Alexandersmap

    Category: Lifestyle

    • More and Less

      “By doing less, you might accomplish more.” — Simon Sinek

      Not that long ago, I decided I hadn’t read enough books this year. It wasn’t a matter of not reading, it’s just that the books I was reading were pretty weighty affairs that took a lot to get through. Serious books, if you will. I still have some of those serious books awaiting my attention, but I’ve mixed in some more fiction recently to make reading more enjoyable again. Reading isn’t a chore, after all, it’s a privilege available to all of us who follow the light.

      We measure our lives through the lens of more and less. I’ve been reading plenty, but not plenty of books. A shift to more pleasurable reading is meant to kindle the fire, if one needs intention at all, but it’s also more fun than slogging through more academic reads. We only have so many hours in the day for someone’s thesis. We must enjoy the pages as we must enjoy our days.

      We can’t expect more than the 24 hours in the day, but we can use those 24 hours better with less: Less distraction, less overindulgence in habits that slow our body and mind, less of the habits we’ve carved out time for that aren’t offering the return on investment we once thought they would. Our reward is more: more productive creativity in our chosen path, more engagement with people who matter most, more energy to tackle the bold pursuits we aspire to add to our days.

      We’re running out of days in the year. It’s a wonder how time flies so quickly. Tempus fugit. We don’t know how many more days we’ll have, just that it’s less than what we had yesterday. Given that, we ought to take seriously these questions of more and less, and work to optimize our time, well, more.

    • Life, On Schedule

      “The key is not to prioritize what’s on your schedule, but to schedule your priorities.” — Stephen Covey

      It’s well-documented in this blog that I’m a morning person. My bride is just the opposite—a night owl who seems to charge along right to the end of the day. I wake up in the morning and she’s done a whole project while I slept. I try to keep pace and have my own projects done when she wakes up. Teamwork makes the dream work, as the silly saying goes.

      Whatever our productivity tools, we must embrace them to do the things we wish to do in a day so often filled with stolen hours. For my bride, a traditional Franklin Covey planner seems to do the trick. For me, the free flow of a bullet journal sets my days straight. Whatever the methodology, a system of scheduling and honoring our priorities each day keeps us on track.

      The thing is, the use of a planner or bullet journal is itself a system. My utilization of the bullet journal slipped away when I went on a long vacation in April and never really got back on track until I changed jobs. I maintained some positive habits during that time, but also some bad habits. For me, returning in earnest to the bullet journal coincides with a refocus on positive change.

      The last few weeks I’ve reset my compass, and with that reset, I’m shedding some habits that were stale for me in favor of habits that will hopefully help me arrive at those new goals. Once those goals are established, a routine must be identified to carry us to them. This is best exemplified by daily habits that are either done automatically or reinforced through a scheduled event. I use the bullet journal to check the desired behavior off once completed, and track it in a habit tracker in the same journal.

      Why all this talk of schedules and routines? Because it leads to a larger life. We can be generally happy with who and where we are and still aspire to grow closer to our version of personal excellence (arete). We can’t get to arete by winging it, we’ve got to build purpose and direction into our days, no matter where we are on our journey. In this way, routine leads to excellence, so long as the routine is scheduled.

    • The Gap Between Tolls

      I was thinking about the old expression,“If you get onto the wrong train, be sure to get off at the first stop. The longer you stay on, the more expensive the return trip will be.” The source is a bit sketchy, as so many great quotes are. Most likely it’s been refined by time and many iterations, in much the way that we are. Anyway, the quote: It came to mind while I’ve been navigating this particularly eventful year. And as you might have guessed by the position of said quote at the beginning of this blog post, it prompts a story.

      Scrolling through LinkedIn to see what my network was up to, I came across a person I’d managed once upon a time. He’s a C-level executive now, on the board of a few companies, a real model of success in the world of corporate ladders and hustle. I wondered at the journey he’s had in the gap between when I last saw him at my going away party and now. He got exactly what he wanted back then, and I wondered at the price he paid for it. For every journey has a toll.

      The thing is, I can quietly celebrate his accomplishment without any bitterness at having not arrived at the same place myself. That going away party was my first step away from corporate ladders and hustle. My own journey carried me to the sidelines of high school basketball gyms and track meets and dance recital venues. When I traveled for work, my free time didn’t take me into bars or golf courses, but on side trips to waterfalls and old battlegrounds quietly awaiting a moment with someone who remembered the toll paid by the participants back in their time. There are plenty who would point out that my focus on family and micro adventures demonstrated a lack of hustle for business success. Delightfully guilty, thank you. I was never one to pay the toll of a C-level executive, and yet I haven’t taken a vow of poverty either.

      Our journey to personal excellence is ours alone. We know that comparison is the death of joy, yet so many look at where someone else has arrived at without considering the toll they paid to get there. The gap between the toll he paid to reach the C-suite and I paid to be present with my own priorities is profound. I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. I wonder if he still feels the same?

    • Different Things

      “The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results” — Attributed to Albert Einstein (but probably someone else lost to history)

      Habits have gotten us this far. Writing every day, for me best exemplified by this humble little blog, has expanded my experiences in the world as I sought out interesting things to write about. Reading every day pays dividends in creative thinking, a more expansive vocabulary and generally helps on trivia nights. These are habits that have brought me here, for all that here represents, and I’m grateful for having done them.

      And yet, some habits hold us back. I developed a routine during the pandemic of sitting at the home office desk and largely working from my desk. I bought a cool and comfortable chair. I bought a sit/stand desk that the cool chair neatly rolls under. I’ve gotten very comfortable in this space. Too comfortable. That routine no longer works in a world that wants engagement, and I force myself out into the world more often.

      If we want different outcomes, we’ve got to do different things. And so we must find new positive habits, systems and routines to replace the old ones. To try to stay the same represents stasis and our eventual decline. That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t keep reading and writing and working out, but it does mean we ought to question why we do things a certain way and look for ways to improve.

      I made a decision this week to stop doing Duolingo, the language learning app that has been a part of my routine for 5-6 years now. It’s become an obligation to keep a streak of days going, but I’m not serious enough about it to actually reach proficiency in the languages I’m trying to learn while using it. Plus they keep ruining the experience by making it more of a game to lure more young users in. More power to them, but it doesn’t resonate with me anymore. And so it joins other apps that seemed productive once and now ring hollow. Au revoir Duo.

      The thing is, that’s not the only part of my daily routine that I’m questioning. I’m ready to turn it all upside down and try a new routine on for size. I almost shut down the blog a while back, but recognize the value in writing every day and changed my expectations about it instead. The first thing one ought to do with any habit is ask why we do it in the first place? What’s our why? Where is it bringing us? If we don’t like the answer, change the habit.

      Doesn’t everything die at last, and too soon?
      Tell me, what is it you plan to do
      with your one wild and precious life?
      — Mary Oliver, The Summer Day

      Thanks for the reminder, Mary. Yes, we’re all going to be lost to history one day, too soon: Memento mori. When are we going to stop diddling around with a routine that wastes our precious life and get on the path to meet our potential? Personal excellence (arete) is evasive, but it’s mostly a lifestyle choice. We can choose to keep getting better at the things that matter the most on our trajectory or we can get distracted by silly things. The choice has always been ours to make.

    • A Dusting of Adventure

      If the goal is to heed Henry David Thoreau’s call to rise free from care before the dawn and seek adventures, then we must remember to embrace the adventures when we come across them. It’s snowing as I write this, and the walk outside with the pup was a thrill for her, and a departure from the norm for me too. We haven’t had a snowy morning in a long time, and even if it doesn’t amount to much, it’s a dusting of adventure to start the day. The paw tracks are already accumulating.

      Snow changes the landscape immediately, and our expectations with it, by changing the rules of the game. Things like traction and cleanup and commute time come into play. These temper the thrill of the snow globe this morning, but what if instead we simply enjoyed the spark of different the dusting brings to the day? Oh, the delight that offers.

      Henry looked at every day as an adventure, he most definitely delighted in each encounter the universe presented to him, and depending on what you feel a productive day looks like, he was either wildly successful or underachieved in his lifetime. I think he got out of life what he wanted from it, achieved a level of infamy with his work and did it all the way his way. Isn’t that success?

      I’m not sure what the rest of the day will bring, but I do what I can to make the first few hours shine. We can’t very well expect every hour of our days to be magical, but we ought to influence the course of events that unfold as best we can with a proper setting. How can we possibly top a delightful start to the day? Isn’t it a thrill to try? In this way we are leaning forward into life, and making adventure more than just a dusting.

      The Morning Paws

    • To Try a Thing

      “When one has decided one’s objective it is necessary to act without making assumptions about the risk of not succeeding. As long as you have not tried a thing, you cannot say it is impossible” — Jean Monnet

      Imagine what we can do if we were only to try a thing or two. A poet or a great unifier of nations or maybe simply a better version of our current self. It’s all incubating in our imagination, awaiting a bit of consistent effort on our part. We must do the things that make us most uncomfortable in knowing the potential changes that the doing will release.

      We know the expression, “he has an active imagination”. What if we twisted that phrase to be, “he’s made his imagination active” and realized a few of those dreams? That’s the trick of a lifetime. That’s the trick of today. Just do a thing or two with the time we have today. There’s magic in the doing, because what seemed impossible is realized.

      The thing is, it’s all just clever words until we do something. We have no business dwelling on what’s impossible if we don’t make the effort, whatever our dreams may be. Decide what to be and go be it. The mission, should we choose to accept it, is simply to try. Now seems as good a moment as any.

    • Adding More

      “If it doesn’t challenge you, it won’t change you.” — Fred Devito

      These are challenging times, to be sure, but there’s opportunity on the other side of those challenges. We may either face them and continue to grow or cower at the sight of them and shrink back into what might have been. We are what we put into our days, and really nothing more than that but a bit of dumb luck and random chance. Luck and chance will only take us so far—I like the odds of growing into our potential instead.

      Challenges can be thrust upon us, like losing a job or getting a diagnosis we weren’t expecting, or it can be incremental, like increasing the intensity of a workout each time we do it. Each challenge offers an opportunity for the mind and body. Is this my limit, or can I go further? We have a choice in how to react, as Viktor Frankl pointed out, to any challenge. The freedom of that choice is profoundly ours alone.

      We can choose to add more challenge to our days, with a goal of growth and change. Adding more changes us profoundly: Reading and writing more, more intense workouts, more challenging work, more focused conversations with people of consequence. The word infers increase; let that increase bring us in the direction in which we want to go.

      Remember the old expression, pay me now or pay me later? There’s a price to be paid either way, but whether good or bad those choices compound over time. There will come a time for less. Today is not that day. There’s just so much to do in a lifetime and we only have now to work with. We may choose to accept the challenges as they come at us. Let this serve as a cattle prod to complacency. Decide what to be and go be it.

    • Living Towards

      “People think being alone makes you lonely, but I don’t think that’s true. Being surrounded by the wrong people is the loneliest thing in the world.”
      ― Kim Culbertson, The Liberation of Max McTrue

      I live in a small town with no traffic lights in New Hampshire that snugs up against Massachusetts. I’ve been here for three decades now and for the life of me I know I’ll never feel like a local despite knowing many of them, watching our children grow up together and watching some of those children begin to have children. How can one spend more than half their years in a town and still feel they’re an outsider?

      I’ve been plotting my escape from this town for years, but then I keep running into people with a shared history and find the conversation pleasant. I stood out in the semi-frozen front yard raking up acorns and wore out my arm waving to neighbors driving past on their way back from Sunday activities. I recognize the patterns of the season in this town, from how the stars align against the hillsides to where the deer go to hide from all the hunters. There’s a rhythm to familiarity that we may wear like a warm coat.

      Life is what we make of it. Where we live, what we do for work, and how much time we spend with people who don’t see the world the way we do is often up to us. We are the light in someone’s day when we encounter them, or we’re a reminder to them that they’ve got to get out of this place. The world largely reflects back what we project out to it. The last few years I’ve projected that I’d rather be somewhere else than this small town. Who can blame the town for feeling the same about me?

      The thing is, we ought to be building our lives towards something, not recoiling from something. It’s a subtle difference, but the latter has us on our heels, the former has us charging ahead. One is regression, one is progression. Don’t we all want to feel like we’re making progress in our lives? When the world seems to be shrinking from us, it’s usually a reflection of our own stance with it. We must lean into our future, wherever we want it to take us. Just be sure to give a wave and a smile to the neighbors, they look like they’re going through some things too.

    • The Bold Step

      “If you think adventure is dangerous, try routine; It is lethal.” — Paulo Coelho

      Comfort is a quiet killer. It stalks us every day, pulling us from our pursuits with its promises. Comfort means well for us, and so we trust in it. And then it steals our life away.

      We must choose adventure when it calls to us. Take the risks that inspire but make us feel a little nervous inside. Inaction is the real risk. More of the same may feel prudent, but where is it taking us?

      A full life demands boldness. Boldness in turn is a step away from the routine. It won’t call for us forever. Sooner or later it will think us like all the rest and move on to another dance partner. When we change the routine in our lives, we change our life. So shake things up. Take the bold step.

    • The Shape of Stories

      “You should write because you love the shape of stories and sentences and the creation of different words on a page. Writing comes from reading, and reading is the finest teacher of how to write.” ― Annie Proulx

      Finding stories is relatively easy when we’re paying attention to the world around us. I could write a week’s worth of blog posts based on my experiences of just the last 24 hours. That’s a 7:1 ratio for those keeping score, which infers that an active and engaged mind has infinite possibilities to create something. That doesn’t make the story interesting or easy to read, for there’s work to do beyond the first telling of a story, but it’s a great starting point.

      Here’s a story: I confronted two small disasters in my world since the last blog post dropped yesterday morning. In both cases life lessons were learned and we lived to see another sunrise. Shall I end the story there or flesh it out with more detail? A story must have structure and purpose and most of all enough interesting detail to pull a reader in. Having failed thus far at the basics, allow me to continue…

      We have one of those double ovens, top and bottom, that allow us to bake something in each independent of the other. For several years now this has worked out quite well for us. Yesterday, Thanksgiving, I turned on the oven and tucked the turkey in to roast. I inadvertently heated up the wrong oven, and our turkey sat for almost three hours in a room temperature oven before I discovered the mistake. Timing is everything with Thanksgiving and this had the makings of a disaster. After a few moments of despair, we did the only thing one can do in such moments and creatively solved the problem. Our oven has a convection bake function that greatly speeds up the cooking process. We’d never used it on something as big as a turkey but it saved the day yesterday. Crisis averted.

      Now I could have fleshed out that story with some juicy bits of dialogue between my bride and me, with her saving the day with the convection suggestion, but that’s the stuff of second or third drafts. In a proper telling of the story I would be the one stumbling, and my bride would be the hero that saved the day (she’s been saving my days for years). In my first draft, we just covered the basics and moved on to other things. In this case, there’s that second small disaster I teased earlier. Shall we continue?

      This morning I walked down the stairs in the dark, feeling my way along as I always do with a hand on the railing and years of muscle memory carrying me along. As I reached the bottom, my hand felt the dogs face greet me in the dark. “That’s not like her,” I thought to myself as I whispered a quiet good morning. I reached the kitchen, flipped the light switch and discovered something out of a murder scene. Spatters of intestinal distress all over the kitchen, literally everywhere a dog could, uh, go. “Oh no,” I muttered to myself as a reconciled myself to this new reality. But then I thought to myself, “Well, I was going to mop the floor this morning anyway.” and moved on to the next. The only thing to do in such moments is to tell the pup everything would be okay, bring her outside, grab the paper towels and begin cleanup in aisle 12.

      Again, first draft, could be fleshed out and made to sparkle with spine-tingling detail. Perhaps remove the intestinal distress part and make it a truly grisly encounter and we have the makings of a real page-turner. Stories are what we shape them into. The underlying message in both is that there’s always a solution to a problem, beginning with the decision to persevere. And from there the hero’s journey may ensue.

      So was this a memorable blog post? It can always be better but we must ship our work every day. And yet good is the enemy of great. What’s a writer to do but their best in the time they have? Only you the reader can decide whether this post was worthy of your precious time. Still, it was a memorable day since last we met. One can only hope to do their disasters justice in the storytelling.