Alexandersmap

    Category: Lifestyle

    • 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.

    • Cats and Dogs

      To have a cat is to have a nocturnal tinkerer who doesn’t care a lick that you’re sleeping. My bride seemingly never hears the tinkering. It seems that pleasure is reserved for me. Just me and the cat… every night. Got something on the shelf? Not for long. Got flowers in a vase? Let’s knock it over and watch the water run. Got a favorite plant? Tastes great! But don’t you dare forget to feed me before you do anything else. A cat purrs in contempt—I’m convinced of it.

      To have a dog is to have a personal greeter who is delighted to see you once again when you walk down the stairs to start your day. A dog is someone to walk with. A personal coach who will get you back out there walking even when you just want to sit down for a little while. A dog is a shared treasure in a house full of hope and love, because a dog helps fill that house with love.

      Now you may read this and get the feeling I have a strong opinion about cats and dogs in this world. And for the most part, you’d be correct. But the thing is, I like a cat just fine when it forgets that it’s a cat and just meets you halfway to cordial now and then. And I’m not a fan of dogs that believe they should have been cats, behaving like spoiled children running amuck. It’s attitude that counts with me, not what you were born as.

      And this naturally goes for people as well. The arrogant and entitled are not welcome in my life. The generous and kind have an open door whenever they wish to return to our home. We learn to read people over time, seeing the wolf in sheep’s clothing for who they are, learning to forgive the occasional mistake from those who meant well but stumbled nonetheless. It’s not who you were born as, it’s who you decide to be that matters most. Be kind and generous. And for god’s sake, stop tinkering in the night when I’m trying to sleep.

    • Being Mad in a Prudent World

      “Run from what’s comfortable. Forget safety. Live where you fear to live. Destroy your reputation. Be notorious. I have tried prudent planning long enough. From now on I’ll be mad.” — Rumi

      We are too often prudent. We like to think ourselves mad, but we gradually move back to doing what is expected of us, what is logical, what will pay the bills and such. When all along our wild side cries for release. Do you still hear the cry, or has it been smothered to death?

      I’m not suggesting we each take the sum of our 401(k)’s and put it all in at the craps table, merely that we stray off the straight and narrow more often. Do what nobody ever expected of us now and then, just to keep them from believing they have us figured out. We are more than the expectations others that have of us—at least we ought to be.

      We stack our experiences neatly in a line, one day to the next. Towards the middle, we start to see a trend as our collection of experiences become our identity. This is who I am is as powerful an anchor as any. To slip that anchor in favor of this is who I will be is a scary proposition. And this is why most people never sail beyond that safe harbor. They reach the end of their days wondering where they might have gone but for a little courage to weigh that anchor and set the sails for adventure.

      I see my light come shining
      From the west unto the east.
      Any day now, any day now,
      I shall be released.
      — Bob Dylan, I Shall Be Released

      A blog is a form of expression. Perhaps it’s a way to let the cries have their say, or to document the gradual release of this writer from the anchors that once held him firmly in place. There’s far more to say and do, and following the heading of who we will be is easier said than done. But Rome wasn’t built in a day, and neither are we, friend. The voyage begins with each step away from prudent, towards what once seemed quite mad. We find that what was prudent at anchor is mad when we’ve sailed beyond who we once were.

    • This is Not Enough

      “There are some days when I think I’m going to die from an overdose of satisfaction.” ― Salvador Dalí

      This summer, I’ve changed.
      A lot.
      Some people have noticed the changes,
      most have not…
      Ahh, but I have.

      Whatever leaps forward we make ought to be celebrated, but not lingered on. For we must reach further still. We must seize what flees, as Seneca warned us. To be complacent is to wither in place. To be satisfied is to leave our best on the table, conceding that we weren’t all that after all. Screw that! We must keep moving. We must keep changing and growing and discovering more of that untapped potential lying dormant under years of apathy and bliss, For this—this is not nearly enough.

      Some days this blog is just behind where I’ve landed. Some days it deceives the reader, for I’ve already crossed a chasm to another place. Today’s blog is just where I am—hitting some milestones, hungry for more and not nearly satisfied, poised to leap into the unknown again and again. We all must feel this way to become who we were meant to be. We all must put aside who we once were for something more compelling. That is our mission each day we rise to face the challenges change brings to us.

      “Non est ad astra mollis e terris via (There is no easy way from the earth to the stars)” ― Seneca

      A Seneca-heavy post today, but when the philosopher fits, wear it. The thing is, quotes and poems and our own words are nothing but affirmation until we do the work to close the gaps. It’s easy to say we’ll do something, harder to actually do it. Action, not words, are all that count in the end. Dissatisfaction is a trigger for the work that must follow to be all that we can be in this short go with a vibrant life. Being infers action. It is the creative act of climbing to possibility. For there is no easy way from the earth to the stars. We must go to them.

    • To Live

      “To live is the rarest thing in the world. Most people exist, that is all.” — Oscar Wilde

      Do interesting things. Cross borders—real and imagined. Test the validity of advice from timid people. Discover the bridges that fill the gaps between who we are and who we aspire to become. For the clock is ticking and time grows short, even as we foolishly believe it may run on forever.

      There’s work to be done (surely there’s always work to be done), but make it work that explores limitations and offers a steep ascent in learning. Always remember that we may never pass this way again, so do what calls for attention while we are here—younger and more vibrant than we would be if we ever were to return.

      To live, and not to merely exist. This is our quest. Get to it already!

    • Grinding for the Long Term

      “Going from zero weekly exercise to just ninety minutes per week can reduce your risk of dying from all causes by 14 percent. It’s very hard to find a drug that can do that.” — Peter Attia, Outlive

      I’m sore. The kind of sore that you seek out one step or lift or twist at a time. And since I’m traveling as I write this, that means a whole lot of steps. But I’m on a climb back to a higher level of fitness—the kind that lasts a lifetime.

      We are dealt a genetic hand when we are born, and we must learn how to play that hand as best we can to mitigate the bad cards while maximizing the value of our better cards. I’m not much of a card player but I know enough to play for the long term when the cards present themselves a certain way. In poker (and in life) this is called grinding.

      There’s always an excuse for stepping off the fitness path. Yesterday’s excuse could have been deep dish pizza and a birthday toast for my daughter. Neither of those things would have changed a great day by having them. I celebrated with a salad and iced water. There’s a time for carbs and booze, and a time to stay on track. Great days happen when we focus on the joyful essential, not the superfluous extras.

      Similarly, working out every single day can suck a lot of time away from other things we could be doing. What are those things? Are they so important that we can’t carve out an hour or two out of the day to exercise? Usually not. We made a walking tour of Chicago part of our itinerary, seeing things we might not have seen otherwise while increasing our step count.

      They say that life hardens us. But life can also soften us too. We grow comfortable and complacent, and less inclined to do the work needed to be healthy, vibrant and fit. There’s a tax that comes due when we defer our fitness. Pay me now or pay me later…. Choosing to grind each day offers dividends in more energy now and a longer health span down the road. Making that road more vibrant for longer is a great investment in our time now.

    • How Clever

      “Yesterday I was clever, so I wanted to change the world. Today I am wise, so I am changing myself.” — Rumi

      They say that change happens slowly, but it feels more instant than that. Transformation happens slowly—deciding to change happens instantly. The rest is execution. Decide what to be and go be it.

      We get too clever for our own good. We come up with great excuses for why we won’t change and say we’ll get to work tomorrow. There is no tomorrow, friend. We must get to work now.

      How clever is that?