Alexandersmap

    Category: Lifestyle

    • Processing Time

      “Wash the dishes relaxingly, as though each bowl is an object of contemplation. Consider each bowl as sacred. Follow your breath to prevent your mind from straying. Do not try to hurry to get the job over with. Consider washing the dishes the most important thing in life. Washing the dishes is meditation. If you cannot wash the dishes in mindfulness, neither can you meditate while sitting in silence.” — Thich Nhat Hanh, The Miracle of Mindfulness: A Manual on Meditation

      The writing of the blog post started late this morning, with fresh snow to clear from the driveway a priority, and a relatively subdued morning to follow. The words will come, as they always do, and they’re often better for having changed up the routine. I know I was the better for having done a small bit of exercise in the cold air with a pink and orange kaleidoscope of dancing clouds greeting me through the bare trees.

      The driveway and I have an understanding. If the snow is heavy and wet and more than two inches, I use the snowblower. If light and fluffy and less than four inches, I alway shovel. All other conditions fall somewhere in between, but I default to the shovel when it’s a reasonable ask of myself. I do this because so little in our lives is analog or manual anymore. We’ve got engines and batteries and computers for everything nowadays. These things do the work for us, but rob us of time to process anything in our minds. How many drive to the gym to walk on a treadmill, watching the screen in front of them take them to another place? How does that stir the imagination? I have a friend who walks through the woods to work every day and consider him the luckiest commuter I know.

      We must design a lifestyle that allows us to contemplate things, and to dream and discover things about the world and ourselves. There must be time in our daily lives for us to reflect on the world and our place in it, or we will remain nothing but distracted souls like all the rest. That’s not us, friend. Carve out and protect that processing time. As a bonus, we’ll be greeted with a job well done and a wee bit more clarity.

    • Countdown Days

      I dabble in spreadsheets. It began (and continues) as a necessary skill in my career, but really I love the story that numbers tell you. Not too long ago I mapped out the next five years on a spreadsheet, just to see what I was working with. Using a specific date of relevance as a target date for zero, I created a countdown to that date. It turned out to be a nice round number: 1900. That became my five year plan number, and so a countdown began.

      A countdown to what? Why, the person I want to be at that number. What I want to be doing and where I want to be doing it. All sorts of things come into play then: fitness level, financial goals, career accomplishments, places to be visited, books to be read or written, and yes: daily blog posts (who’s up for 1900 more?!).

      You can fit a lot into 1900 lines on a spreadsheet if you try hard enough. I have many goals in my life, and I started plugging in events and trips and milestones onto that spreadsheet. It turns out there’s a lot to do in 1900 days, and one can’t very well waste them. But 1900 is a big number, best broken down into bite-sized bits. 90 days is something many of us can relate to. It’s a quarter of a year, three months, one trimester. 90 days is a number we can grasp and work with. Divide 1900 by 90 and you get 21 and change. It turns out 1900 wasn’t optimal after all, but it’s the number and loose change be damned. That loose change is full of days of ripe experience, or at least they ought to be, and who’s going to complain about a few extra days as a buffer against the curveballs of life?

      90 days offer countdowns within countdowns. We can break it down to 30 days and weeks and single days, and do what we can with them in their time. Life is a countdown, and we all know the score. The end game isn’t the zero we reach on our expiration but the blank spaces we fill up along the way. Putting things in black and white offers a clear imperative. Do something with today lest it slip away. Tempus fugit.

      Upcoming events become countdowns within a countdown too. Some trips I’m looking forward to are counting down as I write this, and I calculate the things that must happen between now and then, adding to-do items to a growing list and get to it. There’s growing excitement in a countdown, and I feel the stir of faraway places and future goals and tasks accomplished in each entry on the spreadsheet.

      The key to a blank spreadsheet is filling in what we’re measuring. We aren’t just counting down to nothing after all: we’re creating a lifetime of memories, filled with all the things that make up our days. A countdown merely brings focus to an otherwise ambiguous stack. Like any great salesperson, we must sell the vision. In this case, we’re selling ourselves on the vision, that we might take the necessary steps to get from here to there. When we finish, we can see all the things we did to get there, and celebrate the journey all the more.

      But why five years and change? Haven’t we got so much more left in the tank than that? We must set a fixed date in our future that we might strive for more in that timeframe. Sure, we all anticipate many more days. If we’re lucky enough we can add a few more countdowns after this one is done. But that’s a much longer spreadsheet, isn’t it? Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.

    • Shared Experience

      Calling California or new to New York
      It don’t matter where you wanna roam
      It don’t matter high or low or the clothes you wanna wear
      We’re making good time with your hand fitting into mine
      Every mile you’re where my story goes
      It don’t matter fast or slow we’re gettin’ there
      — Graham Colton, Gettin’ There

      It’s still very much winter in New England (snow is flying even as I write this), but spring fever is beginning to creep up within me. The desire to get out in the world and meet it is always present, balanced by an underlying sense of place appreciating right where I am already. Life is full of choices, and with choice comes opportunity cost. We can’t do it all, but we can build a life that allows us to optimize some experiences we value more than others.

      I write this knowing I’m traveling a lot in the coming months. Travel doesn’t feel real until you’re doing it, and the paradox of travel is it doesn’t always feel real when you’re actually doing it either. That is unless you travel frequently and become conditioned to living out of a bag. Having lived both sides of this lifestyle, I know the opportunity cost of both.

      The best travel is done with people you want to share experiences with. In the end, our experiences together are the most rewarding. When we think about our favorite memories, most of them involve being around others. My solo hikes and visits to incredible places around the world were wonderful, but would have been that much better as a shared experience. If I ever seem to be in a hurry to get to any next phase of my life, it’s mostly so that I might share more experiences with the people who mean the most to me.

      We can’t rush through life. Experience means nothing if we aren’t immersed in it. Yes, there is a cost, but also an underlying opportunity in being “here, now” that we can’t miss out on. The trick is to be aware and present for all of it, even as we structure our lives to maximize that time together. We’re writing a story of a lifetime, after all, and every great story is better shared with others.

    • Past and Present

      “It is a mistake to think that the past is dead. Nothing that has ever happened is quite without influence at this moment. The present is merely the past rolled up and concentrated in this second of time. You, too, are your past; often your face is your autobiography; you are what you are because of what you have been; because of your heredity stretching back into forgotten generations; because of every element of environment that has affected you, every man or woman that has met you, every book that you have read, every experience that you have had; all these are accumulated in your memory, your body, your character, your soul. And so it is with a city, a country, a race; it is its past, and cannot be understood without it. It is the present, not the past, that dies; this present moment, to which we give so much attention, is forever flitting from our eyes and fingers into that pedestal and matrix of our lives which we call the past. It is only the past that lives.” — Will Durant, Fallen Leaves

      Super Bowl Sunday was a fun day for many, a crushing day for a few, and a collective memory for all who paid it any attention. Life marches on, no matter which team won or which celebrity did what at the game. It’s all a game in the end. The fact that I woke feeling pretty good overall is far more important to me than who won the game (particularly since “my team” hadn’t even made the playoffs).

      We are each a collection of our past living on within us. We do what we must with the present trying to make it great and to set up a better version of us tomorrow, but our identity is always built on what we’ve done in the past that brought us here. We are all writing our life’s story, our greatest hits, and our obituary. We ought to make it shine.

      A few years ago I started logging what I did every day in a line per day journal. It’s a great way to focus on making something memorable of every day, but it’s also a great way to look back at the breadcrumbs of a life that brought us from there to here. The blank pages to come are full of optimism, but the pages that have been filled are who we really are.

      My recent past has involved looking at several paths forward, weighing each, dismissing some and leaning in to others. Humans must look to the future, even as we live a present built on our past. Our question is always, “What’s next?” and we spend our lives trying to find the answer. Our present, on the other hand, forever answers a different question: “How have you been?” We ought to like the answer. Yesterday is gone, but it lives on within us.

    • Opportunity Cost

      “There is an opportunity cost for everything we do. This is why we must have the awareness to ensure that what we are pursuing is really what we value, because the pursuit leaves countless lost opportunities in its wake. We choose one experience at the sacrifice of all other experiences.” — Chris Matakas, The Tao of Jiu Jitsu

      As we grow up we begin to encounter the reality of opportunity cost. Simply put, when we do one thing, we naturally can’t be doing another thing. Compound that fact over time and we grow into a completely different person than the person we’d have been doing that other thing. Now multiply those two options by a lifetime of options and we see the challenge of choice in a person’s life.

      For every hike not taken, there’s an opportunity cost of not having been there. On the other hand, hiking has its own opportunity cost in experiences not shared with friends and family. Writing this blog every day costs me time I could be working out more, or walking the dog, or getting a head start on the day. I spent many years of my life not writing every day, and there was surely a cost to that too. Life is full of tradeoffs. The only guarantee is we’re running out of time every day we live.

      We ought to consider opportunity cost in our decisions, but weighed against the return on our investment. When the return is high enough, it becomes worthy of our time. Time is life after all, and those grains of sand aren’t being refilled in the hourglass. Spend wisely, but don’t regret what was left undone while chasing something with a high rate of personal return. Regrets are a waste of time better spent on the next opportunity.

    • Earning Deserving

      “To get what you want, you have to deserve what you want. The world is not yet a crazy enough place to reward a whole bunch of undeserving people.” ― Charles Munger

      “Success is not to be pursued; it is to be attracted by the person you become.” — Jim Rohn

      We are all trying to reach someplace better than we began. Some of us began in a pretty decent position, some are well behind the 8 ball. It would be irresponsible to not acknowledge that starting position isn’t important in our lives. Head-starts do matter, but we ought to remember that where we start doesn’t guarantee where we finish. Most people in a free society have agency over their lives. Many simply choose to relinquish it.

      We all know examples of people who waste their potential. The mirror is particularly handy when we think of those what-might-have-beens. There’s an old saying about mirrors being much smaller than windshields for a reason: we must look forward not back to get where we want to go. Put another way, if we aren’t moving forward we’re in danger of being dragged backwards by the past.

      But forward is daunting. It’s changing the very things that make us who we are, and becoming someone else. The same is comfortable, while change seems like a lot of work. Crossing that chasm seems impossible at times. This is where that small mirror can help offer perspective. Think of the things that we once thought were impossibilities in our lives that are now core parts of our identity. The future doesn’t look so daunting when viewed from the lens of possibility.

      Sure, excellence is a habit. Who doesn’t want to reach their level of personal excellence? It turns out plenty of people would rather be comfortable than try to leap across chasms. More often than not, I’d rather be comfortable than working out or hiking up a mountain or doing the work that leads to uncommon results in my career. The struggle is real, and the only way forward is to take those incremental steps necessary to move onward and upward. When we keep checking boxes we close gaps between who we were and who we want to become. Deep down, we know that deserving is earned one step at a time. It turns out that all that really matters is what we do next.

    • To Live For

      “The mark of the immature man is that he wants to die nobly for a cause, while the mark of the mature man is that he wants to live humbly for one.” ― J.D. Salinger, The Catcher in the Rye

      You may have heard this before here, but time flies (tempus fugit). The more we put behind us, the more we might see just how essential purpose is to our identity. We produce what we might in our lifetimes, we nurture a character that grows through the seasons, systems, habits and trends we put it through, and always, we are that average of the people we associate with the most. To live for others is to carry ourselves in such a way that we make a ripple that rolls outward beyond us.

      A friend was recently trying to lure me to another company with tales of a great culture, fancy resume-friendly titles and high earnings potential. A different version of me would have jumped at the chance to make a big splash. Imagine the splash on LinkedIn when I posted that change? But this version of me sees the folly in that plunge. I’ll take the quiet ripple, thank you. To be present and engaged in this place and time with those who mean the most is everything.

      Purpose seems such a lofty word for the average person. We conjure up heroic images—characters who transcend the routine and lead to us to salvation. The idea of a purpose can be a trap disguised as a compass heading. The trap is in forever looking elsewhere for true north, when it’s usually whispering in our ear all along.

      What’s it all about, Alfie?
      Is it just for the moment we live?
      — Burt Bacharach, Alfie

      The right it transforms us. The wrong it has us running around in circles. Life is short and yes, time flies. We have no time to waste chasing the wrong cause when the essential is right there waiting for us.

      We spend far too much time trying to find a higher purpose and not nearly enough embracing the essential truth we encounter along the way. It’s all about being there for those who mean the most to us in our time. As infuriating as it might feel for those who haven’t yet found it, trust in the process: we know what to live for when we find it. When we give of ourselves to the right people that love is reflected back to us.

    • A Moment with Eugene’s Birds

      Nay, I will; that’s flat:
      He said he would not ransom Mortimer;
      Forbad my tongue to speak of Mortimer; 555
      But I will find him when he lies asleep,
      And in his ear I’ll holla ‘Mortimer!’
      Nay,
      I’ll have a starling shall be taught to speak
      Nothing but ‘Mortimer,’ and give it him 560
      To keep his anger still in motion.
      — William Shakespeare, Henry IV, Part 1

      In 1890, a man named Eugene Schieffelin brought European starlings to the United States. According to The New York Times, his motive apparently was to have all the bird species mentioned by William Shakespeare in America. So I have Eugene and a single name drop by Shakespeare in Henry IV to thank for the mess that starlings leave in their wake when they come to the bird feeders in my backyard. We ought to be more careful introducing invasive species to places where they never existed, but when has common sense ever directed anything that humans do?

      You learn a lot about the local bird population when you put the right variety of food out for them. I lived in my home for almost twenty years before I saw bluebirds visit the feeders, largely inspired by putting food they’d actually eat in the feeders. From that point on I’ve had an abundance of bluebirds. The starlings were never invited to the party, but they’re masters at crashing it anyway. Perhaps that’s why they call them invasive.

      This winter I brought the feeders back close the house, that we may enjoy the view of wild birds just outside the window. I forget sometimes the mess that comes with feeders in the form of bird droppings and seed shells, but it’s the uninvited guests like starlings, squirrels and rodents that make me question my sanity. But the birds are worth it. Even the squirrels are entertaining, and I give them just enough of a head start before I let the dog out that they stand a chance of escaping (there are some messes I don’t want to deal with).

      Winter isn’t what it once was, but we do have snow again. The bird feeders become very popular when the ground is coated in snow. The buffet is open for business, and as the movie line goes, build it and they will come. And really, that’s the point. When I go into the kitchen for a cup of coffee or tea, I look out in the yard and see life. Life in turns inspires me to be more lively myself, and the work benefits from my time with the birds. I suppose that’s worth a bit of mess from a couple of uninvited guests.

    • Easier vs. Harder

      “Hard choices, easy life. Easy choices, hard life.” ― Jerzy Gregorek

      It’s easier to defer. I’ve been deferring a project for two years that I’ve done twice before and know deep down just how time-consuming it will be for me. But I also recall just how fun it was to do, and how much pride I had in the finished product once complete. Yet I watch the time tick away, days turn into months, months pile into a couple of years now and counting. And what was once a small project is growing into an albatross around my neck.

      The easiest way to start a hard project is to simply begin with the first step. The next step will become apparent, and it turns out it’s not all that big a step. Which brings to mind a holiday tune that may be out of season but never fully out of my brain:

      You never will get where you’re going
      If ya never get up on your feet
      Come on, there’s a good tail wind blowin’
      A fast walking man is hard to beat
      Put one foot in front of the other
      And soon you’ll be walking ‘cross the floor
      — Jules Bass, Put One Foot in Front of the Other

      This blog is a good example in my own life of something that was nagging at me for years before I simply began. One post turned into many, and soon I began a streak that is well past two thousand. Some posts are better than others, but the journey is clearly towards improvement and progression. We are what we repeatedly do, as I repeatedly quote, as much a reminder to myself as to the reader, who is generally a step ahead of me on the concept.

      We began one project this weekend that had been nagging me for years. I mentioned it to my bride, she immediately agreed (relieved no doubt that I’d finally decided to take action) and we’ll finish it this weekend. It turns out the project isn’t as painful as thinking about doing the project. Which brings us full circle back to that albatross I referenced earlier. Now that the one project is done, the other remains, mocking me for the time it’s taking to just leap. Just decide and get to it already.

      The thing is, there will always be projects when we consistently move forward in our lives. The only people without projects are those who choose to linger in the identity they once had. Life is hard enough without us getting in our own way. It will be a whole lot easier in the long run if we do the hard work now.


    • Ageless Wonders

      “Tempus fugit is a good one,” she said, “but time doesn’t always fly, as everyone who’s ever had to wait around for something knows. I think tempus estumbra in mente is a better one. Roughly translated, it means time is a shadow in the mind.” ― Stephen King, Fairy Tale

      We all want to overachieve in life. We all have the agency to put in the work to reach certain goals. No, we can’t have it all, but we can have some things that we focus on more than any other thing. We may choose a lifestyle that enables greatness in specific areas of focus. So much is attainable in a lifetime when we keep our focus.

      Nothing hammers home the idea of time flying like a reunion. The people who were not all that far ahead of you seem older and more frail. The young bucks who were coming up right behind you seem much older too. And a look at the pictures reveals that we’re right there with them all. Tempus fugit: time flies. And so it goes with youth.

      That doesn’t make us old and frail. A decline in health makes us old and frail. There are people at a reunion who seem to be ageless wonders. They’re exercising, eating well, they don’t drink in excess and generally live the kind of lifestyle we all hear is our best bet for a long, vibrant lifetime. We all know the examples, and with the right choices, sometimes we’re the example ourselves.

      “The time to repair the roof is when the sun is shining.” — John F. Kennedy

      We know the path. We know the exceptions. We know how it all ends someday. That doesn’t mean we have to accept declining health and a long slog to the grave. When we build a foundation of fitness and good nutrition, we too may be the ageless wonders at the reunions of the future.

      A strong foundation is built on our habits and routines. When we read every day, we become well-read and more insightful. When we brush our teeth and floss every day, we aren’t scolded by the dentist and have fewer cavities. And when we eat well and exercise more than the average, we are more likely to stand out from the average as an ageless wonder ourselves. If nothing else, it makes that look in the mirror feel less like a trip to the dentist.

      Time is a shadow in the mind. We don’t all age the same, and we have some control over the path we take. Choose wisely, that we may have many reunions to come.