Alexandersmap

    Category: Lifestyle

    • An Abundance Of Caution

      I’m not an alarmist, I deliberately avoid watching the hand-wringing news and for the most part I’m not in a high risk category when it comes to coronavirus,or COVID-19. I’ve always been a “hand washer” and I can time the process of washing them with Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star just fine, thank you (instead of that mind worm I use the beginning of Fly Me To The Moon, which conveniently reaches 20 seconds right when you reach the word “hand”). But I’m taking coronavirus seriously.

      I’ve previously mocked people who hoard dust masks (which won’t work), Purell (which may work but won’t protect everyone that can’t get any because of the hoarders), and toilet paper (which is proven to work but how much do you really need anyway?) and will continue to do so. We don’t need self-absorbed behavior right now. We need self-aware behavior; Be prepared, be considerate, be scarce for awhile if necessary. I have enough food to camp at home for a couple of weeks if the same travel restrictions imposed on Italy are imposed on the United States. Contingency plans aren’t panicky or hoarding behavior, just as building a nest egg for retirement is expected one might expect people to have a bit of food ready if needed.

      One phrase, Legal and PR Department-approved, seems to be taking hold as the world reacts to the spread of COVID-19: “Out of an abundance of caution” [fill in with cancellation or new procedure here]. Out of an abundance of caution we’re postponing this trade show. Out of an abundance of caution we’ve temporarily switched from ceramic coffee mugs to disposable cups. Out of an abundance of caution we’ve cancelled all visitor meetings. Out of an abundance of caution we are extending college Spring Break by a week … or in some case, out of an abundance of caution all students will take online classes for the rest of the semester.

      Cancelling the rest of in-class participation for the rest of the semester is an extraordinary step, but logical when your student population consists of a high percentage of people from around the globe. I feel for those students having their very expensive college experience cut short, but I’m a student of history and recognize the devastation a pandemic or plague can cause. Humans have one major predator left in this world besides other humans, and that’s viruses. On the plus side we’ve never been more aware of how to fight this predator, but getting all spun up isn’t helping anything. The world and coronavirus doesn’t owe you anything: deal with it like an adult.

      There’s plenty of examples of taking an abundance of caution too far (I’m looking at you toilet paper hoarder), but it’s a reasonable request to take extra measures now to safeguard against an uncontainable pandemic later. So as we all look around at this strange new reality, make the most of it; work to contribute more to the positive direction of humanity with all that extra time at home instead of binge watching television or 24-hour news. Take walks outside away from the crowds. The world could use a little more sanity right about now. I believe that starts with you and me, kiddo. Ready?

    • That Which Is Around Us

      “I am what is around me.” – Wallace Stevens, Theory

      We build the world around us, surrounding ourselves with things and people that reinforce for us that image in our minds. Believe you’re a hiker? Go to the mountains and be one. Sailor? Get a boat or crew in someone else’s. Runner? Get some good running shoes and hit the pavement again and again until it becomes your identity. Writer? Write every day: immerse yourself in the Great Conversation, pull in all that is around you like a warm blanket on a cold night and share it with the world.

      I heard about the death of a friendly acquaintance last night. He was larger than life in some ways, but fragile from years of abusing his body. He would drink too much, love too many, drive too fast and talk even faster, but he had a good heart and it showed in how he treated those around him. He lived the work hard, play hard mantra more than anyone I’ve ever met. I learned not to keep up with him drinking, to drive separately when going to meetings, and to keep pace when it came to work. I was just in his town last week but decided not to call him, thinking I didn’t have the time. It turns out I only had that time.

      We are what is around us. Jimmy surrounded himself with a lifestyle that killed him young, but was as fully alive as anyone I’ve met. We don’t get to choose everything that happens in our lives, but in our daily habits we slowly build up and reinforce our image of ourselves and what we might become. Ultimately it’s all just a story in our mind, and like any story you can choose to send it in another direction at any time. But you can’t turn a tragic-comedy into an action-adventure or a romance novel easily. Sometimes you’ve got to scrap the entire first draft and start writing a new book.

      As a nod to Jimmy, I’ll work to be more alive in the moment, but with a lot less vodka. I’ll work hard in my career and play hard at healthier activities than he chose. Like Jimmy I’ll beam in pride at my kids, but will try to lead by example that the things you surround yourself with in this one precious life matter much more than you might think. Those things either hold you up or press you down, so choose wisely. Thanks for the reminder Jimmy.

    • The Abnormal Climb

      “You can’t be normal and expect abnormal results.” – Naval Ravikant

      There’s nothing wrong with normal; the pursuit of normal usually offers you an average, lovely life. But if you want to be ultra-wealthy or a washboard abs model or win the Olympics or be an astronaut or a Nobel Peace Prize winner, well, be abnormal. They don’t just give space suits to the guy ahead of you at Starbucks. Unless that guy is a Navy pilot with a Masters in Astrophysics anyway, and even then his odds aren’t great. Nope, be different than the billions of people marching through life…. or embrace the beauty of average. We all have that choice.

      I’ve dabbled in the pursuit of excellence in athletics, and frankly I opted out early. Pursue Olympic-level rowing? Thought I’d give it a try. Learned quickly that it was a very steep and long climb. I opted to be a big fish in a smaller pond. Regrets? I’ve had a few. Pursuing elite rowing isn’t one of them. I’ve known several Olympians over the years, one rowed out of the same boathouse as me. She won a silver medal! Olympians seem average on the surface, there’s an abnormal core there – a focus, that I deeply admire. But I knew it wasn’t me.

      We all want to be excellent at something, if we’re lucky we figure out quickly what we shouldn’t attempt to excel in. Sometimes great or pretty good still sets us up for an exceptional life. I was a pretty good rower back in my time, but not willing to do the “abnormal” work needed to be world class. I smile thinking about the lecture I heard from the National Team Coach emphatically telling a friend and me that the work needed was far beyond what we were doing at the time (and we were very fit). I appreciated his time and candor, assessed my willingness to execute on the plan and opted out. In a different pond I might have pushed through, but the pond I was in seemed good enough.

      “Whenever you find yourself on the side of the majority, it is time to pause and reflect.” – Mark Twain

      This quote on the surface is funny (or scary in this political climate), but peel back a layer and there’s truth in the message. In the context of pursuing the abnormal there’s magic in Mark’s clever quip. Find your unique path, work hard and be excellent at it. Don’t be the majority, be something more. I’ve long since hung up the oar, but hey, maybe the writing will take off. At the very least I owe it to myself to become a better writer. There’s honor in the pursuit of excellence, even if we never reach it. Somebody once said that “never” is a belief, it doesn’t have to be shackles. I saw that in rowers who accepted the same challenge I opted out of who eventually wore Olympic hardware.

      “Blah, blah, blah, blah. DO THE WORK.” – Jocko Willink

      At some point you get tired of regurgitating excuses and you find something to be singularly focused on pursuing. We’re all running out of time, get up and do something already. Balance is important but it’s also an excuse. Prioritize, focus and do the work. Want to be a writer? Do the work? Ab model? Do the work. Olympic athlete? Do. The. Work. We arrive at excellence by what we focus on, and by what we say no to along the way. The day offers the same opportunity for all of us living in a free society, so why exhaust that day coming up with excuses for why you didn’t do something? Get fit, work abnormally hard at your chosen craft, whether writing or astronaut or parent, be consistently, abnormally doing the work, and you’ll reach a level of excellence – or at the very least, be well above average. Seems a worthwhile climb after all.

    • The Possible Nows

      The sky is pastel pink and blue, announcing that there will be a lovely sunrise today. I’m down in the valley in the woods of New Hampshire this morning. To properly capture this show would require a drive to the top of a hill two miles away. I sip my coffee and contemplate the mad dash for the perfect Instagram image, and turn back to my morning routine. I look for the moments and embrace them when they appear, but I usually choose not to chase them.

      By all accounts it’s been a great winter for the Aurora Borealis. I check its progress often, but concede I’m not getting to Iceland, Norway, Labrador or even Northern Maine anytime soon. I’m deeply immersed in work and renovating a bathroom, firmly setting myself in the foundation of family priorities. There is a time for everything, and I’ve chosen not to chase the Northern Lights; once demolition started the work was no longer a choice.

      As I’ve matured I’ve gotten a little better at negating the effects of temporal discounting in my actions. Meaning I’m not dropping everything important in my longer term future to visit friends island hopping in the Caribbean or family beachside in Florida. I count seven spots on my hands where I’ve donated blood to my bathroom renovation this week – believe me, I’d rather have deposited that money into flight tickets and a new bathing suit. But the bathroom offers a greater return on investment at the moment.

      Temporal discounting is more challenging in our daily habits. I have a goal to lose some weight by my birthday in April. But I still grab a handful of M & M’s in the bowl by the door on my way out. One habit offers immediate gratification, the other offers longer term benefit but involves sacrificing gratification in this moment. Temporal discounting is a tough bear to wrestle. The answer lies in removing the bowl of candy next to the door until you can stop seeing it as a desirable gratification in the moment.

      The flip side of temporal discounting logic is the recognition that I’m not getting any younger. There are plenty of examples of people in my life facing cancer or other instant state changes in how they’re able to navigate this life. There’s only now. And so perhaps driving to see the sunrise was the better choice, just as buying the flight tickets might be. Do it now, before it’s too late is a version of do it now because it feels good. It’s temporal discounting disguised as logic.

      And there’s the wrestling match between the possible nows. Do what feels good now or defer it indefinitely (or dismiss it forever) for the greater good. An angel on one shoulder, a devil on the other, both whispering their advice. I could be in Iceland staring up at the sky, swimming in warm tropical sea water this evening, or I could finish this bathroom floor and pack for a business trip tomorrow. I know the right choice, and I know the desirable choice. Don’t we all? Another George Bailey moment on this march through life. But in the end his story turned out okay, didn’t it?

    • More Art

      “If beautiful art does not express moral ideas, ideas which unite people, then it is not art, but only entertainment. People need to be entertained in order to distance themselves from disappointment in their lives. ” – Immanuel Kant

      A nod to Tolstoy for this quote…

      Sometimes you see the truth immediately in a piece of art, in a poem, in a paragraph or a scene. Something that transcends. Something that lifts, prods, pulls you. Art speaks, if we listen. I can remove the word “art” and insert “nature” or “spirituality” or maybe even “love” in that sentence and it resonates the same. Art is all of those things, and all those things in turn are art.

      I’ve learned to say no. No to television news. No (but thank you anyway) to Facebook. No to most entertainment, not because I don’t like to be entertained, but because I want to think. You can’t meditate on the world with a laugh track playing. No isn’t a rejection of the world, it’s an acceptance of more essential things.

      Does that make me boring? Perhaps to someone seeking only entertainment. Then again, I have a lot more to say than I once did. I’m moving towards art, towards uniting people, towards the essential truth in life. Perhaps I’ll find it, but I’m already better for seeking it.

    • Writing: Wrestling With The Angel

      “The most regretful people on earth are those who felt the call to creative work, who felt their own creative power restive and uprising, and gave to it neither power nor time.” – Mary Oliver

      You know those moments when you lie there knowing you’re going to be creaky and sore even before you get out of bed? That was me after a day of bathroom renovation work. Being tall, laying tile seems especially tough on the body. But hopefully worth it in the end. But this morning was the sore all over shuffle, and I quietly got myself hydrated and caffeinated as a nod to yesterday before focusing on today’s work. Monday. Lot to do this week. Lot to do today. But first the morning routine, more important than ever when you feel like a panini in a press.

      Writing every day has its rewards, but also it’s price. Time mostly, but also focus. There are mornings when I have a lot to do in the rest of my life and the last thing I want to do is write. But I write anyway to keep the streak alive and find once I’ve settled my mind to it the writing flows easily. So I sit here writing with the cat perched over my shoulder, tail whipping my head prodding me to pay attention, coffee cooling within reach, clock ticking in my head and so much to say. The writing flows despite the cat, despite the clock, despite the soreness. I’m giving power to the muse; I’ve committed to the ride.

      Blogging is a different form of writing than other writing, and I know I’m stalling on the project I have in my mind. I’ve developed the consistent effort of publishing every day, but there’s more to do. The muse laughs at me and says you’re not fully committed, just look at the schedule you’ve built for yourself around work and family and bathroom renovations! Come back to me when you’re serious about that writing project and then we’ll dance. And I nod my head, knowing the truth is out. The blogging continues, the project doesn’t, the other things in life tap on my shoulder saying time for us. And I write faster, knowing this dance is almost over for the day.

      Mary Oliver spotlighted the commitment needed to the craft:

      “He who does not crave that roofless place eternity should stay at home. Such a person is perfectly worthy, and useful, and even beautiful, but is not an artist…

      The working, concentrating artist is an adult who refuses interruption from himself, who remains absorbed and energized in and by the work—who is thus responsible to the work.

      The poem gets written. I have wrestled with the angel and I am stained with light and I have no shame. Neither do I have guilt.” – Mary Oliver, Upstream, Selected Essays

      There it is; guilt. You either wrestle with the angel or you open the door to the rest of life to come in. It might seem like you’re all dancing together, but the muse likes to dance with you alone on the floor or not at all. I nod my regrets, say goodbye for now and welcome the Monday crowd. May we dance a bit longer next time?

    • Giving Yourself Away

      “We think the fire eats the wood. We are wrong. The wood reaches out to the flame. The fire licks at what the wood harbors, and the wood gives itself away to that intimacy, the manner in which we and the world meet each new day. Harm and boon in the meetings…” – Jack Gilbert, Harm And Boon In The Meetings

      I’ve had a book of poetry by Jack Gilbert for a couple of years now, but never really felt the pull of the pages to immerse myself in it until now. He’s grieving in this poem, which is more apparent as it progresses beyond my quote, but I’m drawn to the analogy of wood reaching out to the flame. All relationships are this dance between giving yourself away and in consuming the other half of the relationship as they give themselves away. It’s this concept of what you and your partner bring to the relationship today, tomorrow and the next day. Some days you give well more than your 50%, sometimes you give a lot less, but the sum of the two gets you closer to 100%. Balance. Yin and Yang. Order and Chaos in a perfect unity.

      The damage happens when one partner is always being consumed while the other burns. We’ve all been on both sides of that, whether in a friendship, a job or a marriage. Those relationships either end when one half burns out of the other jumps to another fuel source. I’m no relationship coach, but I’m approaching 25 years of marriage of playing both the fire and the wood. That gives me some level of experience in the subject, if never truly expertise. There seems to be plenty of fuel left to keep our fire burning for whatever time we’re given, and it comes back to the lyrics of the song that started it all for us, pointing to this concept of the dance between fire and the wood:

      “Now everyone dreams of a love lasting and true
      But you and I know what this world can do
      So let’s make our steps clear that the other may see
      And I’ll wait for you
      If I should fall behind
      Wait for me”
      – Bruce Springsteen, If I Should Fall Behind

      Maybe this should have been a Valentine’s Day post, but the reality is that the real work of relationships starts after the honeymoon, after the flowers and chocolates of Valentine’s Day, after the fire’s been burning for awhile. That’s when you know if you’re relationship is more than just tinder. The fire licks at what the wood harbors, and the wood gives itself away to that intimacy. I keep coming back to this line, and recognizing myself and a lifetime of relationships in the words. We all offer ourselves to the world, and sometimes we’re burned badly. A fire does similar damage to a forest, but the forest often comes back stronger. A relationship is resilient when both sides recognize themselves in the fire and the wood – consumption and fuel – and each strives for balance in what they bring to it.

    • Between the Memorable

      “Our lives happen between the memorable.” – Jack Gilbert, Highlights And Interstices

      I don’t recall ever using the word interstices in a sentence before referencing Gilbert’s poem here, but it marries well with the quote I pulled from the poem. Interstices is the intervening space between things. So for every highlight in a life; graduation, marriage, birth of a child, bucket list trip, there’s the million seemingly mundane things that happen in between. The drive to and back from the game, not the game itself. The five minutes you’re sitting on rolled out paper in the doctor’s office, versus the time that you’re engaged with the doctor as you’re trying to diagnose why things aren’t quite right. Interstices is the break in the trees that lets that flicker of light shine in your face. It’s the stuff of life, yet the stuff in between the highlights.

      I’m sitting in a restaurant parking lot waiting for a breakfast appointment to show up. The calendar shows the appointment, and sometimes I’ll block off the drive time to ensure I give myself the time. But this waiting time is blank on my calendar. And yet it’s not blank space in my life. We’re reminded of the tenuous hold we have in life when that doctor informs you or someone in your family that not quite right is something worse. For all our talk of living in the moment, sometimes we forget about life between the memorable. Celebrate the highlights, but remember that the interstices are part of the sum and should be savored too.

    • The Game

      I play this game of productivity each morning that I’m home, taking habits I’ve looped together and creating progress metrics within them. First I set the kettle filled with cold water, then drink a pint of water while reading. I try to get at least five pages of meaningful reading done before the kettle whistles. Sometimes it’s only three pages, depending on the conspiracy between the depth of reading and the volume of water being heated. But the goal remains five pages, conspiracies be damned. I could max out the font on my Kindle app to even the playing field, but really, who am I cheating but myself?

      Once my coffee is made, I write. My goal is to write 150 words before the coffee cools enough to sip, and then finish this morning’s post before I finish the cup. Sometimes the game is easy, sometimes I fail miserably, but I’m always more productive than I otherwise might have been. Such is the nature of habit loops, pulling us moment by moment in the direction we’ve set for ourselves.

      What’s missing in this morning routine is movement. And I’m well aware of the omission. Burpees created shoulder problems, rowing for me is best done in the afternoon, and long walks aren’t possible in the frenzy of a workday morning. But not all habits need to be lumped into the same loop, and I’ve shifted movement to the late afternoon or early evening, when I need it most. It’s become a defined break between work and personal time. Often I’ll add a game or two of chess here, and read a few more pages. If I haven’t done it already, I’ll also chip away at Duolingo tackling French. This used to be a morning activity but I’d get too restless after reading and writing to lump a session with French in, so I’ve taken to doing it in the evenings, instead of watching television. I’ll combine some reading here after Duolingo. Sometimes television wins the hour but I’ve kept the Duolingo streak alive all year.

      And that brings me to the last game of the day; reading before sleep takes over. Unlike the morning reading session I’m usually tapped out by late evening. Reading in bed instead of checking Twitter or the news is a way to end on a positive note, but I know I’m good for maybe five pages at most before I’m tapped out. The game is to try, and usually I get two or three pages in before I nod off. Game over, but another day ahead of where I was yesterday. That’s a win, isn’t it?

    • The Dangerously Distracted Among Us

      It’s happened a few times now.  I’ll be driving along and notice the erratic driving of a certain driver ahead of me.  Speed varying from well below the speed limit to well above.  Drifting from side to side in their lane, or well out into the oncoming traffic lane.  It’s clear that this driver is staring at their phone intently, completing some text or email, or maybe watching Netflix for all I know.  All I know is they’re a hazard to all around them. What’s scary is that I’ve been behind this car a few times, or worse,  I’ve been coming the opposite direction and see him straddling both lanes on the street and swerving back to his lane abruptly.  The sad part?  I know this guy.  He’s my next door neighbor.

      This guy is a divorced home siding salesman for a large box store.  He lives in a pretty large home with two cars permanently parked in the driveway.  He has no children, no pets, and is rarely home.  The house sits empty for weeks at a time, and then he’ll just show up again for some period of time.  He’s the kind of neighbor who blows the snow from his driveway onto the street, expecting the town to clear it away.  He does the same thing with lawn clippings in the summertime, which he mows infrequently enough that it’s a green mess in the street.  He’s not the sharpest tack in the drawer, so nobody believes he’s being antagonistic to his neighbors, he’s simply ignorant.  I don’t believe he’s a serial killer, but he is definitely a serially distracted driver.  And I wonder when he’s going to run over a jogger or drive head-on into an oncoming car.  He’s a ticking time bomb in this way.

      We live in a world full of highly distracted people.  Thankfully most aren’t as dangerous as this guy is.  I was at a basketball game last night and looked around during a timeout at 75% of the people staring at their phones.  There are legitimate reasons to check your phones – checking on the kids, looking at the standings and scores of rival teams playing a game or the statistics for the game your watching.  I get that, and I do the same thing.  But I’m doing my best to limit the screen time.  And I’ve made it a rule to not be like my neighbor, driving like an idiot, staring at nothing important on his phone while driving a killing machine at terminal velocity just looking for some kid on the side of the road.

      I once walked into a fire hydrant while reading the back cover of a book.  I’m not proud of it, but I laugh at myself sometimes thinking back on it.  It’s charmingly, stupidly analog to think about now, but I managed to do it.  Walking down the sidewalk and bang!  Shin, meet cast iron.  That hurt like hell for a few minutes but taught me a lesson.  Focus on where you’re going, not what you’re reading.  That certainly applies in the world of today.  I don’t find my neighbor’s texting and driving very funny at all, and I’ve thought about how to handle the situation.  He’s not a person I talk to often, even though he lives right next door to me.  Those interviews with the neighbors of the person who went postal?  Yeah, I can totally see myself being that guy talking about that other guy.  And my other neighbors would agree.

      I’d love to wrap this up with a bow, saying I spoke with this dude and he saw the error of his ways, apologized and changed on the spot.  But he’s not a guy you have a heart-to-heart conversation with.  He’s a bit of a moving target, pun not intended.  For now, I shake my head in disbelief and frustration whenever I see him driving.  And of course, give him a lot of space.  I’ve taught my kids that it’s not just that you’re distracted when you’re looking at your phone, it’s that when you aren’t paying attention you can’t avoid the other idiots on the road who are looking at theirs.  There’s no better example for them than the guy next door.