Alexandersmap

    Category: Lifestyle

    • A Quiet State of Being

      If I had another life
      I would want to spend it all on some
      unstinting happiness.

      I would be a fox, or a tree
      full of waving branches.
      I wouldn’t mind being a rose
      in a field full of roses.

      Fear has not yet occurred to them, nor ambition.
      Reason they have not yet thought of.
      Neither do they ask how long they must be roses, and then what.
      Or any foolish question.
      — Mary Oliver, Roses, Late Summer

      The heat of summer has propelled the growth of the Musa zebrina (blood banana) plants. Bananas have no business growing in Zone 5 New Hampshire, but they don’t follow the rules layed down by zones any more than I do. I’ve had these blood bananas for more than a decade. I bring them out after the danger of frost, patiently wait for signs of life, and watch them reach for the sky when the days grow long and hot. The season is too short for them to produce blossoms, but long enough for them to thrive in their time before I reluctantly drag them back to the cellar to winter over yet again.

      My bride and I were talking about everything that’s happened this summer, and everything that will happen if things go according to plan (we know how plans go, but we also know that some things never happen without a plan). Life is moving along thusly, and we are swept up in the current of being. We are where we are, doing what we believe we should be doing, one blessed day at a time. We may thrive in our time, or simply dance with the days as best we can while we have them. We determine what we can, and accept that whatever will be will be.

      So many people work so very hard to be happy. As if you could earn happiness by how much money you make or how many likes you have from your latest post on social media. Happiness is not an objective, it’s flows from us as a byproduct of purposeful, engaged living. Purposeful in turn is simply moving with awareness towards something. Those potted bananas are trapped in pots, reliant on my inclination to save them from dying of thirst or a killing frost. Yet they dance in the sun each summer day anyway. Are they happy? Or simply living a quiet state of being in the time that they are given?

    • Giving Attention

      “Time and attention are not something we can replenish. They are what our life is. When we offer our time and attention, we are not merely spending and paying. We are giving our lives.”
      — Robert Waldinger, The Good Life: Lessons from the World’s Longest Scientific Study of Happiness

      Many get it wrong when they think about making changes in their lives, believing they’re giving up something instead of the other side of that coin: choosing something better. Transformation begins with what we focus our attention on. Just imagine what we could do if we simply paid attention to the right things for a year, or a decade, or a lifetime? But that’s too broad a spectrum. Focus on today instead. Today will always be the day that requires our full attention.

      So what do we pay attention to? Inevitably, that’s where our time goes. Time in itself is a measure, but we can spend time without giving our full attention. Consider a casual restaurant on a busy night. How many scroll their phones while sitting at the dinner table? Are they giving attention to those they are dining with, or is it merely spending time together? When we pay attention to those we love, we are giving more than just our time, we are putting the rest of the universe on hold for the person in front of us. Isn’t that the ultimate gift?

      What gift are we giving ourselves today? What are we consuming that will make us better? Not just food, but information, and feedback from the network of people that surround us. What are we telling ourselves in these moments, or are we distracting ourselves to drown out that inner voice? Maybe we ought to pay more attention to that voice. Surely it has something it wants to tell us.

      Attention is a muscle that we may develop. It brings us to awareness, which is essential to our growth and development. This idea of personal excellence (arete) that I write about frequently in this blog is not some clever affirmation, it’s a daily ritual of discovery and reach. Decide what to be and go be it. What are we waiting for? More time? Our time is right now, waiting for us to finally pay attention and get to it already.

    • Story Weaving

      “To achieve great things, two things are needed: a plan and not quite enough time.” ― Leonard Bernstein

      The end of July regularly presents a staggeringly quick departure of the potential of summer. August brings us the dog days of summer, and for many, an early return to the structure of school or work. I used to believe that summer ended after the 4th of July. Nowadays I don’t worry as much about beginnings and endings of seasons, but note the changes nonetheless. We have the time we have. Use it or lose it. It’s the beginning of harvest time—but what have we sown?

      Summer changes by the day, and of course, so do we. Instead of regretting the passing of time, we ought to focus on what we’re doing with it now. We make our grand plans—how are those going? When is that novel coming out anyway? How about that fitness routine started and restarted again? Books read? Projects completed? The list goes on, but we know the score. Life has its say. It’s up to us to weave our story in and around all that happens along the way.

      Right on queue as I’m writing this, my phone is erupting with work messages pulling my attention away from completing this very blog post. It can be challenging to be mindful and creative when the world demands attention. Turning off the noise isn’t always possible when we live a full life, but we must train ourselves to block off time for the sacrosanct. To fritter and waste the time in an offhand way (thank you Pink Floyd) must be thought of as egregious. For we will never pass this way again (thank you Seals & Crofts).

      To live a creative, fulfilling life, we must find the time, even when there isn’t any time. Put down the phone, turn away from the noise, and focus on the inviolable core hiding behind that superfluous material that must be chiseled away to find (with a nod to Michelangelo). We have the time we have, we have our dreams we wish to pursue in that given time. It’s up to us to realize those dreams. It’s our mission if we choose to accept it (thank you… oh forget it). Just keep weaving, friend. For now is all we have.

    • The Best We Know

      Let dreamers dream what worlds they please
      Those edens can’t be found
      The sweetest flowers
      The fairest trees
      Are grown in solid ground
      We’re neither pure nor wise nor good
      We’ll do the best we know
      We’ll build our house and chop our wood
      And make our garden grow
      And make our garden grow
      — Leonard Bernstein, Make Our Garden Grow

      One of the many habits I’ve managed to keep going is to enter a daily line per day to log whatever it was that made the day unique in this string of days I’m blessed with in this mad sprint to infinity. We know the ending, we remember the highlight moments, but what of the everyday? What makes today, of all our days, special beyond ensuring that the string isn’t broken?

      Yesterday’s line per day entry filled the entire space. It will be a day I’ll remember for consequential events, but I shouldn’t let time rob me of the other moments wrapped around those events. Publishing a blog post, painting the pergola or evaluating the progress of the cucumber blossoms turning to fruit may not feel noteworthy, but they’re layers on our timeline just the same. Those layers are our life happening in real time—we ought to capture a few of them in words.

      We will remember these days for whatever we brought to them. So it follows that we should bring our very best even when we cannot control everything thrown at us by the universe. What do we want from this day? What will we give it in return? The best that we know is ours to offer. And usually, that’s enough.

    • The Path

      “You can figure this thing out. And your path is going to be different from my path… but there’s certain principles that you can apply to whatever your individual path [is]. And you can learn about the value of discipline and of personal autonomy and personal accountability and figure out how to get better. You’re going to have failures and they’re going to feel awful, they’re going to feel terrible, but they’re very valuable. And you can’t shy away from them because that’s where you learn how to get better. And then your feelings of success, don’t dwell on those either because it’s not about that. It’s really about this path. The path is what it’s all about. It’s really about learning how to live, and learning how to exist in a harmonious way with not just other people but also with yourself. And you have to have respect for yourself, and the only way you develop respect for yourself is you have to know what you’ve done. You have to know that you’ve worked really hard. That you’ve overcome things. And known that you’ve had these little mental battles, these bad ways of thinking, that you’ve turned around. And you realize that that’s possible. I did it before I’ll do it again.” — Joe Rogan, Episode 23352 – James Talarico

      I don’t listen to a lot of Joe Rogan podcasts, because I’ve unfairly thought of him as another bro perpetuating conspiracy theories. But he runs far deeper than that, beginning with a strong desire to listen and understand those that he has conversations with. This episode with James Talarico is a great example of that. But what really caught my attention was Rogan’s description of the path he’s been on, from martial arts to wealthy and influential podcaster. The path is the thing—the path has always been the thing. We just get so distracted by the noise of life that many of us neglect staying the course.

      The thing is, we’re all on a path of our making. That path may lead to the promised land or to our destruction, but it’s our path because we are the ones who are on it. Don’t like the path? Step off of it and take your first steps on another path. See where it leads and decide whether to stay on that one. Paths are simple (if not always easy)—it’s our busy and distracted mind that trips us up. Discipline, focus and an earnest desire to see the path through are what keep us on the path. That’s a life leading towards arete: personal excellence. May we all get closer to our version of it this day.

      I’m on my current path just a little while longer. For 52 days I’ve been focused on better health and fitness, learning and practicing a higher level of discipline and mental toughness. I’ve learned a lot in these 52 days, but mostly I’ve learned to simply stay on the path and do what I promised myself I’d do. Next month I may stay on this path or climb up to something even more challenging, but I know that this path is leading me to that one. Sticking to a path always leads us somewhere. Why not make it somewhere better than where we’ve been?

    • Perfectly Reasonable Reasons

      “Listen, are you breathing just a little, and calling it a life?” — Mary Oliver

      It’s always the poets and the artists who draw our attention away from the straight and narrow path. And if we ever need a poem to call us out and force us to reassess what we’re focused on, reading Mary Oliver’s Have You Ever Tried to Enter the Long Black Branches in the quiet time before the world awakens to demand we fall in line will do the trick. We listen at our peril, for to do so is to shatter the illusion that this life we’ve wrapped around ourselves in this protective shell is enough.

      How long will you continue to listen to those dark shouters, caution and prudence?
      Fall in! Fall in!

      What are we doing with our time? Have we noticed, even as we’ve entered the height of summer, that the days are growing shorter? We must venture to the tingly work now. What is bold and a little scary? What are we truly working on but clever excuses and perfectly reasonable reasons for not leaping? Do we really believe the audacious life will sit in the corner awaiting our approval?

      What do we see? What do we seek? Go to it. For our time grows ever shorter. May this day leave us breathless with wonder at what we’ve done with the time.

    • Vigorous Pursuits

      “I can be changed by what happens to me. But I refuse to be reduced by it.” ― Maya Angelou

      There is a restlessness within. Perhaps you feel it too. It expresses itself in the usual ways of nervous energy or complaints about things out of my control. The world is changing as we are changing. Those things we cannot control still pester and prod, just looking for a reaction. The world has always been cruel and cavalier, and life has always been unfair. Our reaction to these things is natural, but let it also be productive.

      Sometimes in a storm all someone needs is the steady calmness of an ally who stands with them, and may show the way for those who are lost. We are all lost now and then. Yet we find our way. When so much in our world feels reduced, we may still advance and grow. We must embrace productive utility over helplessness and despair. We must turn away from the madness, carry the sadness, and use our restless energy for vigorous pursuits.

      To be vigorous is to be purposeful with our applied energy and attention. Ah, but what is purposeful? Knowing what our target is and taking action to reach it. What version of ourselves is way out of reach but worthy of the climb? What version of the world do we want to live in? How might we get one step closer to these worthy aspirations today? We mustn’t dare waste these few hours, for our time is short. We only have this day to make a meaningful stride forward, despite all that would get in our way. Don’t settle in the abyss! Get going already.

    • Just Like a Bridge

      “Every man is a bridge, spanning the legacy he inherited and the legacy he passes on.” — Terrence Real

      My father is still with us as I write this. His body is fighting his failing mind and currently winning the battle. But we all know the score. He’s not long for this world.

      He was one of sixteen kids. It’s easy to get lost in that number of humans moving from adolescents through puberty and into adulthood living under one roof. Most of them stayed in close proximity to one another, a few moved far away just to have some elbow room where they could learn to fly on their own. They’ve stayed tight, perhaps because they realized just how special their family was, or maybe just because they found they liked each other’s company. They’re an easy bunch to grow fond of. Watching them gradually pass on has been a lesson all its own. And now it’s dad’s turn.

      I was one of four when our parents split up and found their way to other people. Both of them found their (rest-of) life partners immediately after that. Maybe that was luck, or a stubborn commitment to make their next relationship work… or both. I know I’ve learned from both of them and the life partners they chose afterwards. Each of them did the best they could. It’s up to those of us who follow in their footsteps to step off of that bridge and make one of our own.

      We are each the product of the people who raised us blended with the people who surrounded us as we grew up. That person we became inherited some baggage we may carry forever or leave on the curb as we work to change our identity. The trick is to carry the best of us while exchanging our worst traits, habits and beliefs for better ones. We are all works in progress.

      Somehow, in that blend of parental influences combined with a hoard of uncles, aunts and cousins, then blending in new siblings and step-siblings, we must decide who we will be and go be it. So much kin—how do we possibly carve out an identity of our own? Just who will we become when we are wrapped up in so much inherited identity?

      I can see that I developed into a George Bailey-type character (from It’s a Wonderful Life), with a tendency to stick around even as I want to fly. A gift of presence and dependability anchoring the drifters in our lives. Whatever it is, I watch that movie with the same frustrations George Bailey has, and the same realization that what I’m anchoring was worthy of the tradeoff. We know that a good bridge needs to be anchored in something solid on both ends. As with my father in his final days, I’m still holding on, and the story hasn’t ended just yet. It seems that I’m just like a bridge after all.

    • So Is Life

      “As is a tale, so is life: not how long it is, but how good it is, is what matters.” ― Seneca

      The neighbors must think I’m crazy at this point. Walking all the time, sometimes with the pup, but sometimes without. Rain or shine, extreme heat or biting cold. I don’t care if they think I’m crazy. They’ve known me long enough to have formed opinions I can’t possibly sway one way or the other. What matters is the walk, what matters is doing what I said I’d do.

      I tried writing later in the day. I keep returning to the morning, so long as I’m not rushing off to catch a flight or some such thing. When something works extremely well for you, why change it? Surely we must test our theories, beliefs and assumptions, but having done so, we can safely stick with the things that move us in the direction we wish to go in. The writing habit is fully embedded in my identity now. The question now is where to take it next?

      As is a tale, so is life… What kind of creative storytelling are we doing with our lives? We forget sometimes that we are the authors of our days while we’re so busy reacting to the world and our place in it. We must remember our agency. We must remember our lives are an expression of growth and creativity born out of time well spent.

      Seneca also said that life, if well lived, is long enough. But what is well lived? That’s different for each of us, but I think it begins with growing closer to the personal excellence we aspire to. A bit of exercise, a bit of creative work, time with friends and family, and the pursuit of a larger life than the one we started today with seems the path to health, wealth and happiness. Those three pillars may or may not be in the cards for us, but they’re more likely to be a part of our lives if we apply ourselves to constant and never-ending improvement.

      When is enough enough? When do we stop working to grow and begin to simply enjoy what we’ve got? The question itself is a test of philosophy. Would we stop reading books because we finished a great novel? Would we stop writing because we reached some milestone, be it number of blog posts or publishing that book that’s been forever haunting us? The question is flawed, for it infers that we may be more content settling into satisfaction and rest. But isn’t stasis decline when viewed against the progression of life?

      How good a life we have is measured by more than how happy we are, it’s measured by how big a ripple we might leave one day. It’s measured by the love reflected back at us by people we care to move through this one precious life with. It’s measured by how long our health span is, and what we do with that healthy time. We will all be dust one day, but not just yet—so what matters greatly to us this day? We must be earnest in our pursuit of it, for there lies our evasive personal excellence. Look at how far we’ve come. Is this not good? Our tale grows more compelling by the day.

    • A Rich Life

      “We do not remember days, we remember moments. The richness of life lies in memories we have forgotten.” — Cesare Pavese

      I went out for a ride yesterday, cycling the streets in this small town I’ve lived in for so many of my days. It was the first ride of the season for me—admittedly very late to be back at it again, but we get pulled in so many directions, and cycling is only convenient when we’ve got everything ready to roll (including our mind). As with any habit, we make it easy and we’re more likely to do it. We make it hard and it never happens.

      I’m a kid again on a bike, and sometimes I forget to be a kid. A quick ten miles just to blow the rust off a bit and remind myself that I can do this more frequently if I would only put aside the excuses and just go do it. The ride was a rolling reminder of how much I love to ride a bicycle, of how many hills there are in this small town, and a series of flashbacks to who I was at different moments moving through these streets. The days are all a blur, it’s truly the moments that stand out.

      Knowing this, we must aim for the memorable in our days. Moments of clarity, moments of exuberance. What in this routine day will be the thing we will most remember one day when all the rest of it fades away? Break out the highlighter! Dare to be bold, or watch it blur into the obscurity of a life cautiously lived one day at a time. Rise each new morning with insatiable curiosity, wondering, what will we remember of this day? And then being that person that does those things. That’s how to live a rich life. That’s how to make this journey a hell of a ride.