Alexandersmap

    Category: Lifestyle

    • Raise Your Standard

      “Don’t raise a glass. Raise your standard. Be bolder. Be weirder. Be the version of yourself that scares people a little. Because Val wouldn’t want your tears. He’d want your truth.” — Jason Egenberg

      Of the tributes to Val Kilmer that I read over the last few days, Egenberg’s resonated with me the most. The entire post is worth seeking out, but those last few lines are poetry to this blogger. Surely I’ve written each of those lines at one point or another over the years, if only to poke and prod at myself a little more to go and do and be a bolder version of myself. Maybe that resonates with you too.

      Spinning around in circles
      Living it day to day
      And still twenty four hours, maybe sixty good years
      It’s still not that long a stay
      — Jimmy Buffett, Cowboy in the Jungle

      Val Kilmer died young at 65. Jimmy Buffett died at 76, which feels less old than it once did. There was a time when I wouldn’t have thought 65 or 76 was young at all, but try on a decade or five and see how it fits. The fact of the matter is, it’s not that long a stay for all of us. We may never be or want to be famous, but we ought to work to be memorable. At least to those who matter most in this world.

      The thing is, it’s hard to be a version of yourself that scares people a little when there’s just so much to do to keep things on track. We all have people who count on us to show up and to be predictable. Chances are we either owe them money or a return on the investment they’ve made in us. Who are we to ignore that? What of the return on the investment we’ve made in ourselves? As with any sound lifetime investment strategy, we must pay ourselves first.

      It’s really not that long a stay. Imagine one day when we pass on and walk into a bar (in the afterlife there are spirits, aren’t there?) where Val Kilmer and Jimmy Buffett are chatting at a table near the infinity pool (naturally). Fame doesn’t matter a lick when we’re dead, but staying true to oneself resonates. Can we have a seat at that table? Be yourself. That’s all that they would ask of us. So long as we kept raising our standard.

    • The Things Which Are My Own

      “How can a man preserve his firmness and tranquillity, and at the same time be careful and neither impatient or negligent? If he imitates people who play with dice. The dice are indifferent. How do I know what the numbers will be? I don’t know, but to choose the numbers I want, is in my control. So, in life the main priority is this: distinguish and separate things, and say, ‘”‘the external is not in my power: will is in my power. Where can I find the good and the bad? Within, in the things which are my own.” — Epictetus, Discourses: Complete Books 1 – 4 – Adapted for the Contemporary Reader

      I won’t pretend to be perfect at being alive, but it’s gotten me this far. This morning the sky was a shade of pink that reminded me of the time last year when the aurora borealis washed over the sky. When we see something wonderful like that, are we inclined to celebrate the miraculous moment or wish for something more? To simply savor the pink sky then or this morning is to be alive here and now, instead of forever chasing something more than this.

      The thing is, the world keeps reminding us that we aren’t in control of everything that washes over us. Some things are beautiful, some are ugly or even downright unfair and evil, but it’s all external to us and thus out of our control. We can’t reason with indifference, we can only find the truth that lies within us and hold on for dear life.

      Each day brings another reminder to focus on what is within our control, to influence what we can and to leave the rest to fate. We can’t control some of what washes over us, but we may choose to seek higher ground. We may choose to root ourselves in principle and truth.

      We learn that much of what is beautiful fades with time, but some of it reveals itself to us in momento (in the moment). Are we seeing it at all in our haste and worry? A beautiful life grows from the sapling of awareness. Deeply rooted, we may reach ever higher, while savoring each moment of (and with) clarity and purpose.

    • What Would Do?

      And, if you have not been enchanted by this adventure—
          your life—
      what would do for you?
      — Mary Oliver, To Begin With, the Sweet Grass

      There’s still time today to find adventure. The day is still young, and we are young enough to be bold—and old enough to play this hand wisely. Seek adventure, as Thoreau whispers from his root-covered grave in Sleepy Hollow Cemetery. Be enchanted, Oliver whispers from her grave in Amarillo.

      And so we must heed the call, with the sum of who we are, to multiply our experiences. There is no deferring with living. Do the math: Every day we subtract another.

      Yes, these are distracting times, and things like adventure and enchantment may seem frivolous when there’s so much at stake in the world. But this is our time, and these are our days to be alive. Do something that stirs and inspires. The world will still be there, miserable as ever, when we return to it.

      What would do for you? What are you waiting for? Do. Be. While there’s still time.

    • Stop Taking It for Granted

      “A man took his new hunting dog out on a trial hunt. Presently he shot a duck that fell into the lake. The dog walked over the water, picked the duck up and brought it to his master.
      The man was flabbergasted! He shot another duck. Once again, while he rubbed his eyes in disbelief, the dog walked over the water and retrieved the duck.
      Hardly daring to believe what he had seen, he called his neighbor for a shoot the following day. Once again, each time he or his neighbor hit a bird the dog would walk over the water and bring the bird in. The man said nothing. Neither did his neighbor.
      Finally, unable to contain himself any longer, he blurted out, “Did you notice anything strange about that dog?”
      The neighbor rubbed his chin pensively. “Yes,” he finally said. “Come to think of it, I did! The son of a gun can’t swim!”
      It isn’t as if life is not full of miracles. It’s more than that: it is miraculous, and anyone who stops taking it for granted will see it at once.” ― Anthony de Mello, The Prayer Of The Frog, Vol. 1

      We may choose to see what we want to see in this lifetime. The world at the moment offers many things from which we may react. But the reaction itself changes the way we see everything else in our lives. Thus, we move through our lives seeing everything through the lens of our beliefs and our reaction to things that challenge or support these beliefs.

      I can know that I’ve been held captive by my own beliefs, and also see what I believe holds others in theirs. But there’s the trap. One belief influences the other, and we move through life blind and captive behind our lenses.

      This way of seeing the world holds us captive until we release ourselves from this state. But it feels easier to just stay sheltered in our beliefs. When we stop trying to validate all we believe we may finally see just how miraculous this whole state of being alive truly is.

      At least that’s what I believe.

    • Little Flower

      “The little flower that opens in the meadows lives and dies in a season; but what agencies have concentrated themselves to produce it! So the human soul lives in the midst of heavenly help.” — Elizabeth Palmer Peabody

      Elizabeth Palmer Peabody was a teacher and a publisher, born in Billerica, Massachusetts, tutored in Greek by Emerson, the first to publish Thoreau, a leading voice in the education of children and the philosophy of transcendentalism. A little flower who moved with the giants and made her mark in her season.

      We are moving through time, together for this brief moment and then apart. Perhaps we’ll meet again on our timelines, perhaps not. We may savor the moment for all it offers or leave it grateful for the lessons we’ve accumulated.

      Learning is a lifelong mission, honed through self-awareness that in turn stirs a belief within that we must become more than this. May that feeling last a lifetime. For that which is not growing is dying, and we have more to do in this world, you and I. Grow and produce something of consequence. Our season is not over yet, little flower.

    • Sublimity Above Scorn

      “Scorn trifles, lift your aims: do what you are afraid to do: sublimity of character must come from sublimity of motive.” — Mary Moody Emerson

      We’ve all pondered some variation of the question, “who in history would we most love to have a conversation with?” We can easily come up with our short list of fascinating characters. One can easily derive who tops my list by the frequency with which I quote them in this blog. But not all. Consider Mary Moody Emerson, the aunt of Ralph Waldo Emerson and by all accounts a delightful, energetic and fascinating woman who could talk circles around her nephew and the thought leaders of the day residing in or around Concord, Massachusetts.

      She was born in Concord at the beginning of the American Revolution and passed away in the middle of the American Civil War. She saw a few things in her time, and was an avid reader and practitioner of commonplacing, which is essentially the format of this blog for the last several years. For all the bitterness that those two wars represented in our history, she sought enlightenment and sublimity through reading and conversation to better understand the great thinkers of the time. One can easily say she played a strong part in the rise of transcendentalism.

      The America of today is again splitting apart on ideology and scorn. It’s easy to get wrapped up in the ugliness of the moment, and I’m not advocating ignoring it (we’ve seen what happens when authoritarians are unchecked). Awareness and resolve are essential characteristics of the resilient mind. But we must be aware of the cost of participation in the war of words. Perhaps we should listen to someone who saw the worst and the best of humanity in her time and chose to lift her aims. We too may seek sublimity over scorn, knowing it will not easy, but nonetheless essential work.

    • Says I to Myself

      “To-day you may write a chapter on the advantages of travelling, and to-morrow you may write another chapter on the advantages of not travelling. The horizon has one kind of beauty and attraction to him who has never explored the hills and mountains in it, and another, I fear a less ethereal and glorious one, to him who has. That blue mountain in the horizon is certainly the most heavenly, the most elysian, which we have not climbed, on which we have not camped for a night. But only our horizon is moved thus further off, and if our whole life should prove thus a failure, the future which is to atone for all, where still there must be some success, will be more glorious still. ‘Says I to myself’ should be the motto of my journal. It is fatal to the writer to be too much possessed by his thought. Things must lie a little remote to be described.” — Henry David Thoreau, The Journal of Henry David Thoreau

      The thing about writing a blog every day is that it can feel like a journal pretty quickly. That’s not the intention at all, especially given the number of wonderful people in my life that read the blog. Sure, I’ve made this bed now I’ve got to lie in it. But it will never be a journal, even if people occasionally comment on it as if it was.

      We reach a place in our lives, look off to the horizon and see another mountain to climb. We reach that one and it all starts again. A life lived in pursuit of personal excellence is a constant process of seeing the next goal and setting out for it. When do we get to rest? In our graves? But so goes the journey of becoming. It will always be action-oriented, it will always be a climb. But oh, the view!

    • Trust, But Verify

      “Exercise caution in your business affairs, for the world is full of trickery. But let this not blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals, and everywhere life is full of heroism.” — Max Ehrmann, Desiderata

      It would do us all good to live by the adage, trust, but verify. The world is full of wonderful people who live beautiful lives filled with generosity and goodwill towards others. The world is also filled with charlatans and evil characters who think only of themselves at the expense of all that is good in this world.

      Knowing that both are true, we may choose to move through the world with cautious optimism armored in strength, resolve and a sharp eye. Put another way, it’s okay to walk into the theater to enjoy the show, but always know where the closest exits are and never turn your back on the bad actor holding a grudge.

      Trust, but verify apparently has its roots in an old Russian proverb, which tells you a thing or two about the Russians. They aren’t all bad, but they also won’t allow anyone to stab them in the back. We should naturally view them with the same level of caution. The Ukrainians have a proverb that goes, “the malicious cow disturbs the entire herd.” And here we are.

      The thing is, we must make our way through this world prepared to meet both the best and worst of us, because we have and will again. To live heroically, we must be both ambassadors and a trusted friend to others while also working diligently to develop resilience and Taleb’s concept of antifragility that we may fend off the malicious intent of humanity’s worst actors. To reach our full potential we must climb and hold the high ground, prepared to defend it when the barbarians make their charge.

    • Floating Off the Edge

      “Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth.” — Max Ehrmann, Desiderata

      May your hands always be busy
      May your feet always be swift
      May you have a strong foundation
      When the winds of changes shift
      May your heart always be joyful
      May your song always be sung
      May you stay forever young
      — Bob Dylan, Forever Young

      I rewatched The Last Waltz last night, secure in the knowledge that I could turn up the volume as loudly as I wanted to with my bride on the other side of the country (she may still have heard it playing). I was struck by how young each of the performers were. Bob Dylan, Joni Mitchell, Van Morrison, Neil Young, Neil Diamond, Emmylou Harris, and even Director Martin Scorsese—they all looked like kids because really, they still were. And The Band, every last one of them gone now, all were at the height of their productive youth. How quickly it all flies by… Tempus fugit.

      That film was the amber of that moment for them, and they’re locked in time. So it was fitting for Dylan to sing Forever Young, and for Scorsese to provide the amber. The Band knew what they were walking away from—the grind of the road, true, but also their youth. There’s lingering sadness at what was left on stage revealed in conversations with each member, especially Rick Danko. No, we aren’t Peter Pan, forever young and living the life of adventure, we all must grow up one day. And so it is that each of the performers have aged and faded away one-by-one. Memento mori.

      Why did I rewatch this film? Maybe it was the music, or maybe to have my own look back on a different time. An industry friend passed away this week. He was twenty years my senior and cancer took him away with a mind as sharp as someone twenty years my junior. Age is just a number—health and vitality are our true currency in life. The body or the mind will surely fail us all one day, so be bold and dance today. And while we’re at it, turn up the volume as loud as we dare. Carpe diem.

      “We’re all in the same boat ready to float off the edge of the world” — The Band, Life is a Carnival

      Maybe I write to capture my own moments in amber, or maybe I’m just leaving breadcrumbs of where I’ve been. We all have our body of work and our faded photographs (or increasingly, lower resolution JPEG’s) that whisper of who we once were in the height of our own productive youth. The trick is to keep producing, to keep dancing, and to lock some particularly shiny moments away in amber while we can, until one day this boat floats off the edge to join all the stars in infinity.

    • I Can Give In or I Can Try

      San Francisco, New York City
      Strangely silent, strangely empty
      His graffiti filled the subway
      But where’s my brother?
      He could keep you up for hours
      In a town of wilting flowers, yeah, yeah
      I can more or less continue my life
      I can give in or I can try
      Hit the ground running
      Hit the ground running for your life
      — Tim Finn, Hit the Ground Running

      As a proud member of Generation X, the art of Keith Haring was omnipresent in my life. Ironically, Haring was a Baby Boomer, but he really broke out in the 80’s when Gen Xers were looking for something uniquely our own to hold onto. His vibrant graffiti-style art spoke to us, and is still copied by graffiti artists today. Haring’s art was visually representative of the time—and seemingly everywhere. He was an anchor of the era alongside John Hughes movies, MTV and the music videos playing on it. And tragically, Haring was swept up in another anchor of that time: AIDS. He passed away at 31.

      Tim Finn, lead singer of one of those MTV staples; Crowded House, wrote Hit the Ground Running to honor Keith Haring. The song has been one of those tunes that I keep on my own playlists. Headphone or solo driving music, because it’s one of those songs that stands apart a little from the usual fare. I have a lot of those songs, my misfits, that I keep just for myself.

      The song is written from two perspectives—the person who found out they’ve been diagnosed with AIDS and they’re going to wither away and die, and from the perspective of the person who loves that person who is dying and will have to go on without them. And so when you see the lyrics they can mean both:

      I can more or less continue my life
      I can give in or I can try

      Everything in the universe is cyclical. We are all born, live our lives and eventually pass from this world. All we can do is accept that truth and make the most of the time we have. Things can feel hopeless and unfair at times, but these moments too shall pass. We must choose how to live our lives through the best and worst of moments, both to honor the people who made us who we are and the direction we’ve chosen as our own path through it all. We may travel this world with empathy, dignity and persistence and learn to transcend the darkest moments we will inevitably find ourselves in.