Alexandersmap

    Category: Lifestyle

    • Last Chance

      Look, I want to love this world
      as though it’s the last chance I’m ever going to get
      to be alive
      and know it.
      — Mary Oliver, October

      A hot air balloon landed just down the street this morning. The pup growled slowly, deciding whether to bark or to let it go. I spoke to her soothingly, suggesting now was not the time to bark. She generally goes the way I go on such things (a fact that I’ve abused for sophomoric pleasure). Indeed, it would be a lovely morning for a balloon ride, but I used the morning to browse online for houses or boats instead. One day the world will align on the perfect example of each, but alas, not today.

      Perhaps October was an easy choice to quote from, yet I don’t believe I’ve ever used it in any of the eight Octobers that I’ve been writing this blog, nor in the countless Mary Oliver poems that I’ve sampled from. As its name infers, October was originally the eighth month of the year, and the eighth year of writing this blog ought to inspire me to do something memorable with it. Like new homes and new boats, the chances are good that things will remain the same for a while longer.

      The pup sighs and looks at me again, wondering when we’re going to go for a walk. The balloon people have packed up and moved on to mimosas in some parking lot somewhere. The morning’s browsing has done nothing to move the needle on progressing towards change, so I guess we’ll just need to settle in for another October in New Hampshire. That’s not such a bad consolation, is it? We only have so many magical months to savor. Might as well reward the pup’s patience and have a look about.

    • Once Devoted

      “So, preferring death to capture, I accomplished the most astonishing of deeds, and which, more than once, showed me that the too great care we take of our bodies is the only obstacle to the success of those projects which require rapid decision and vigorous and determined execution. In reality, when you have once devoted your life, you are no longer the equal of other men, or rather other men are no longer your equals; and whosoever has taken this resolution feels his strength and resources doubled.” — Alexander Dumas, The Count of Monte Cristo

      As I march through a thousand pages of The Count of Monte Cristo, I wonder why I used this book for years as nothing more than a way to lift my laptop up a couple of inches for a better Teams shot. I know the answer already; I simply wasn’t ready to read it then. Now I am and I use the time to devour it. In reading, I mine golden nuggets like the quote above, to ponder and write about.

      Most of us barely scratch the surface of our potential, but the truly great among us reach levels hardly imagined by the average. And thank goodness for that! Who are the average to determine the heights to which the great may reach? Do we wonder at such things as personal excellence nearly enough, or are we content to just be what we’ve always been? Just who are we to wallow in average when arete whispers to us, “Just ahead, if you’ll only keep going beyond this present level.”

      Perhaps we may agree that purposeful action elevates us beyond the norm. We may disagree on whether we ought to be chasing such dreams, when things are comfortable enough as they are. It’s okay to be average, it’s okay to settle; it’s just not excellence. The point is, there’s still time to exceed our expectations of ourselves. At least for now. There’s still time to do and dare, but dare not wait a moment longer.

    • That Dreadful Routine

      “One travels to run away from routine, that dreadful routine that kills all imagination and all our capacity for enthusiasm.”— Ella Maillart

      Two years ago I chose to step away from business travel. I occasionally feel a pang of loss when a trade show in a city I love to visit comes up and I’m not there, but on the whole, I’ve enjoyed the tradeoff of dining with my bride every night and walking the dog with the stars and not-so-distant howl of coyotes for company.

      This week I met with several people who still live the life I walked away from two years ago. It’s reminded me of the old routine, and I find I don’t miss it much at all. Those early morning trips to the airport to make a flight to make a meeting in some faraway place gets old after a couple of decades of doing it.

      The fullness of our lives is in direct proportion to the creativity of our routines. The more we habituate adventure into our days, the more adventurous our lives. Likewise, the more we travel or venture out to meet other people, the more integral a part of the world we will be. We are what we repeatedly do, after all.

      Still, the travel bug never went away, it was simply channeled into travel with people I care about in places I wanted to go. The routine changed to meet new priorities. The routine will change again, no doubt, as I look to the future. We all ought to scrutinize our routines now and then to determine if it’s become a little, well, routine. And then decide what to be and go be it.

    • October Initium

      My life a spreading ring
      of quiet, like the trout’s brief
      in-breath
      at the surface of a river,
      like the slow
      outward movement of a raindrop
      spreading on a still lake.
      — David Whyte, Death Waits

      Initium is the Latin word from which initiate is derived. It simply means a beginning. Today is the first day of October, which seems an appropriate day to begin something beyond a new month. We don’t have to wait for New Year’s Day for such things as life change, we simply need to decide to begin.

      What is a great life but the steady expansion of personal experience? We are collectors of days, filled with that which enriches us. To leave a day empty feels wasteful. Do something with the gift, or squander it. We rise each day facing the same choice.

      Initiative is only the beginning. We must act upon it. On this first day of October, seize what flees. Carpe diem.

    • Lean In

      Oh we’ll talk about
      These days twenty years from now
      Lean in and look around
      The golden days are happening now
      — Layup, Golden Days

      Some days we don’t talk to a soul. Some days surprise us with more souls crossing our path than we ever expected. Today was a surprise, encountering enough old acquaintances to field a baseball team (maybe they would fare better than the one playing the Yankees as this is published). The secret? Getting out there and putting oneself in the thick of things.

      I should be watching that ball game, but instead I’m writing this blog post. I don’t view pro sports the way I used to. Or maybe I simply value my time a lot more now. As Bonnie Raitt put it, time is mighty precious now that there’s less of it to waste.

      What do we make of a day? We see a few old friends, we check off the essential few things that make a day complete, and maybe we add in one or two things that make us feel like we’ve done something more with this one day than we might have otherwise. Lean in and do that which best fills the hour, because when it comes to time, gold is made through what we do with it. Surely making gold is better than squandered hours.

    • As Best We Can

      “I perceive that, when an acorn and a chestnut fall side by side, the one does not remain inert to make way for the other, but both obey their own laws, and spring and grow and flourish as best they can, till one, perchance, overshadows and destroys the other. If a plant cannot live according to its nature, it dies; and so a man.” — Henry David Thoreau, Civil Disobedience

      It’s been a while since I’ve quoted Henry. I think it was the bumper crop of acorns that prompted me to revisit his work. When you live amongst the oak trees, you experience the full gamut of seasons with them, from catkins to acorns to stubborn leaves that hold on long after the maples and ash trees have gone bare. The oaks were here first, and (hopefully) they’ll be here long after I leave this place. I am but a steward of the land in my time.

      We know that time is flying rapidly along, because we experience the fruits of our own seasons. My catkin season is long past, I’m gathering as many acorns as I can before the harvest is over. With any luck, my own leaves will hold as an oaks, and not a swamp maple’s. Time will tell.

      The lesson, of course, is to learn to live according to our nature, but also in harmony with nature. Those who thrive in a lifetime do so with vigor, but also balance. So it is that I got back to my kettle bell workouts, and read in earnest, and yes, write this blog to keep growing and flourishing as best I can. We all ought to strive to deeply root ourselves with a sense of place and time and see just how far we can stretch ourselves towards the light. To exist otherwise isn’t really living at all.

    • Be Inclined

      Had I known that the first was the last
      I should have kept it longer.
      Had I known that the last was the first
      I should have drunk it stronger.
      Cup, it was your fault,
      Lip was not the liar.
      No, lip, it was yours,
      Bliss was most to blame.
      — Emily Dickinson

      Time is quickly devoured, but too seldom savored. Opportunities are sometimes seized, often missed. That’s life; figured out as it’s stumbled upon, scorned when reflected on. Don’t beat yourself up friend, for all of us are figuring it out and being our own worst critic. That’s life amongst we humans.

      Opportunity knocks, daily. We are what we repeatedly do (excellence being a habit). To be better, we ought to work on our inclinations. Be inclined to seize more moments, be inclined to say yes to bold and courageous, even in the face of pragmatism and logic and the biggest enemy of audacity, comfort.

      Fear wears many cloaks. Regrets feed on timidity and indecision. Don’t play tomorrow’s blame game: Be inclined to be bold today.

    • Been There

      The last few weeks, I’ve noticed friends and family going to places I’ve been as well. It’s interesting to see their pictures, compare them to the ones I took when I was in those places, remember favorite places and recommend they check them out if they have time, and wonder at the places I missed when I was there that they found. Bravo! Now I want to go back again.

      Having been there doesn’t make us experts on the place, it only makes us familiar with it. My six day in Paris were wonderful and I wouldn’t trade them for anything, save maybe more time in Paris. And I feel the same way about Rome and Vienna and Dublin and Edinburgh and London and Barcelona and… you get the point. Having been there is simply a starting point in the conversation. The real question is, what did we get out of the experience of being there?

      It goes without saying that I want to go back to almost every place I’ve been to. But I know it’s unlikely I ever will with most of them. Sure, two or three major cities warrant a return, but if we don’t actually live near that city, the chances of us returning are pretty remote. There’s just so much to see and do in this world, and life, as we know, is ever so brief. So make the most out of every visit, for we may never pass this way again.

      But let’s hope we do.

    • The Forever Regimen

      “21 days? 30 days? 66 days?
      The honest answer is: forever. Because once you stop doing it, it is no longer a habit.
      A habit is a lifestyle to be lived, not a finish line to be crossed. Make small, sustainable changes you can stick with.” — James Clear

      James Clear had it right; the answer is forever. At least when the question is about how long we should do something for it to be deeply-engrained in our identity. This applies equally well to fitness and nutrition, writing, reading, disciplined action at work or any other habit we wish to sustain for the rest of our lives.

      Nothing affirms this more than taking a break from our routine for more than a few days. Suddenly what was simply who we were and what we did becomes a task we must add back into our day. Nature abhors a void, and the time we spent doing a weight circuit or writing a blog post is seized for reading a book or watching Schitt’s Creek. The new habit dominates our muscle memory and we have to force ourselves back on track.

      The regimen is who we are, forever. Until we stop, and then we are this other person who used to be more consistent with that positive habit we’ll one day we wish to get back to. Begin again today, if we must. But stick with it this time. We’ll thank ourselves later.

    • Like Any Great Story

      “Good friends, good books, and a sleepy conscience: this is the ideal life.” — Mark Twain

      I’ve delighted in a series of great books this year. I wonder what my top ten will be when the year is over, mostly because I keep working to up the ante with another great book after finishing the special one that resonated most recently. Momentum in reading, as in life, is built incrementally. We know it when we experience it.

      I have several books I’ve been meaning to get to this year. Some are new to me, some are old favorites that will read differently as I’ve changed. I’m one of those people who don’t “count” the books I reread the same way as I count new to me books. It’s like the number of “friends” we might have on social media; the total means everything to some people and nothing much at all to others. How many true friends can one person have? The only score that matters is what we experience when we’re together. May we each measure up in that moment.

      Some books, as with some friends, are better than others. What we immerse ourselves in means everything. Some books we love we can only read once. Some we choose to read again and again, finding nuance and meaning missed or forgotten in previous encounters with the page. So it is with the inner circle with whom we spend our lives.

      Our ideal life unfolds before us, like any great story. What seems ordinary when it’s happening turns into something life-changing as we turn the pages day-to-day. I think about the first time I met a few people in my life who changed me profoundly in later chapters. If we’re lucky, we each have one or two life-long friends in our lives who make life ideal, but we also have those people who meant something in a moment who stay with us in our memories for the rest of our days. Their voices play in our minds like a Favorites playlist.