortality My Mistress

      Declarations are nothing without action executed to conclusion. We must learn to keep our promises to ourselves and others, and to back up our words with results. We are where we are because of our actions, not because of some declaration.

      There is a growing awareness that may reveal itself through the accumulation of years. We grow wealthy given time and compounding interest. Call it wisdom or call it experience, it’s collected through deliberate action and an inclination to be present with life as it unfolds before us.

      Not all who grow old grow wise, any more than gathering years mean that we have gathered experience. Gathering is itself a deliberate act.

      Not all who age grow old. Youthful vigor is derived from receptivity multiplied by energy. We are as alive as we allow ourselves to be, no matter our age.

      If an arrival infers place, a declaration suggests direction towards something more. We may savor place while aspiring for more. At least that’s the mindset I have as I arrive at this place with an eye towards the next. Today, we are as fit and wise and wealthy as yesterday has made us. This is nothing but currency to spend as an investment in the present and future person we wish to be.

    • Enjoy Yourself

      Enjoy yourself, it’s later than you think
      Enjoy yourself, while you’re still in the pink
      The years go by, as quickly as you wink
      Enjoy yourself, enjoy yourself, it’s later than you think
      — The Specials, Enjoy Yourself

      Thanks Ted Lasso, for reminding me of this old gem. Joyful noise is my kind of music. I collect it, play it louder than I ought to, dance to it until the knee and ankle remind me that it’s later than I think.

      It’s all going so very quickly, isn’t it? Tempus fugit. Might as well enjoy the ride while it lasts. Sure, the world is a hot mess, the fools will always be foolish, the planet is ready to shrug humanity off for good, but all of that aside, this is the one go at things that we’ll ever have. And sure, the years go fly by. So get up, get out, and dance already.