Alexandersmap

    Category: Lifestyle

    • The Cure for Writer’s Block

      A friend asked me whether I ever had writer’s block last week. I can’t say that I have. Words flow easily out of me, but as with everything there’s timing and ritual involved… and one more thing. It’s the same thing that taught me humility.  Consuming nutrient-rich brain food. No, I’m not referring to eating more salmon and blueberries (but those count too), but the acquisition of rich daily experience. You’ve got to get out and in the world.  And out doesn’t have to be too far out.  Don’t just sit there in front of a computer screen or blank page in a journal; go for a walk around the block, or better, take a walk through a cemetery and read the history engraved on the tombstones.  Or a walk alone on a beach at dawn.  Ideas come from moving out and experiencing what the world offers.  If you don’t reach out to greet them someone else will.

      Ernest Hemingway was famous for living as large as he wrote. Henry David Thoreau walked and observed the world around him constantly. Cheryl Strayed hiked the PCT and wrote Wild based on that experience. I’m not any of those writers, but I follow their example.

      Jump in the ocean or a quiet pond.  Feel the current flow through your fingers as you tread water.  Weed the garden.  I get more ideas deadheading the flowers than I ever get staring at a screen.  And the ace in my pocket: read more consistently.  I get more ideas from reading great books than from any other source.  Stoicism, history, biographies, and even fiction spark the imagination.

      When I don’t read I listen and observe.  Living by the ratio of Two ears, one mouth has served me well over the years.  Seek solitude and blessed quiet when possible. I found joy in the quiet room at the car dealership today simply by walking in and closing the door on the negative stream of news on the televisions blaring in the waiting rooms. Nothing nutritious in that space.

      Some people meditate.  I wish I could slow my mind down enough to meditate.  Instead, I meditate through tasks.  Pulling weeds, painting, washing dishes, making the bed or mopping the floor have all become sources of quiet for my mind, and a quiet mind has time to sort out the stories you want to tell the world.  Rowing on the erg serves me well for processing information, so long as the music isn’t blaring.

      Getting out and experiencing the world through travel opens up your mind.  Travel is like a butterfly net for catching ideas. The stories write themselves from that point on.  My visit to Fort Niagara last month gave me another dozen stories to tell about the people who fought to hold that strategic point of land, and those who fought to take it away.  I have stories tucked away in the back of my mind from visits to places far and wide, and from visits to the garden in the backyard.

      This morning I spent 15 minutes deadheading the pansies.  That’s an insane amount of time that I’ll never get back deadheading a pot of pansies.  And that’s true; but it’s not about the pansies.  Like the Japanese kare-sansui, the dry landscaping where the concept is zero equals abundance, deadheading pansies provides me with an abundance of exactly what I need in that moment.  I don’t rake rocks and sand to get in touch with my Zen, I pluck maple seedlings from potted plants and the garden. I live in New Hampshire next to woods actively trying to expand into the garden. Inspiration is where you find it..

    • Handy Work & Time Travel

      I’m refinishing the kitchen table, which has been well used and abused for twenty years as the family grew up eating around it, doing homework and art projects on it, serving as the “kids table” at many a Thanksgiving, and finally serving my wife and I in empty nesters, albeit with the leaf removed. But the surface had seen better days and for almost a year I kept meaning to get to refinishing it. And I finally have.

      It’s drying in the garage right now. Brush strokes still visible in the bright sunshine. I’ll close up the garage so it dries more slowly. It’s most likely another coat or two removed from being complete, but has already been transformed by the process. And so am I. Time disappears when I’m focused on a project like that. My day job no longer involves working with my hands, save for typing on the laptop. And I miss it… though I don’t ever realize that until I start the next one. Refinishing furniture, building the deck, painting, bathroom on the Cape, brick patio, building (and rebuilding again) the pergola, and countless other projects that bring me alive again time and again..

      Work has its moments, mind you. I serve the world in other ways. But the tactile experience of bringing a table back to life… its a different kind of reward. And so as much as I complain about home ownership it does give me a canvas to create a garden and a place of our own to do the work. And like the lilacs and day lilies and brick patio, the table could very well be another time machine to the future. I won’t go on forever – hopefully another healthy fifty years or so – but hey; the table might. You take on these projects and send them off to the future. Some may last, some won’t be around very long at all. But why dance with speculation? The table, and I, offer plenty to the present. At least after it dries.

    • Stoic Reminders

      Welcome to the second half of the year!  Is the year half full or half empty?  I’ll go with full…  While WordPress doesn’t recognize it, I’ve written every day this year and plan to continue doing so for as long as I’m able to.  I bounce around a lot with topics, but I write about what draws my attention, and believe in a healthy mix of diversity and eclectic chaos in my otherwise structured life.

      Forget everything else.  Keep hold of this alone and remember it.  Each of us lives only now, this brief instant.  The rest has been lived already, or is impossible to see.” – Marcus Aurelius

      The reminders are always there when you pay attention.  As a history buff reading some Scottish history in preparation for a fall trip I’m reading about people who have been dead for hundreds of years, but who’s lives resonate still today.  I write about dancing with ghosts, and I don’t mean the kind that haunt your house, but the kind that get into your mind.  I love to get to know the place where I am, and learn about the place I’m going to.  History tells one story, and the place itself tells another.  If you pay attention you see the old road that cuts through the forest, or an ancient stair tread that’s been worn down with thousands of footsteps over the years.  What an extraordinary thing that is – a stair tread that’s born the weight of people long departed from this world.  Their footstep, and mine today, each mark time as a drop of rain fills a pond.

      Lately I’ve been doing a lot of online research in preparation for a trip that happens in late October.  It’s funny how we get so excited about a trip four months away that we neglect the day at hand.  It’s okay to build plans, but there’s a lot of life to be lived until then.  The second half of the year has begun, and if it goes as quickly as the first half just went I’d best get moving for there’s no time to waste.

      “Let us prepare our minds as if we’d come to the very end of life.  Let us postpone nothing.  Let us balance life’s books each day…  The one who puts the finishing touches on their life each day is never short of time.” – Marcus Aurelius

      Thanks for the reminder Marcus…  and Ryan Holiday for the daily reminders.  The analogy of balancing life’s books every day is a good one.  We only have today, after all.  Tomorrow isn’t promised to us, but let’s plan (and hope) for a healthy, vibrant second half of the year anyway.

    • It’s Not a Miracle

      Entertaining guests yesterday I had the question and answer exchange every gardener has:

      Question: “What’s your secret for growing such a beautiful garden?”

      Answer: “Miracle Grow.”

      This of course is completely inaccurate. The real answer takes more time than a cocktail conversation allows.The person asking knows the answer as much as I do. Is Miracle Grow a good gardening hack?  You bet.  Does it accurately reflect what gets you to a beautiful garden.  Not at all.  But in the Q & A session at a party small talk should be kept small.  Follow-up questions indicate a real commitment to learning more than “use liquid fertilizer” and those who dive deeper are rewarded with deeper answers.  Which begins with “You grind away for years having success and epic failures, incremental improvements and adjustments along the way. You learn what works and keep doing that, learn what doesn’t and change how you do that.”  And if they want more then the details come along.  Gardening is a long climb towards a level of mastery that I’ll never reach. But I’m better for having made the climb than someone who hasn’t. At gardening anyway.

      Robert Greene writes brilliantly of mastery in his book of the same name. He describes the phase of developing skills that move you to mastery as the Ideal Apprenticeship. I know with conviction that I’m no master gardener; I’m somewhere in the next phase after apprenticeship, which Greene calls Creative-Active. With recreational gardening I’m not sure there’s a mastery stage in my future. I don’t aspire to be a horticulturist or botanist or landscape architect. Being a knowledgeable enthusiast is enough for me with gardening.

      And what of other interests? Career and family, of course, and the other pursuits of history, travel, writing and the like? Does being a generalist dilute each pursuit? No question. Does it mean pursuing more than one interest isn’t beneficial? That depends on what you think your best life should be. Personally I’ll take Jack-of-all-trades, thank you. But that doesn’t mean you can’t strive to be your best in each of those “trades”.

      We live in a time and place where pursuing fancies like an ornamental garden or casually researching the best London pub crawl route for an October visit while poolside on an iPhone (guilty) are available options. I’m well aware that the settler who first cleared and farmed the land I’m on never debated whether to move the dahlias from one side of the garden to the other to give the variegated impatiens room to grow. Mastery for that settler meant nurturing crops to a successful harvest, hunting or fishing for that night’s dinner, and generally staying alive in an unforgiving environment.  Mastery in recreational gardening isn’t a life or death matter for me. It’s like making your bed in the morning; It’s not going to change the world in any meaningful way, plenty of people get along just fine not doing it, but it elevates my day a notch higher for having done it well. And isn’t that enough?

    • Built for Celebration

      Build it and they will come.  And build it we have.  Our home is built for celebration – designed with hosting in mind.  And we’ve hosted since we first had a house on the other side of town.  Thanksgiving.  New Year’s Eve celebrations.  Super Bowl parties.  Pool parties.  Anniversary celebrations.  Birthday parties.  End-of-season sports parties.  And just plain parties.

      It starts with intent.  We built our current house twenty years ago knowing what worked and didn’t work from hosting Thanksgiving in our previous house.  Wide open floor plan is desirable, or as close as you can compromise on that with architectural and daily living considerations.  A wet bar was added in year 18.  Overdue I’d say.  And of course a bathroom on the first floor close but not too close to the action is required.

      The deck came first.  Expanded in 2004 to provide more outdoor living space.  Pergola above for some level of shade and aesthetics.  Rebuilt in 2018 when the carpenter ants laid the pergola to waste.  Some lessons learned, some ignored on that.  I’m just not a fan of pressure treated wood.

      Next came the brick patio.  Father’s Day 2005 – very hot, miserable day and I’m spreading crushed stone as a base for the brick that would come later.  The brick patio and curved walkway remains a favorite feature and serves to bridge the entire backyard when entertaining, gardening, or really anything we do in the backyard.  If I’d replace a hundred other things I’ve done over the last twenty years, I wouldn’t change that.

      Next came the pool and a poured stamped concrete deck.  I’ve come to appreciate it and resent it in waves of emotional ebbs and flows over the years.  But on the whole it’s been a nice addition to the yard.  When people tell you a pool is a money pit, they aren’t kidding.  But it’s also an nice way to pull your kids back in a bit when they’re younger, a nice reason to have a social gathering as they get older, and a nice way to spend a hot summer day in general.  As long as you remember the level of work it requires year-after-year, for three out of four seasons.

      The garden filled in the blanks.  It’s filled in my personal blanks for years, but it serves to soften the hardscape, brighten the landscape, spark conversation, and otherwise beautify the backyard.  The lawn is large enough, but not too large.  The woods snugs in just enough to provide shaded areas on hot days, and screens the houses beyond.  The woods on the whole have been a good neighbor, even if the pool doesn’t get along with them all that well.

      So today we host another party.  This theme is a bon voyage party.  The day started with rain and storms threaten to intrude again later in the day.  No matter; rain changes the equation but we’ve been here before.  Make the most of what the day brings you and don’t wish for things you can’t control.  So I’ve done what I can to bring in cushions, put up pop-up tents, weed the garden and spruce things up a bit.

      As with every party this one will go too fast, and become one more memory in a long string of great days spent living here.  But so goes life.  Build the life you want, pull in those who brighten your days on this earth and don’t invite those who ruin the party.  A party is more than a Great playlist, a cooler of ice and beer.  Ultimately you can’t have a party without great people in your life.  And if we’ve been lucky at all, it’s in finding the right people to bring sparkle and brightness to our lives.  So let’s celebrate!  And afterwards clean things up and reset for another day.

    • The Second Step is Easier

      “A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step” – Chinese Proverb

      The first burpee is the worst one. More specifically, the first push-up on the first burpee is the worst one. Sure, they don’t get more pleasant later in the set, but then it’s just fatigue. On the first one you have to clear the hurdle too.

      I do these burpees at 6:15 AM, when the tightness in my shoulders stubbornly refuses to go quietly. Warming up on the erg helps, and some dynamic stretching gets the blood flowing in the old joints, but that first one is always a bear. Just getting on with it, fingers pointing slightly inward to relieve stress points, I shoot my legs back into plank position and slowly descend into the push-up. Creaking old guy complaints ensue and then recede; I’m on my way.

      The starting is the hard part. Always. But once you get going it becomes a lot easier.  The habit loop makes it easier to get some exercise in the morning, get some reading in, and to do some writing.  This morning was particularly foggy and the brain wasn’t completely wrapped around things until I started those burpees.  They have a way of focusing you quickly…  once you begin.

      And beginning is the theme of this morning.  Get started already, do what you’ve got to do to move forward.  Burpees, writing, work tasks…  whatever.  Carpe Diem isn’t just a clever quote in Dead Poets Society.  It’s a call to action not a poster on the wall.  Seize the day already!

      “How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives. What we do with this hour, and that one, is what we are doing. A schedule defends from chaos and whim. It is a net for catching days. It is a scaffolding on which a worker can stand and labor with both hands at sections of time. A schedule is a mock-up of reason and order—willed, faked, and so brought into being; it is a peace and a haven set into the wreck of time; it is a lifeboat on which you find yourself, decades later, still living.” – Annie Dillard

      Dillard reminds us to structure our day to make the most of it.  And life is a series of days of course, though we don’t always see the forest for the trees…  I’ve been guilty of winging it over the years.  A scheduled day minimizes the downtime a restless mind carves out for you.  But not busywork; productive, planned tasks that move you forward.

      I’ve found the scheduled reading time immediately after exercise has been highly beneficial.  And starting with a little stoicism before reading whatever book I’m tackling is like finishing that first burpee – I’m focused and ready for what comes next.  The Daily Stoic is a good level set for me that I wish I’d discovered earlier in life.  Ryan Holiday boils down the wisdom of Marcus Aurelius, Epictetus, Seneca and other great Stoics into bite sized daily chunks.  I wish I’d thought to write this book, but since he did I’m thoroughly enjoying it.

      That habit loop got the heart rate up today, but also got the electrodes firing in the brain.  When the student is ready the teacher will appear….   and the messages keep piling up this morning.  James Clear Tweeted his own reminder to get on with it today:

      “Life is short.

      And if life is short, then moving quickly matters. Launch the product. Write the book. Ask the question. Take the chance.

      Be thoughtful, but get moving.”

      And on cue, Mookie starts whipping me with her tail as she murders the birds outside the window in her mind.  I haven’t done all the reading I wanted to do this morning, but I can’t ignore the messages.  Get to it.  I realized that I haven’t had a second cup of coffee this morning.  Somehow that fog I walked downstairs with has lifted without the need for much caffeine.  And the day is well underway now.  Best to focus on the next task at hand.

    • Finding the Essence

      I grew up following my grandfather around the garden. By all accounts he wasn’t a good husband or father to his 16 kids, and I’m told he was once a vicious drunk. But he was a good grandfather to me. Age likely tempered him as it does most of us, but I think it was largely because my memories of him were from that garden. With 16 kids you need to grow some of your own food, and he knew his way around the garden. He’d likely shake his head at my flower garden, wondering why I’d take up so much valuable land on ornamentals. But I’ve raised a more manageable number of kids, and there’s benefit to flowers that go beyond caloric intake.

      I think of myself as primarily a flower gardener, but taking stock I have a respectable number of herbs and edibles mixed in; basil, cilantro, oregano, lemon verbena, chives, monarda, dill, bell peppers, jalapeño peppers and four varieties of tomatoes. I also have two apple trees, blueberry bushes, a lime tree and coffee bush in pots… and those frustratingly unproductive grapes. This year I opted out of some other vegetables I’ve traditionally grown like nasturtium, sunflowers, string beans and squash because they simply overwhelmed the garden.

      The harvest is already coming in, particularly the herbs. The challenge now is to keep up with them. Which means expanding the menu. Growing a new herb or vegetable offers two unique experiences; figuring out how to optimize its growth and then what to do with it when its time to harvest. When I was in Israel the employee kitchen had bunches of freshly picked mint that people would plunk stem and all into their tea.  I’ve been growing mint for years but never thought to do that until they taught by example.  Now that the mint is exploding I’ve taken to drinking more tea with fresh mint and give a nod to my former co-workers for showing me the way.

      So consuming the edibles is one benefit, but the larger gift is in living amongst them day-to-day. Rub the leaves and smell the oil released on the fingertips. Flowering herbs like cilantro, chives and monarda (bee balm) are good for the local bee population, and good for me as I enjoy the show as they work their way around the garden. The garden becomes multidimensional. Good for the senses, good for the palette, good for the soul.

      I think my grandfather was essentially a good man, but he was caught up in the frustrating struggles of his life and alcohol poisoned his mind. The garden drew out his attributes, and I saw the good in him. I haven’t struggled with the demons he struggled with, but I know I’m better for having been in the garden. And so was he.

    • Tech Leaps and Twinkies

      Yesterday morning I caught myself in a moment unimaginable at any time in human history beyond the last generation or two. I sat parked in my car inside a touch less car wash. Realizing I had upwards of five minutes of downtime I pulled out my Surface Pro, logged onto my iPhone’s wireless hotspot, connected to the Salesforce CRM and modified a quote that I submitted before the car wash moved to the rinse stage. None of these things existed when I last ate a Twinkie, which was, by my best estimate, sometime around 1987 or so.

      Sometimes our collective massive leap forward seems commonplace.  People watching streaming movies or checking email on a plane flying from New York to Tel Aviv is a miracle, and yet we think nothing of it.  We live in a time where miracles happen all the time but we’re so focused on the latest outrage on Twitter that we don’t appreciate the phone we’re reading it on.

      I remember being wowed by Sony Walkmans, and Compact Disks, and Cell Phones, and Blueray, and HD, and Wi-Fi, and the Internet…  and so on.  The march ahead with technology in my lifetime has been stunning.  Moore’s Law may have predicted something like this on paper, but just look at what we’ve created in so short a time.  Amazing.

      The technological leap forward from here is even more striking.  Artificial Intelligence is coming fast.  Robotics, automation, sensor data correlation, facial recognition, self driving cars, unmanned aerial vehicles (UAV’s), Hyperloop vacuum tube travel, and 3D printing are already here in various stages of development or adoption.  We’re in an exponential technological revolution the likes of which has never been seen before.  Best to take a moment to appreciate the little miracles that happen all the time now.  Blink and you’ll miss it.

    • Elbow Room

      I’m not sure what my best life is, but I know that it doesn’t involve sitting in a car by myself stopped in relentless traffic.  But that’s where I found myself twice in the last 24 hours.  Friday getaway traffic in the rain was understandable.  Saturday logjam on two different highways was less expected.

      The older I get, the less I want to participate in the engineered world we’ve built around us in the United States.  I’m not particularly interested in sitting on a crowded beach, or going to the Esplanade on the 4th of July, or shopping on Black Friday, or commuting to anywhere on Route 128, or the Financial District, or really anywhere a lot of people are trying to congregate.  I don’t like traffic lights all that much, especially the ones that aren’t synced to have traffic flow logically.

      Crowded attractions aren’t my scene. Going to a Patriots game or a concert at Gillette Stadium is wonderful when you’re tailgating or in your seat watching the action.  Shuffling through security lines, lining up to go to the bathroom, shuffling back to your car to wait in traffic on Route 1?  I think not.  Irish Cottage on St. Patrick’s Day?  No Way.  Hampton Beach on a hot July Saturday?  Rain check.  Disney in peak summer crowds?  Been there, never doing it again.  Standing in line to get the best picture of St Mark’s Campanile in Venice?  No thanks.  Times Square?  I’ll walk three blocks around to avoid it.  Stand in a cue to summit Mount Everest?  You’ve got to be kidding me.  No, I’m an off-season kind of guy.  If I can’t get away with off-season, then you’ll find me up early before the crowds blow up your day.

      The planet is getting more crowded.  More people have disposable income that allows them to travel to the top sites in the world.  And I’ve got my own bucket list that includes some pretty popular places; Hawaii, London, Paris, Rome, and yes, Venice.  But I’ll find off-season if at all possible, thank you.  I’m not a hermit, I love a great conversation, a boisterous party, and the energy of a great concert.  But there’s no solitude in a line, and there’s great upside in a little elbow room.  So tell me how it goes at the opening weekend for the Encore Casino in Everett.  Expecting 50,000?  Lovely – I promise I won’t make it 50,001.  If there’s any upside to that, it’s that I’m giving someone else a little more elbow room at the slots.  You’re welcome.

       

       

    • The Daily Whip

      My morning begins with exercise, however modest, moves to daily stoic, then reading whatever book I happen to be tackling, and some writing if time allows before I plunge into the daily routine of work and life. I’ve continued this long enough that it’s become habit, and there are worse things than beginning the day this way. I won’t win the CrossFit Games or Jeopardy, but I’m further along than I’d otherwise be.

      A month after Bodhi passed, the muscle memory of my routine with him is fading. I don’t look out the window to see if he’s ready to come in, but he’s still lingering somewhere in my mind. But underfoot is a newer morning dance partner; Mookie joined us when the Red Sox we’re making their World Series championship run last fall. Once chipmunk size, she’s a lanky teenager now; full of energy, mischief and spirit.

      Make no mistake: I don’t generally bond with cats. I’m a dog person, and always have been. But Mookie got hold of me early on, and I find myself picking her up and petting her when I might have ignored another cat (as I do with the older cat). So here we are, sharing our morning together once again.

      It starts from the alarm going off, and she follows me from the closet, down the stairs and at my feet while I hydrate. When I’m done with exercise and sit down with my coffee and book she bounces back into my life and inevitably finds her way behind my right shoulder, surveying the action out the windows behind me. And that’s when it starts… the tail flicks once, wacks me in the cheek. A second time, swatting the top of my head. And then a steady beat of rhythmic whipping begins as her eyes flit from robin to chipmunk to a hummingbird working the honeysuckle. It feels like a fight scene from the old Batman TV show complete with kitschy Smack! Bang! Pow! thought bubbles.

      And I tolerate it. I’d never tolerate it from another cat. But I tolerate it from this one. This cat has worked her way into my routine. Strange days indeed.