Alexandersmap

    Category: Lifestyle

    • Changing the Perspective

      There’s no place like home, but there’s a lot to be said for changing the view once in awhile. So we picked up and relocated to the Cape for one night in the middle of a work week. I’m back to work today, but with a refreshed mind. We settle into a pattern of familiarity when we do the same thing day-after-day. Routine is powerful, and can be hugely beneficial in earning compound interest over time from daily, positive habits. But sometimes the plaque buildup on our minds needs a cleansing to create new perspective on a project or problem you might be tackling. Nothing changes perspective like a system re-boot like a vacation or a sabbatical.  But those opportunities aren’t always there. Changing scenery does the trick most of the time, even when you can’t take extended time off.

      This morning I’m back to work, but the view out the window has improved, and a quick early morning walk on the beach offered its own rewards. I noticed a burst of energy in my work tasks, and I’ve seen the fog burn off, not just on the bay but in myself as well. I re-read a bit of Atomic Habits this morning as well. Something kept bringing me to this graph that illustrates the conflict between expectations and reality. James Clear calls it the “Valley of Disappointment”. Seth Godin calls it “The Dip”.  It’s the lagging measure of results to actions you’ve taken.  Whenever I start a new sales job I try to gauge the amount of runway I have available to take off.  If you aren’t selling the trendiest stuff out there at commodity prices then you need time to build demand for your product, build a channel, get it specified, wait out budget cycles and finally get it purchased for installation.

      Valleys of disappointment happen, but it’s important to see the forest for the trees.  Perspective is invaluable when you’re in the valley, and just as important when you’ve climbed out of the valley.  A little change of scenery almost always does the trick.  Sometimes that scenery is physical like the beach, sometimes it’s mental, like looking ahead instead of looking back.  Jon Acuff wrote in a recent newsletter about the ten year question.  In short, what will you look back on ten years from now and wish you’d done today?  That is what you should do.  Acuff flips the narrative from looking back with regret to fast forwarding to a future you, and looking back from there.  Fascinating exercise, and a good way to give you perspective on what is important now. So I tackled the day with new energy, new perspective and a new focus, and that was the goal all along.

       

       

    • Salty Swims

      Tonight I went for an evening swim in the bay. It occurred to me that I was way overdue for it. I prefer swimming in the ocean over ponds, pools, rivers and streams. I’ve swum in ’em all, and enjoy most every one of them. But let’s face it; Salt water is better than fresh water. Unless you need a drink anyway. But I’m talking about swimming, so don’t go throwing hydration at me. With swimming nothing beats the ocean. The buoyancy is better, and the salt is better for your skin. Don’t tell me about sharks. I’ll take sharks over alligators. At least with a shark they’ll spit you back out most of the time.

      When you jump in the ocean you become a part of the ocean, which makes you a part of all of the oceans, which makes you a part of the world. You just don’t get that kind of a connection in a pool, no matter how big it is. I’m not really sure if people living in the middle of the country understand the draw of surf, sand and the taste of salt on your tongue. But once you’ve tasted it why would you ever leave?

    • No World for the Penitent and Regretful

      When I was in college we used to hang out at The Old Worthen in Lowell, drinking pitchers of cheap beer and playing tunes on the juke box.  Inevitably we’d play My Way by Frank Sinatra (written by Paul Anka) and sing the lyrics together in the most world-weary, seasoned way you can muster up when you’re only 21 or so and haven’t been knocked down a few times.

      “Regrets, I’ve had a few
      But then again, too few to mention
      I did what I had to do
      And saw it through without exemption”

      Regrets come with living life.  You make trade-offs along the way, like getting married and raising children instead of crewing on some sailboat in the Greek Isles with nothing but a copy of The Odyssey with you.  I may have thought of doing that once or twice around the time I was singing that song in that bar, and I’d blame it on the ghost of Jack Kerouac whispering in my ear.  On the whole I’ll take the trade-off and don’t look back, unless prompted to.  This morning I was prompted when two quotes in succession resonated for me.  First up was a Joan Didion quote pulled from today’s entry in The Daily Stoic.  Inspired, I drew more of it from a Brain Pickings blog after a quick search and offer some of it here:

      “The dismal fact is that self-respect has nothing to do with the approval of others — who are, after all, deceived easily enough; has nothing to do with reputation, which, as Rhett Butler told Scarlett O’Hara, is something people with courage can do without…  To do without self-respect, on the other hand, is to be an unwilling audience of one to an interminable documentary that deals with one’s failings, both real and imagined, with fresh footage spliced in for every screening. There’s the glass you broke in anger, there’s the hurt on X’s face; watch now, this next scene, the night Y came back from Houston, see how you muff this one. To live without self-respect is to lie awake some night, beyond the reach of warm milk, the Phenobarbital, and the sleeping hand on the coverlet, counting up the sins of commissions and omission, the trusts betrayed, the promises subtly broken, the gifts irrevocably wasted through sloth or cowardice, or carelessness. However long we postpone it, we eventually lie down alone in that notoriously uncomfortable bed, the one we make ourselves. Whether or not we sleep in it depends, of course, on whether or not we respect ourselves…  Character – the willingness to accept responsibility for one’s own life – is the source from which self-respect springs.” – Joan Didion, Slouching Towards Bethlehem: Essays

      What jolted me was in Didion’s writing, besides the sheer brilliance of her prose, were two phrases in particular: counting up the sins of commissions and omission…  and …the gifts irrevocably wasted through sloth or cowardice, or carelessness.  Who of us, who’s lived a life of any tenure, not counted up the things we’ve done that we’d rather not have done, the things we didn’t do that we wish we had, and regret not taking the leap into some adventure out of laziness or fear?  The older I get the more I say to myself and anyone who asks, just do it.  If you aren’t betraying trust, breaking promises, or taking foolhardy risks, then just do it.  Live with self-respect, do the right thing, accept responsibility for [your] own life.

      And then minutes later I stumbled on this Thoreau quote, a portion of which I’d once posted in an old social media post from years ago, where he (not surprisingly) reminds himself similarly:

      “There is a season for everything, and we do not notice a given phenomenon except at that season, if, indeed, it can be called the same phenomenon at any other season. There is a time to watch the ripples on Ripple Lake, to look for arrowheads, to study the rocks and lichens, a time to walk on sandy deserts; and the observer of nature must improve these seasons as much as the farmer his. So boys fly kites and play ball or hawkie at particular times all over the State. A wise man will know what game to play to-day, and play it. We must not be governed by rigid rules, as by the almanac, but let the season rule us. The moods and thoughts of man are revolving just as steadily and incessantly as nature’s. Nothing must be postponed. Take time by the forelock. Now or never! You must live in the present, launch yourself on every wave, find your eternity in each moment. Fools stand on their island opportunities and look toward another land. There is no other land; there is no other life but this, or the like of this. Where the good husbandman is, there is the good soil. Take any other course, and life will be a succession of regrets. Let us see vessels sailing prosperously before the wind, and not simply stranded barks. There is no world for the penitent and regretful.” – Henry David Thoreau, from his journal on April 24, 1859

      “You could leave life right now. Let that determine what you do and say and think.” – Marcus Aurelius

      Thoreau wrote that 160 years ago as a reminder to himself, just as Marcus Aurelius wrote his own reminder in Meditations. Didion weighs in with her own message.  By all means, live with character and self-respect, but do make the most of this opportunity you’ve been given. Living in the past is useless.  Living in the future is delusional.  There’s only now.  Today.

    • Doing What You Have to Do

      “First say to yourself what you would be; and then do what you have to do.” – Epictetus

      If New Year’s Day serves as the traditional launch point for goals and objectives, the 4th of July holiday (in the United States) serves as the midway point for the year.  The first two quarters are over, it’s time to reflect on what worked and what didn’t and apply it to the two quarters to come.  This applies in your career, but also with personal objectives.  This is also a time to assess what you’d like to become in the second half of the year and build towards it.  So with that in mind, I’m certainly reviewing and revising my business plan for 2019, and I’m doing the same with my personal plan.  They’re intertwined and should be scrutinized with equal measure.

      If there’s one theme constant across business and personal goals, it’s that I need to do more of the “good” things and less of the “bad” things.  Schedule more productive meetings and less unproductive meetings.  More exercise and less junk food.  More thoughtful discussion with key decision-makers, less checking the box with people who pay you lip service and never commit to buy.

      So the rowing and the 10 burpees per day are great, but increasing total meters rowed and incrementally moving the burpees up to 12 would be better so long as the shoulder pain is in check.  The shoulder injury occurred last fall when I pushed the daily total to 50 per day and ignored the objections my body was broadcasting clearly. So increase, but in manageable increments. Likewise, Increasing the number of productive face-to-face meetings is surely beneficial, and revising the target upward at the halfway mark is a good idea so long as it doesn’t dilute the quality of the meetings or ultimately the output in monthly sales revenue. Being the busiest isn’t a sign of most productive. In fact the two rarely seem to go hand and hand. Busywork can plug up the day but ultimately doesn’t get you anywhere. Someone I once worked with used the term “high gain activity” to describe the type of productive work that advances you towards your objectives, and I’ve adopted that phrase into my own vocabulary. Focusing on high gain activity means you aren’t hiding in your work, you’re maximizing your productivity through action.

      Productivity starts with knowing what you’re advancing towards, or as Epictetus said, knowing what you would be.  Sometimes that’s simple.  I would be better off healthier and twenty pounds lighter than I currently am, so that drives behavior like daily exercise and eating in moderation.  I could use more of each.  But larger goals require some deep thought and self-knowledge.  I would be better off long term in my career if I developed a more strategic and productive channel, met with more and better qualified clients and prospects and if I measure the results.

      “If you can’t measure it, you can’t improve it.” – Peter Drucker

      Tracking the key activities is essential to accomplishing the big things.  What gets tracked gets done.  Which means breaking down big goals into daily habits, which are tasks done automatically and repeated day-to-day.  Epictetus would say do what you have to do, Bill Bellichick would say “Do your job.” and Peter Drucker would say “Do you duty”.

      “Our duty is rarely easy, but it is important.  It’s also usually the harder choice.  But we must do it.” – Ryan Holiday

    • 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.