Alexandersmap

    Category: Lifestyle

    • Our Opportunity of a Lifetime

      We know what we are, but not what we may be.”
      — William Shakespeare, Hamlet

      The final day of the year offers us a clear idea of who we are, and tantalizes us with the mystery of what we may be in the next year. So here we are again, friend. What have we become? What will we become? All the weight of identity placed on a turn of the calendar. But every day offers these questions that only we may answer. To be or not to be, that is the question: every single day.

      This year coming to an end offers us the answer. We have become both in what we have consumed (food, media, books, feedback, time) and what we have produced (art, presence in the lives of others, our chosen professional work, our acceptance of or anger at our fellow humans to the sum of each in the world). We are the sum of our consumption and production to this point. We either like who we’ve become or we may reset the compass and go in a new direction entirely. That’s the beauty of a new day and the New Year: reinvention.

      It always comes back to what we say yes and no to. Today’s post completes a promise I made to myself a year ago to write every day. Regular readers know that I considered stopping to focus on other things, but pushed through the no to arrive back at yes. I’m inclined to say yes to this promise again in the next year, knowing that there will be hurdles once again. We all have those things that set our day in motion, don’t we? Writing is my motion setter.

      We may take that concept of setting things in motion to tomorrow, today. Whatever that audacious resolution may be, today offers an opportunity to set the stage. What we may be remains our unique opportunity of a lifetime. Why wait another day to get started on the path to becoming?

    • The Two Characters We Meet Every Day

      “I don’t feel that it is necessary to know exactly what I am. The main interest in life and work is to become someone else that you were not in the beginning.” — Michel Foucault

      “When the person you could have been meets the person you are becoming, is it going to be a cause for celebration or heartbreak? ” — Seth Godin, This is Strategy

      It’s been a couple of weeks since I stopped using Duolingo, and even though I grew dissatisfied with the app, I’ve grown more dissatisfied with not consistently working on being multilingual. And so I purchased a competing app, Babbel, to give that a go. I’ve evaluated it before, but at the time didn’t want to invest in a second app. So we’ll see how it goes.

      This will not be a blog post about learning a language. It is (partially) about becoming the person we could be if we just applied ourselves to the task every day. I fancy myself a writer, and so I write. The blog isn’t quite enough for me, and so I’ve set daily goals beyond the blog that I must honor. As with Babbel, we’ll see how it goes, but we learn with everything we aspire to in our lives that it’s now or never.

      There’s a reason that Planet Fitness sponsors the New Years Eve celebration in Times Square. They’re aware that we’re all looking at who we’re becoming as the year turns and deciding whether we’re going to be heartbroken by the encounter or have reason to celebrate. We all want this next year to be our best year ever, don’t we? The trick is in how we realize that. One resolution does not an identity make, but our incremental daily actions carry us a long way.

      The thing is, that character we’re becoming is simply the course we set for ourselves. The character we live with every day ought to be interesting, productive and fun or we’ll inevitably back away slowly to find a better dance partner. Becoming is a daily reckoning of who we are with who we want to be. The key to a successful, joyful life is to make the character who is marching towards the future to meet our desired future self the kind of person we want to be around every day.

    • Domino Days

      “I shall live badly if I do not write, and I shall write badly if I do not live.” — Françoise Sagan

      At some point in our lives we must turn our best intentions into action and do the things we claim we want to do. Otherwise we are adding our voice to the choir of quiet desperation Thoreau warned us about. Playing a bigger part in the play of life naturally leads to more things to talk about, which is nice in conversation, but it also leads us to a string of ever-larger dominos disguised as days. The thrill is in seeing how big we can grow our days, simply built upon the one before.

      There’s nothing wrong with lining up a row of our days of like size, one after the other, for a time that suits us. When we raise children, every day feels like the same-sized day of changing diapers, making lunches, helping with homework, driving them to practice, teaching them how to drive and suddenly(!) moving them to college. We’re simply helping them line up their own domino days, along with our own. It turns out those days are growing in scope too, we were just to busy to realize it at the time.

      There are days when it feels like we’ll never topple those larger dominos, but each incremental day builds towards something more substantial still. Our unbroken string of days pays off with an ever-bigger life. It’s the gaps that force us to start all over again. Mind the gap, as the Brits say, and step into the next thing. Soon we’re really going somewhere.

      The blog you’re reading now (thank you) is a string of dominos disguised as daily posts taking both of us somewhere bigger than where we started. When we view our writing and our lives in this way, we begin to see that it’s all about building and sustaining momentum, thus increasing our contribution for the days beyond this one. Growth is inevitable in both our writing and our lives when we just keep pushing a little further along.

    • Becoming Better at Seeing

      I was talking to one of my in-law’s neighbors while walking the pup on their street. The neighbor has reached a place where you might call her elderly and frail, but was out shoveling her driveway because her grandson hadn’t shown up to do it. We’re all so busy this time of year… the grandson surely wouldn’t have let his grandmother shovel her driveway alone on a frigid day, but he wasn’t there to witness it and step in. My daughter and I were, and finished her driveway, cleared off her car and asked her if she wanted to come over to join us at the holiday party we were having. She politely declined and thanked us for the invitation.

      We become comfortable in our routines, even when those routines don’t make sense for us anymore. In a perfect world the tribe would revere and support the tribal elders. We live in a world where we’re tapped out and stretched thin, and sometimes we don’t get around to making the call or stopping by to see how those tribal elders are doing. Often they’re holding on by a thread, doing the best they can. A burst of snow quickly freezing into concrete has the potential to put someone over the edge without a lifeline.

      When we slow down a beat and stop rushing on to the next thing with our blinders on, our peripheral vision improves greatly. There are people moving through this world who easily see gaps and fill them with their full attention. I aspire to be more like them, while knowing I’m one of those people who are often too busy to have that situational awareness. We all want to help, don’t we? We just don’t always see. As we move down our path towards personal excellence, becoming better at seeing and solving is something to aspire to. We’re all in this tribe together, aren’t we?

    • Time Is Our Treasure

      If I could make days last forever
      If words could make wishes come true
      I’d save every day like a treasure and then
      Again, I would spend them with you
      — Jim Croce, Time in a Bottle

      When I was younger, I felt that time flew by. Now my kids talk about how quickly time flies. One day maybe I’ll have grandchildren making the observation. Humans have been making this observation since our brains developed to discern such things as time and our place in it. Tempus fugit.

      We’re told to treasure each day, for each is the most valuable thing we can spend. Time is our treasure. Some spend frivolously, some frugally. We ourselves work to maximize our days, but still see too much of our time slip away. We aren’t meant to have it all, maybe just enough. All we can do is the best we can with it.

      Awareness seems to be the magic ingredient for savoring. We develop a taste for living when we view it all as buried treasure in the sands of time. What lies hidden from us is revealed day-by-day, captured in photographs and memories. Our treasure is as substantial as we make it.

    • The Heart of Wisdom

      “Anticipation is the heart of wisdom. If you are going to cross a desert, you anticipate that you will be thirsty, and you take water.” ― Mark Helprin, A Soldier of the Great War

      I’m anticipating a busy day, filled with traffic and a desire to get there already. Knowing what’s in front of me, I’ve already filled the gas tank, arranged the dog sitter, agreed on a meeting place and worked through contingency plans. And all of this is just for a Thursday night in the city. Anticipation can make us nervous and edgy, or it can set the table for success. It’s all in how we dance with it.

      All that preparation is wisdom in disguise. We learn from past mistakes and, having survived it, prepare better for the next time. Challenges arise as they always do, we’re simply more ready for them than we might have been before we accumulated that wisdom.

      Taking care of the basics first is essential. The act of taking water with us anywhere we go is rarely going to work against us (TSA checkpoints excepted), along with a snack and another layer to make us comfortable when the weather inevitably changes. Maybe mom was right all along.

      And this hints at the secret to wisdom. Perhaps the wisest thing we can do is to borrow wisdom from those who have suffered similar challenges before us. History offers lessons for those who pay attention. We may be making great leaps forward in technology and available knowledge, but none of it means a thing if we go back to reinventing the wheel at the start of each journey.

    • The Experience-Collecting Years

      “We all have at least the potential to make more money in the future, we can never go back and recapture time that is now gone. So it makes no sense to let opportunities pass us by for fear of squandering our money. Squandering our lives should be a much greater worry.” ― Bill Perkins, Die with Zero

      I saw an old friend at the local hardware store and caught up with him while juggling my handful of fasteners and domestic life enhancers. ’tis the season for stumbling upon old friends, as every errand seems to offer a harvest of good conversations with acquaintances from different parts of my life. When people get out of their homes more often serendipity offers opportunities we don’t get when holed up behind locked doors. Life is best experienced together, don’t you think?

      My friend in the hardware store asked me where I was traveling to next, thinking of me as a world traveller. In fact, most every friend I see asks me this question. Perhaps I overshare on social media, or perhaps they don’t travel much themselves. Who knows? I feel I don’t travel nearly enough, and that’s a driving force for more travel still. I view myself as a collector of experiences more than passport stamps, but the two tend to go hand-in-hand, mostly because if you want to experience something like climbing the Tower of Pisa or to navigate the labyrinth of the four quarters of the Old City in Jerusalem, you’ve got to travel to them.

      According to the Pew Research Center, only 11% of Americans have traveled to ten or more countries. I’m fortunate to be well past ten, and have a bucket list of countries I’d like to add to the list in my healthy, experience-collecting years. Once we’ve acquired just enough money and time to collect experiences (and it’s often a matter of prioritization), the only other currency to consider is our health. And friend, we aren’t getting any younger. With many experiences, it’s now or never. A Canadian friend, who travels far more than me, has a strategy to go to the farthest, most challenging places now, because when he’s older he won’t be able to do it. That seems pretty logical to me.

      We all have some idea of what a full life means for us. I admire people who are happy staying within the community they were born in, living a full and meaningful life within those borders, but for some of us that’s not quite enough. For we are nomads and adventurers, ambassadors and explorers. The experiences we seek aren’t meant to be for bragging rights at cocktail parties and local hardware stores, the experiences fill some void we feel within us, making us more whole.

      Our handful of experiences offers a return on investment in memories and perspective that is invaluable as we navigate the rest of our lives. In ten years what will the world look like? Will we even be able to cross certain borders? If we defer, will we be able to walk on ancient cobblestone roads or hike up icy trails in that evasive “someday, when”? There’s an opportunity cost to saying no to travel, just as there’s a financial cost to saying yes. I’m not advocating being irresponsible with financial currency, just don’t be too frugal with those health and time currencies. The best experience-collecting time is usually now.

    • 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?