Alexandersmap

    Category: Lifestyle

    • Facing Cliffs

      “If we listened to our intellect, we’d never have a love affair. We’d never have a friendship. We’d never go into business, because we’d be cynical. Well, that’s nonsense. You’ve got to jump off cliffs all the time and build your wings on the way down.”
      — Ray Bradbury

      We know when we are facing a cliff. And surely we know when we’ve fallen off the edge of one. Cliffs are big, life-changing moments. We know there’s no going back to the way things used to be. We simply have to navigate the cliff as best we can and try to survive the encounter. We know the alternative outcome is eternal.

      We face cliffs all the time. I’m currently watching a couple of people in my life dealing with the massive cliff of growing frail. They felt it was sudden, we saw it coming for years. We don’t always see the cliff we’re moving towards until there’s no getting around it. We reach a point of no return in life. Deal with the cliff.

      There’s another kind of cliff, isn’t there? It’s the cliff that we choose to leap off on our own. It’s quitting a job to chase a dream. It’s sailing off for unfamiliar waters. It’s doing something so audacious that all of our friends think we’re crazy, even as they quietly envy us for trying.

      Intellect has a way of holding us back. We think too much sometimes. Sure, it may keep us alive in times of trouble, but we ought to ask, are we really living? Or simply going through the motions until we reach some cliff we somehow never saw coming, despite all the signs?

      Developing the courage and strength to leap begins with smaller cliffs successfully navigated. Be bold more often, and see where it leads us. Ratchet up the size of the cliff and leap into a few chasms now and then, just to see how it goes. That’s not being ridiculous—keep the limbs, reputation and healthy marriage intact, but step beyond some of those expectations previously established for ourselves and see where it leads.

      The point is, the cliffs are coming for us one way or the other. Why not choose the cliffs we’d love to leap off, just to see how the view is? Maybe we’ll soar, or maybe we’ll crash to the bottom and have to climb back up again. At least we’ll have learned a thing or two about ourselves in the face of cliffs.

    • A Routine Discovery

      I do not miss most of the things about business travel, but I miss some things. Mostly, I miss discovery. I delighted in new—new historical sites to stumble upon, new restaurants, new people to talk to, new stories to discover. But I’ve learned that it wasn’t about new, it was about discovery. I still travel, just not with a day chock full of meetings to muck up my time to explore wherever I found myself.

      Last night I discovered a new way to make beef stew, a new sourdough boule to dip into it and a delightful new Grenache Syrah to pair with it. It turned an ordinary Monday evening meal into something more lovely. The company was quite lovely too. One doesn’t have to travel far to find something new, one simply has to be open to discovery.

      Last year I opted out of drinking alcohol a few months. That was its own discovery as I learned to move through days and weeks without so much as a sip. Mostly I learned that I didn’t miss it much when I opted out, I just shifted my attention to what was there to be discovered instead of the next bottle of wine or the latest IPA from the local brewer. One thing you discover is how much less you spend on the tab when you aren’t drinking. When I eventually went back to a glass of wine, I savored it without having craved it. A good sign I suppose.

      I’ve come to savor a cold glass of water for all that it offers. The body celebrates that cold glass of water far more than it does that glass of wine. The wine is for the soul, and ought to be consumed in an appropriate ratio. When ordering a drink, consider what experience am I trying to achieve with this order? We can discover a lot about ourselves in that moment.

      The key to any discovery is not just to being aware, but to turning away from our routine and beliefs that we may gain a new perspective. Sometimes that’s done far from home, but sometimes it’s simply in how we make dinner on a Monday night. Wherever we are, we ought to be fully there. So what will make today altogether unique from yesterday? That is today’s new mission, should we dare to be a little different.

    • Gathering Towards

      “Your soul is the priestess of memory, selecting, sifting, and ultimately gathering your vanishing days toward presence.”
      — John O’Donohue, Anam Cara: A Book of Celtic Wisdom

      If all that we’ve experienced has brought us to here and now, and we are the sum of each of these days, it follows that whatever days we have left ahead of us are destined to be gathered as well. So why not raise the bar with heightened experience, greater expectations of ourselves, and a healthier approach to living? Awareness is seeing all that is, but also all that could be.

      Thinking in possibilities is optimistic. It’s the dreamer within, imagining best possible outcomes. We all need to follow a dream, but we also need to root ourselves in reality. The better approach may be to also think in probabilities. Probabilities are calculated. They’re pragmatic. They’re based on facts. Now I know facts are funny things nowadays, but it turns out they still work in the real world of moving ourselves from here to there.

      To design a life, we ought to begin with the end in mind. Not the very end, but the desired outcome of this particular phase of our lives. We may think of our lives as a series of projects that we bring to conclusion. These projects define us and build our CV (Curriculum Vitae), qualifying us for even more ambitious projects. A career, a soul, our physical fitness, education and relationships with others and ourselves are built from all that we gather in each phase of our life. Drift too much in any one area and we see that area suffer.

      This is where awareness comes in handy. We learn to see the gaps forming in our lives, and to formulate plans to fill them. If one plan doesn’t work, try another, and another still. What is the probable outcome of establishing a better fitness and nutrition routine today and every day? What is the probable outcome of reading at least ten pages of a great book every day? What is the probable outcome of putting the damned phone down and being fully present with that person we’re talking to?

      We are each either climbing towards personal excellence (arete) or sliding away from it. Yes, we are the sum of our days, but that one step forward or those two steps back don’t define us, it’s simply where we are starting from as we begin our next day’s climb. Every act gathers us towards some outcome. What shall it be?

    • Still in the Game

      Isn’t it strange
      That princes and kings,
      And clowns that caper
      In sawdust rings,
      And common people
      Like you and me
      Are builders for eternity?

      Each is given a bag of tools,
      A shapeless mass,
      A book of rules;
      And each must make—
      Ere life is flown—
      A stumbling block
      Or a stepping stone.
      — R.L. Sharpe, A Bag of Tools

      This poem has been lingering in my life for decades. I don’t know when, really, for it sat quietly on the page of a book, corner folded over and book cover flap also marking the page, awaiting its time to be rediscovered. Welcome back.

      Life surely has flown. In fact it’s actively flying quite rapidly. And we are still in the game. We, with our bags of tools and our grand ideas taking shape, following the rules or breaking them. What matters in the end is how we use the time. Ben Franklin reminded us not to squander it, for it is the stuff of life. Has life been fully stuffed or are we feeling a little unfulfilled? What’s done is done, and what will be will be. Do something with what all that’s left.

      There are so many ways to stumble or to squander. Ah, but there remains so many ways to climb ahead to something greater for ourselves. We ought to rise to meet the moment, don’t you think? Surely, this time capsule of a poem, this gift from a forgotten day brought to the present and now shared with you, dear reader, offers some clue for what to do now. This is no time to clown around.

    • The Right Direction

      “A man’s rootage is more important than his leafage.” — Woodrow Wilson

      At some point in life that is hard to pinpoint, filling gaps became more important than reaching upward and outward. Is that a sign of wisdom, or a desire for it? Personally, there are still too many gaps to fill before I’d be considered wise. I should think being curious is enough at this stage of the game.

      Wisdom is not the same thing as being knowledgeable. I know many extremely intelligent people who have no common sense whatsoever. They’re charming and particularly useful on trivia night, but not people you’d seek counsel from if you needed advice on a career move or relationship. For that we seek those who have been there before and lived to tell the tale. And more, are willing to lend an ear or a shoulder as needed.

      How does wisdom develop? Not in leafage—forever blown about in the winds of change, fashion and trendiness. It takes roots to grow wisdom. Stillness of mind, steady in ritual, and deliberate with thought, reading and deeper conversation with those who have seen a few things themselves. The wise are continuously growing more deeply rooted and anchored in first principles.

      The thing is, the less one dwells on the leafage, the more one may look deeper within. This all leads us somewhere. We are all here to solve that greatest of questions, why are we here, in this place and time? It’s far less scary to stay above the surface on such things than it is to dig deeper. But isn’t that a shallow existence?

      So it is that this writer strives to go deeper still. That may make this blog more interesting or less so. But it remains a sincere quest for wisdom and insight. It’s no longer striving for success (whatever that is), it’s seeking deeper meaning. And that, friend, requires growth in the right direction.

    • Kindred Spirits

      Why worry
      There should be laughter after pain
      There should be sunshine after rain
      These things have always been the same
      So why worry now
      — Dire Straights, Why Worry

      I met a lovely woman maybe 30 years older than me. She is an ambassador for joyful living, shuffling along in an assisted living facility with her walker, getting her steps in, saying hello to everyone and talking with those who wish to linger in conversation. It turns out I like to linger in conversation myself, so we hit it off right away. The joyful know immediately when they’ve found someone like themselves.

      On each visit to see family I’ve seen her as well, and the connection grows. Each conversation with this new friend reveals something new. Moving in, she lost her husband almost immediately afterwards. She said that’s how it goes in a life. A couple of years later, the pain is still evident, but so is her presence. She’s living here and now, carrying what was and aware of what will be. The thing about joy is it’s always here, not some time behind or ahead of us. We just need to discover it.

      It has always been so, this ebb and flow. So don’t get too high, and don’t get too low. Living well means to be deliberate in our joyful pursuits and generous with sharing that joy with others. Sometimes a simple hello said the right way offers connection we never expected. We may never pass this way again, so why not take the opportunity to lift and reassure? For there is hope in this world, as long as we keep finding kindred spirits in all sorts of places.

    • Next Steps

      “Every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s end.” — Seneca (and also Semisonic, Closing Time)

      We often think of starting something new. Yet we’re reluctant to bring the party we’re currently at to an end. We get comfortable in places we ought to be more uncomfortable being. Comfort is a cage.

      It helps to ask ourselves, why am I doing this? If we like the answer, we ought to double down on action to make the most of our opportunity. If we don’t, we ought to leave the party and find someplace else to dance, while we can still dance. The only wrong answer is to plod along wishing for something else without doing a damned thing about it.

      Have you seen what time it is? This party won’t last forever, and neither will we. What is that new beginning—or to borrow from the business world, what does success look like? What is the first step towards that? Defining a series of next steps is the proper way to end any productive meeting. It applies equally well to each stage of our lives. Being a little uncomfortable with a plan is a sure sign that we’re on to something more interesting.

    • Flowing Towards the Next

      I would love to live
      like a river flows,
      carried by the surprise
      of its own unfolding.
      — John O’Donohue, Fluent

      This river is unfolding rapidly lately. We think of rivers as quietly predictable. We forget about the rapids and the plunges off of cliffs. Waterfalls are simply rivers with an abrupt change of state. And so it is that life can be exhilarating some days, and utterly exhausting other days. That’s life though, isn’t it? It will level out again one day. We learn to take it as it comes.

      To paraphrase my favorite Navy pilot, I have seen the future, and I don’t have to like it. But we can work to influence that which we can control. It’s our life, such that it is, and we are the only ones who will ever have the front row seat on this journey.

      A confession: I’ve quoted O’Donohue’s poem incorrectly. The original had capitalized the first letter of each line. My inclination to correct that is a weakness in my own way of thinking. He wrote what he wrote, and I ought to leave it well enough alone. So here you go:

      I would love to live
      Like a river flows,
      Carried by the surprise
      Of its own unfolding.

      It doesn’t matter how the poem was written. What mattered was the wisdom captured in a few words placed just so. We get so caught up in the trivial details that we drown ourselves instead of accepting everything as our unique, enthralling story. Here we are, moving through time from here to somewhere. We ought to look around and acknowledge what is.

      Still, those waterfalls. It’s not the fall that kills you, it’s the landing. We want to make a splash in our brief time before infinity, but it isn’t always what we expected it to be. It helps in such moments to remember the Serenity Prayer:

      God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.

      We learn that wisdom is only useful when it is acquired. We go through life stumbling across bits of wisdom along the way. It’s up to us whether we pick it up or leave it forgotten on the banks of missed opportunity. We are the sum of our parts, and in the end everything we accumulate will carry us somewhere, soon enough.

      Here’s the thing about that poem we might have missed as we (I) focused on the way it was written: O’Donohue wasn’t telling us to live as he lives, he was telling us he’d love to live thusly. We are all figuring it out, forever surprised by life in all its stillness and turbulent moments. Be here, now. That is flow, and it will carry us from this moment onwards towards the next.

    • To Do at Last

      I bless the night that nourished my heart
      To set the ghosts of longing free
      Into the flow and figure of dream
      That went to harvest from the dark
      Bread for the hunger no one sees.

      All that is eternal in me
      Welcome the wonder of this day,
      The field of brightness it creates
      Offering time for each thing
      To arise and illuminate.

      I place on the altar of dawn:
      The quiet loyalty of breath,
      The tent of thought where I shelter,
      Wave of desire I am shore to
      And all beauty drawn to the eye.

      May my mind come alive today
      To the invisible geography
      That invites me to new frontiers,
      To break the dead shell of yesterdays,
      To risk being disturbed and changed.

      May I have the courage today
      To live the life that I would love,
      To postpone my dream no longer
      But do at last what I came here for
      And waste my heart on fear no more.
      — John O’Donohue, A Morning Offering

      For Saint Patrick’s Day, a morning offering from a revered Irish writer. And what a poem it is! Go on and read it once again, I don’t mind at all. I’ve read it a few times more myself, considered what to go with and in the end quoted the poem in its entirety.

      Patrick chased the snakes out of Ireland. George Washington and Henry Knox chased the British out of Boston Harbor. We note the history of this day but ought to remember to make a little history ourselves. Forget drowning in pint or dram—find your stride today instead. A wee bit of poetry, a soundtrack of favorite Irish music, a brisk walk, and some writing of our own. Perhaps a splash of green to mark the occasion. The 17th of March is a day for action, not simply commemoration.

      The truth is, we get worn down by life and need to be provoked back on track. To break the dead shell of yesterdays and regain that courage to do at last what we came here for. There’s nothing to be done about all that’s happened before today, save to learn from it. Use this time to chase away our own snakes and move onward towards a brighter future. To welcome the wonder of this day by doing it justice.

    • Be Yourself

      “La plus grande chose du monde, c’est de savoir être à soi.(The greatest thing in the world is to know how to belong to oneself)” — Michel de Montaigne, Essays

      If I were to put a name on a boat (I have no boat), a strong candidate might be “Rester soi-même”, or “Be Yourself”. Then again, it would be hard to explain it to people over the VHF, it would be forever misspelled, and really, who am I to tell people following me to be themselves? So even before I’ve bought a boat I’ve changed the name. But it was great while it lasted.

      I talk a lot of boats. It would be great to have one again, better to actually use it to move from points known to points unknown, that they may become known too. The vagabond within nudges for action. The practical boy raised to be responsible and present in the lives of others resists. Which exactly is myself? Usually the one that dominates the conversation.

      The thing is, we get to reinvent ourselves all the time. Decide what to be and go be it. Life is long enough and all too brief, all at once. But only if we act when it’s time to act. Go forth and become what’s next for you. There will never be a better opportunity than now. Simply be yourself.