Alexandersmap

    Category: Lifestyle

    • Slow Down

      Slow down, you move too fast
      You got to make the morning last
      Just kicking down the cobblestones
      Looking for fun and feelin’ groovy
      — Simon & Garfunkel, The 59th Street Bridge Song (Feelin’ Groovy)

      I had a college philosophy professor who used to mock this song in class, for all is not groovy in the world and we must be aware of that fact. But I keep coming back to the lyrics, slow down, you move too fast, and recognize the truth in them. Time is flying past, and we must slow down and have a look before it’s gone forever. Tempus fugit indeed.

      Awareness is the goal, not grooviness. It’s cool to be groovy, it’s vital to be aware. For our vitality is wrapped up in being here in this moment, making the most of it before it’s gone. This is us, we are here (but not for long). Groove on that for a while.

      Looking around, I see I have way too much on my plate. But before you preach to me about taking my own advice, recognize what I have seen: that this is a temporary condition of a productive life, and this phase will pass soon enough. Amor fati. Make the moment last, such that it is, but be sure to slow down too. That would be groovy.

    • Steeping in This

      To live a full life seems to be the goal for many of us. “Full” denotes an expansive, experience-rich life. That seems appealing to those who wish to see the world, read much of a rich library, roam the hallways of the greatest museums, or thrill to the bucket list items available to many of us in a free society.

      The alternative is to live a simple life, full in its own immersive way, with daily rituals, familiar and trusted friends and family, and work we can gently hang up at the door as we walk in to greet our family. In a maddening world such as ours, doesn’t it feel comforting to live a life filled with a strong sense of place, community and predictability? There’s richness in ritual. Take the teabag out of the cup before it’s had a chance to steep and we’re left with weak tea. It ought to linger a while before being plucked out for a quick sip.

      Which is the better life? Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. What is clear is that trying to have both dilutes the experience of either. Wherever we are, we ought to be all in in that lifestyle. Not just physically present, but also not scheming some escape plan. Be here, now. Or be there. Not forever in limbo between the two.

      Steep on that a while.

    • Pinus Strobus

      “How much of this invisible dust must be floating in the atmosphere, and be inhaled and drunk by us at this season! Who knows but the pollen of some plants may be unwholesome to inhale, and produce the diseases of the season?” — Henry David Thoreau

      For all my love of the outdoors, there are a few weeks a years that tax the soul. We’re in the thick of it now: pollen season. Specifically, the pollen of the white pine tree, which expels clouds of pollen that coats everything vomit green with a tinge of phlegm yellow.

      Now I know that statement has a negative connotation, because it’s absolutely meant to, but that doesn’t mean I hold a grudge against the trees. They were here first. I think that I should go instead. Buy a boat and sail away from green clouds to experience blue water.

      Trees are rooted to place. Humans are built to move. Preferably somewhere beyond the reach of Pinus Strobus.

    • Life is Conditional

      Can you hear me?
      That when it rains and shines
      It’s just a state of mind
      Can you hear me?
      — The Beatles, Rain

      Up and out early this morning for all the wrong reasons, the rain was pouring down in sheets. Hydroplaning was an issue, and the ride out and back again was stressful. Rain and driving is completely different from rain and sipping coffee while listening to it tap on the roof and windows. Place matters when it rains.

      So too does state of mind, as John Lennon reminded us in one of my favorite Beatles songs. Our attitude is everything, in all things. Can you hear me? Well, most everything. The rain doesn’t care a lick what our attitude is, and we ought to be grounded in reality if we hope to thrive (or survive) the current circumstances.

      Amor fati (Love of fate). Life is conditional, after all. We don’t have to love the weather or the people currently in power or the performance of our favorite sports team, but we should accept it for what it is. This is our fate. Denial is a prison sentence for the weakest of minds. Accept what is and decide how to react. Rain or shine, whatever will be will be. The question is, what are we to do now?

    • Our Ever After

      “Whoever is too well off always wants to try something different!” — Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, The Mouse, the Bird, and the Sausage

      This strange little fairy tale about a bird, mouse and a sausage living together is undeniably odd (beginning with the sausage), yet it carries important lessons. When did we stop paying attention to the lessons? Adults always forget them, which is why the world feels that it’s a step or two away from disaster. Yet somehow we carry on anyway.

      For those inclined not to follow random links in blog posts, the lesson is essentially the quote above. And maybe to not let your sausage friend wander around in the woods. Or to choose friends that aren’t so tasty to others. Really, the lessons are where you find them. But for our purposes, let’s stick with the quote above.

      There’s a whole lot of people who are so comfortable in their lives that they feel compelled to find things to be outraged about. Call it smug indignation if you like. We’ve learn who they are because they’re inclined to tell us just how terrible things are. Life is outrageous. Life is unfair. Don’t we deserve better than this?

      Life will eat us alive one day (Memento mori). We ought to know that by now. Just what are we going to do about it? It’s all a matter of focus. Instead of scarcity and unfairness, why not try gratitude for what is going well for us today. Tomorrow will take care of itself. If we arrive there to see it.

      Being grateful and content with where we are is something we grow into as we experience life. The restlessness of our youth may be replaced by the wisdom of our age. At least if we stop listening to talking heads telling us how outraged we ought to be. Life is nothing but a big fairy tale. We believe the stories we want to believe, and that largely determines whether we’ll live happily ever after. In case anyone missed the lesson, our ever after is largely up to us.

    • Just Passing By

      “Hoping to live days of greater happiness, I forget that days of less happiness are passing by.” — Elizabeth Bishop

      The lilacs are almost past. A couple of unusually hot days sent them on their way. They’re on the path to just a memory, like all of us, really. Were it only possible that we all smelled as good in our dance with daylight. Alas, we each bloom in our own way.

      Every word I type delays the inevitable. There’s yard work to be done, and looking around, there aren’t a lot of volunteers lined up for it. It looks like I’m at the front of the line. In fact, I am the line. The fact of the matter is, I like to work even as I grumble about it sometimes.

      It’s not just the work—there’s living to be done while doing it. Dreams of a better tomorrow waste the ripe potential of today. We’re all just passing by the moments one after the other. So have a look around, and don’t forget to smell the lilacs.

    • Everything, Forever

      Turn, turn, my wheel! All things must change
      To something new, to something strange;
      Nothing that is can pause or stay;
      The moon will wax, the moon will wane,
      The mist and cloud will turn to rain,
      The rain to mist and cloud again,
      To-morrow be to-day.
      — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Kéramos

      I considered yesterday an ending of sorts, which infers that today would be a beginning. But it feels like more of the same. Life is change, but that change is so constant and incremental that it feels like every day is the just like the one before. Have a look around and we know the truth. Nothing is the same. Beginning with our perspective. We’ve simply moved to a newer place from which to assess our perch.

      Still, nothing is the same, nor will be again. We live and learn and grow, and tomorrow will be today, and then it will be no more but a memory of yesterday. The lesson? Our opportunity is always at hand. Don’t look so far ahead. We are where we are, and everything forever is right here awaiting our attention.

      All things must change. Beginning with us. Rise to meet it.

    • The Right Choice

      “If you feel like you’ve got a close call between quitting and persevering, it’s likely that quitting is the better choice.” — Annie Duke

      When we say that we listen to our gut, or trust our instincts, do we really? What is our gut telling us right now? Chances are our head will intervene and direct us right back to the logical path. Logical is what the brain is supposed to choose.

      But what if the gut was right all along?

    • Pass the Pasta

      Such cheap foodstuffs as rice, potatoes, and pasta lend themselves to being consumed in quantity and shared with the entire family, even the community. It’s prosperity that brings the arrogance of small portions. As incomes rise, grease and starch disappear, replaced by fatless protein, a few spoonfuls of green vegetables, a delicately sculpted potato—food prepared with an eye more to appearance than gratification.” — John Baxter, Five Nights in Paris

      Americans have no problem with small portions. We fill our plates to overflowing. This is a visual indicator that we’re getting value for our money. Burgers need toothpicks to stay together from the kitchen to the table, french fries and pasta spill over the edge of the plate. The plate inspires a wow and maybe a little envy from those who ordered something else.

      Naturally, there are implications to all this food. Those of us trained from an early age to finish everything on the plate have a tax of weight gain and calorie-burning activity to contend with. We train ourselves to order the salad, which itself is often a heaping mass of intrigue. Choosing to eat out less and make our own meals is naturally a healthier way to eat. The trade-off then becomes increased isolation. Breaking bread together creates bonds. So too does pickle ball, I hear.

      Baxter’s comment about the arrogance of small portions is directed towards the fancy restaurants serving microscopic portions that look amazing but don’t satiate. It’s a great line that draws one’s attention. I wish I’d written it myself. But I see both sides of the plate (if you will). People pay for experience, not for a full belly. It’s akin to going to the museum to view fine art instead of going to the ballgame. Is it arrogant to go to one or the other? Both have their place in an enriching life, in proper portions. The arrogance comes in judging what someone else is doing because it’s not what we would do ourselves.

      The great observation Baxter makes isn’t about arrogance, it’s about using cheaper food, like rice, pasta and potatoes, as the foundation of building community. We don’t have to be wealthy to come together, we just have to be inclined to do so. The wealthy are some of the loneliest people on the planet because they shelter in place in their gated “communities” or McMansions. The real wealth in a full life is in connection. So please pass the pasta.

    • Everything Matters

      “Most of us would be seized with fear if our bodies went numb, and would do everything possible to avoid it, yet we take no interest in the numbing of our souls.” — Epictetus

      I made the mistake of reading a work email this morning before writing the blog. It was sent at midnight last night by a senior leader in the company, asking a follow-up question about a meeting last week. It lingers in my mind for having not followed up immediately, and so I gently nudge it over to the side, where it will distract me until acted upon.

      Mondays should not be soul-crushing events. No day should crush the soul, but especially the beginning of our work week. We choose how we react to the forces coming at us. Monday will come and go just like any other day in our deck of days. Shuffle them up, dump them out and have a look—they’re all roughly the same. Do with them what we will.

      That doesn’t mean each of our days aren’t special. They’re all miracles of chance, after all. We ought to see that gift for what it is and seek answers for our series of questions. Who are we? What will become of us next? Where did I put my car keys?

      Our deck of available days shrinks in size as our deck of experience grows. That thing that’s nagging at us to get done in one aspect of our life is distracting us from excelling in some other thing. That great memory over the weekend offers a happy glow to warm the first task of the work week. It’s all connected, it’s all the sum of our days and influences the balance available to us. The answer is to keep raising the average by adding better days to our deck to balance the more challenging ones.

      For the last few months I’ve been going to physical therapy on my ankle. I’ve seen encouraging improvement on the ankle, but noticed in the treatment that their focus on the ankle has expanded beyond it to the rest of my leg and my back alignment. We know intuitively that it’s all connected, but sometimes we need someone to show us how the tightness in one place is related to the injury in the other. Everything matters.

      Knowing that, just how does it change our perspective on today?