Alexandersmap

    Category: Lifestyle

    • To Be Alive

      “The meaning of life is just to be alive. It is so plain and so obvious and so simple. And yet, everybody rushes around in a great panic as if it were necessary to achieve something beyond them.” — Alan Watts

      “The sound of the rain needs no translation. In music one doesn’t make the end of the composition the point of the composition. Same way in dancing, you don’t aim at one particular spot in the room… The whole point of dancing is the dance.” — Alan Watts

      If there were ever a counterargument to an overt focus on productivity and shipping our work every day, it would be these two quotes (and just about every Thoreau quote I draw upon). Life is about the dance, not about arriving at a place. To be alive is the whole point. Knowing that, how are we doing? Do we greet today as a new song to dance to, or as “Monday”? If every day is a new song, what do we hear when we wake up? Do we go immediately to our to-do list or simply begin to dance?

      Happy Monday.

    • Outward Expression

      “I feel as if my life had grown more outward when I can express it.”
      ― Henry David Thoreau,       A Week on the Concord and Merrimack Rivers

      There’s a tricky thing in writing—deep introspection is conveyed through outward expression. When you read a lot you stumble on some deeply damaged characters who had the courage to put it all out there on paper for others to see. I’ve mined myself similarly, but I don’t have the deep scars that others seem to have. Blame it on a good family growing up, but the fuel for the writing isn’t to draw out the pain of the past but rather to tap into the experience and intense gratitude of being alive at this time. That doesn’t mean there aren’t scars, how does anyone live an unsheltered life without scars? That which you once were is a memory that haunts you or spurs you towards becoming a better person. I’ve long ago buried the character I hated in myself, though he keeps trying to crawl out of his grave.

      Decide what to be and go be it.

      There’s a feeling that comes over you when you decide what to be. It’s like a magnet that pulls you in the direction you want to go in. My sailor and hiker friends know this, for it relentlessly pulls them towards their True North. I smile when someone questions why someone would put all their eggs in one basket. If you haven’t found your basket you can’t possibly know why others do what they do.

      “I don’t want to swim in a roped off sea.” — Jimmy Buffett, Cowboy in the Jungle

      We all have our calling. Do we listen to it or to the helpful guidance of others? When you find that direction, killing time on other things feels like you’re strangling yourself. Urgency and purpose demand your attention. The only way forward is deliberate action. Growing outward requires we stretch ourselves beyond what we once were, and then to keep doing it over and over again. To reach out towards where we want to be often means pulling away from what we once were.

    • What You Drift Away From

      My spouse recently deprioritized potato chips and Diet Coke from her life. For me, I could pass the rest of my days without ever consuming either of them, but for her these were a big part of her eating ritual. You make a sandwich for lunch, you need something crunchy and salty with it. And of course something to wash it down with. Dropping each was hard for her but she’s finding her stride.

      I’ve got my own demons. A love of great cheese, pasta, rice and beer — wonderful foods that I’ve largely eradicated from my life in 2022. In previous years I used to have cheat days where I’d eat all of this stuff in a binge of epic proportions. Now I let things drift away. I’ll have an occasional beer with friends, and I’ll sprinkle a bit of grated cheese on a meal now and then, but surprisingly I don’t miss it much.

      Food in this way is like old friends you don’t see anymore, you just fill the void with other things that bring you delight. Jennifer Senior wrote an article called It’s your Friends Who Break Your Heart in the latest edition of The Atlantic that speaks to the drifting away of friends in your life. We’ve all experienced it: In school or in your career you collect friendships. When you’re a parent of active children you tend to collect fellow collaborators who become friends. It’s only when the nest empties and a pandemic grabs a couple of years of your life that you look around and find that only a small core group remains. The great reckoning of what’s really important in your life is a harsh judge.

      I have long work relationships that fell away like a bag of chips with lunch. I have some people in my life that I haven’t talked to since it became clear how different our worldviews were on science and politics. Friendships of convenience always drift away with physical or emotional distance. The ones that stand the test of time are honed on common interests, deep roots and a shared commitment to keeping it going.

      Lately I’ve been struggling with my daily rituals. The morning has always been about writing, but work increasingly pulls at me, prompting me to cut short my writing and jump into the fray. The workouts and long walks became a casualty too frequently. This won’t do. We become what we prioritize, and you must fold positive habits into your daily life or you’ll eventually find yourself overweight, unproductive, uneducated and void of meaningful relationships.

      We are what we repeatedly do.

      You are what you eat.

      We are the sum of the five people we hang around with the most.

      There’s truth in these statements, which is why we all know them by heart. So why don’t we do more to prioritize the positive actions, food and people in our daily lives? I believe it’s because we all live in a whirlwind, and sometimes it just feels easier to turn on the television and distract yourself with other people’s problems than to deal with your own. Grab a bag of chips and beer while you’re at it. Habits and rituals work both ways. We’re either improving our lot or slipping sideways down the cliff. You just don’t notice it right away until there’s some tangible negative momentum in your slide.

      Maybe the answer really is all things in moderation. But you know even saying that that it isn’t really true. The real truth is some things in moderation, some things not at all. Some things in abundance, and nothing in excess. We ought to stop drifting through the whirlwind of life and decide what brings you closer to who you want to become. In doing so, we must allow some things to drift silently away from us. And hold on to other things for dear life.

    • Life’s Incessant Aspiration

      “I tell you that as long as I can conceive something better than myself I cannot be easy unless I am striving to bring it into existence or clearing the way for it. That is the law of my life. That is the working within me of Life’s incessant aspiration to higher organization, wider, deeper, intenser self-consciousness, and clearer self-understanding.” — George Bernard Shaw, Man and Superman

      I understand old George, for I’m right with him on this point. When we hear the siren, when we strive for something better than ourselves, we begin a lifetime process of chipping away at the stubborn facade that hides that potential deep inside. What we don’t quite realize when we begin is just how tough a journey this can be. For it takes a lifetime, and even then some, for we never quite reach what we aspire to, do we?

      “I saw the angel in the marble and carved until I set him free.” – Michelangelo

      Is it any wonder most people just skate in their lane? Who needs to lump more pressure on themselves when we can just enjoy where we are? Well-meaning friends and family remind you to keep your blinders on and stick with what brought you here. We experience this most deeply in work, where we’re often thought of as who we were when we walked in the door, not who we become as we grow and learn. Isn’t that why so many change jobs?

      We aren’t salmon in a fish farm, we have streams and oceans to explore! We have an opportunity—an obligation—to reinvent ourselves daily. To reach for something better than ourselves in all that we do. Life is a short game, unfair and fickle. We’ll all leave something on the table in the end. Don’t let it be that which means the most. Aspire for that which you might be, and do the work to set it free.

    • Bluebirds in Winter (Playing the Long Game)

      Many moons I have lived
      My body’s weathered and worn
      Ask yourself how old you’d be
      If you didn’t know the day you were born
      Try to love on your wife
      And stay close to your friends
      Toast each sundown with wine
      And don’t let the old man in
      — Written by Toby Keith/sung by Willie Nelson, Don’t Let the Old Man In

      There are few things more beautiful than a bluebird set against snow on a brilliant, sunny day. But bluebirds don’t just randomly show up to brighten your snowy landscape. If you want bluebirds in winter you’ve got to give them a compelling reason to visit. The work starts in the longer and warmer days establishing a consistent and reliable place for them, to be rewarded when the days grow shorter.

      Age is an attitude. Sure, you might make a case for the gradual breakdown of the body, but with consistent effort you can control the rate with which the body breaks down. There are plenty of voices out there pointing towards habits and social norms dictating our long term health and vibrancy, not the number of trips around the sun. We all know people who defy expectations about age, bouncing around well into their 90’s and beyond. And we can rattle off examples of people who died too young, with the wheels coming off at a shockingly young age.

      We know there are no guarantees in this world, but barring accident or underlying hereditary conditions, when we die often comes back to how we live. Which makes you think, as you see the days fly by, how are you going to play this hand? What are the habits and norms that are going to dictate how we feel when we wake up tomorrow morning, or how we feel in five years? What can we do today to feel better in ten years than we feel now? Shouldn’t we focus on doing more of that?

      If we want to play the long game, we ought to walk away from the short term temptations that compromise our fitness tomorrow. Eat well, drink less, move more, experience something new every day and spend time with friends and loved ones. The long game means putting our bodies and minds in the best possible position to meet the future.

      Remember the old expression: The best time to plant a tree was twenty years ago. The second best time is right now. What are you building towards? Best to get started today. Plant that tree. It’ll give you a place to hang the bluebird feeder.

    • The Proof Will Be In Your Living

      “I don’t know what that means. To truly live.’…
      ‘To find work that you love and work harder than other men. To learn languages of the earth, and love the sounds of the words and the things they describe. To love food and music and drink. Fully love them. To love weather, and storms, and the smell of rain. To love heat. To love cold. To love sleep and dreams. To love the newness of each day.’
      He stared at his hands.
      ‘To love women. To pleasure them. To make them laugh. To be foolish for them. To respect them. To listen to them’ He paused. ‘They are the lifegivers. To live is to love them’
      ‘You will see,’ he said. ‘The proof will be in your living”
      ― Pete Hamill, Forever

      Forever is one of those books that I’ve come back to a few times, and I celebrate the magic Pete Hamill weaves into the novel. We must weave magic into our own lives, mustn’t we? Books do that for us, even when the world itself doesn’t always measure up.

      I’ve returned to reading the stack of fiction that’s been mocking my time with business and history books. I give a nod here to Forever, but my attention is on novels new to me that spin their own magic. Perhaps I’ll quote them in the blog, but certainly I’ll learn something from each writer’s style. What is your writing style? And is there enough magic weaved in to transform the reader?

      The central character in Forever is a man named Cormac O’Connor who comes to New York City and lives forever as long as he doesn’t leave the island of Manhattan. When you live forever you get a chance to accumulate experiences and languages, master a musical instrument or two, navigate a few relationships from beginning to end, and reinvent yourself every new day. There’s joy and pain inherent in watching people come and go in your life, there’s accumulated wisdom of bringing each day’s lesson home with you.

      You and I won’t live forever. But we too can accumulate our share of experiences and celebrate the newness of each day. We too can weave magic into our lives. Ultimately, the proof will be in our living.

    • Meaningful Todays

      “So imprudent are we that we wander in the times which are not ours, and do not think of the only one which belongs to us; and so idle are we that we dream of those times which are no more, and thoughtlessly overlook that which alone exists.” – Blaise Pascal

      Pascal died at the age of 39. His measure of time that was his was relatively short compared to the average lifespan today. But we all know the deal. No guarantees about tomorrow and all that. You may have read a blog post or two from this writer about it along the way.

      Shah-la, la-la-la-la live for today
      And don’t worry ’bout tomorrow hey, hey, hey
      — The Grass Roots, Let’s Live For Today

      Sure, let’s live for today, and make the most of it, but remember to hedge our bets about tomorrow. Don’t throw away your future being reckless with today, but also remember not to be reckless with today by staking all your hopes on a future that could fall away in a second. Make the most of this moment at hand, while keeping the 401(k) in the back pocket.

      Have you ever stood next to someone who radiated energy? Fully alive, vibrant, aware of the moment—living in the moment. Not delusional about the challenges life throws at you, but also not pissing it away in drudgery or low agency. Instead they dance with life. Grab the moment and make something memorable and meaningful of it. String together as many meaningful todays as you can muster. That’s not drudgery, that’s purposeful.

      Stick with what that which is ours alone. Live it with a gleam in your eye and a thirst for adventure. Making the most of what we have in this moment. Sounds a bit more fun than deferring to tomorrow, doesn’t it?

    • Can’t See the Open Road

      Mellow is the man who knows what he’s been missing
      Many, many men can’t see the open road
      — Led Zeppelin, Over the Hills and Far Away

      Huddled in a group at an Irish pub, four men scheming for the future: one free of obligations and ready to roam, one surfing the peak of his career and working to cash in before it crashes, one just riding the swell and hoping this time—this time— he’d caught the right wave, and me, a would-be writer and wanderer observing the human condition. I’m surfing my own wave, of course, but don’t we all dream of coming about, hoisting the main and sailing away instead?

      “We labour at our daily work more ardently and thoughtlessly than is necessary to sustain our life because it is even more necessary not to have leisure to stop and think. Haste is universal because everyone is in flight from himself.” ― Friedrich Nietzsche, Untimely Meditations

      Nowadays we can all see what we’ve been missing in YouTube videos, Instagram and Facebook posts, or wherever you choose to live vicariously through the lens of others. My own favorite footage often involves drones flying above stunning landscapes, as if I were flying myself. And don’t we all wish to fly?

      But the question is, do we wish to fly away from something or towards something? For life is short and we can’t waste our precious time running away from ourselves. Yet so many do, in distraction and debauchery and debate. It’s easy to run away, but impossible to really get away from that nagging discontent.

      Old friend Henry David Thoreau pointed out that “the mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation.” He would also say that, “So thoroughly and sincerely are we compelled to live, reverencing our life, and denying the possibility of change. This is the only way, we say; but there are as many ways as there can be drawn radii from one centre. All change is a miracle to contemplate; but it is a miracle which is taking place every instant.”

      In other words, life is change, everything is changing around us even as we debate what we ought to do with ourselves. Which brings me back to a constant refrain: We must decide what to be and go be it. And be content with that which we leave behind.

    • Make the Ordinary Come Alive

      Do not ask your children
      to strive for extraordinary lives.
      Such striving may seem admirable,
      but it is the way of foolishness.
      Help them instead to find the wonder
      and the marvel of an ordinary life.
      Show them the joy of tasting
      tomatoes, apples and pears.
      Show them how to cry
      when pets and people die.
      Show them the infinite pleasure
      in the touch of a hand.
      And make the ordinary come alive for them.
      The extraordinary will take care of itself.
      William Martin, Do not ask your children to strive

      Sleet and freezing rain tap against the windows. It’s not a day to be outside in the elements, and yet I consider the consequences of a walk. We take the world as it comes to us, make of it what we can, celebrate the ordinary and find the magic where we may.

      Celebrating ordinary isn’t what the world highlights. Everyone is hyper-focused on placing themselves in the most extraordinary places, doing the most extraordinary things, living their “best life” (whatever that means when you stop to think about it). Perhaps our focus should be on the moment at hand, wherever we might be.

      I celebrate waking up this morning, hearing that tap, tap, tap of the rain and sleet and the roof over my head that makes it all seem so far away. I celebrate the conversations I’ve had with those I love, listening to how their day went, and celebrating with them the moments that made their ordinary more alive. I celebrate the quiet in an often chaotic world, removing myself from the noise but listening for the voice of those in need.

      Life is infinite pleasure when you focus on the small joys. Life is more realized when we wrestle with our pain and loss and setbacks. Each moment informs, when we are taught to see. Learning to savor our ordinary vitality is the path to a magical life. A life worthy of our short dose of days.

    • Strategic, Interested Experiencing

      “When people stop believing in an afterlife, everything depends on making the most of this life. And when people start believing in progress—in the idea that history is headed toward an ever more perfect future—they feel far more acutely the pain of their own little lifespan, which condemns them to missing out on almost all of that future. And so they try to quell their anxieties by cramming their lives with experience.” — Oliver Burkeman, Four Thousand Weeks: Time Management for Mortals

      Burkeman’s statement isn’t something you just fly by without contemplation. I have people in my life who would be indignant about the very idea of there being no afterlife. You might say I’m more open to the concept. But no matter what your belief about what happens next, most would agree in the concept of the infinite unknown. It was here before we were conceived and began our march through borrowed time, and it will envelope us again sooner than we’re comfortable with thinking about. Really, it’s all around us, we’re just stubbornly alive beings bumping up against infinity every day until we rejoin it. Giddy-Up.

      We get busy in life, marching through our days and obligations. I was just thinking to myself that I’m a bit short on micro-adventures lately. Blame it on my day job running parallel to this blog. I have a few friends that question my sanity for trading so many of my four thousand weeks for a career. But life is more than chasing waterfalls and sunsets. You’ve got to make something of your time, don’t you? Or do you need to do something in your time? Can you do both? Can we really have it all?

      Burkeman recommends “strategic underachievement”, which is simply “nominating in advance whole areas of life in which you won’t expect excellence of yourself” to mitigate the underlying stress of living for both commitments and experience. Focus on what you want to excel in, and gently put the rest aside on the priority list—placing the not-so-important stuff into tomorrow is a gentle way of punting what doesn’t really matter in this brash act of living life on our own terms.

      “Tomorrow is for the lazy mind, the sluggish mind, the mind that is not interested” — Jiddu Krishnamurti

      The answer, I believe, is to focus on the things that make you feel most alive, things that put you right in the mix of a fulfilling, satisfying life. That might be a sunset in the tropics or washing the dishes with your favorite song playing louder than it should. Embracing the mundane and the remarkable as it comes, but prioritizing that which places you squarely where you might maximize these experiences. We ought to decide what we want to savor most, and what to let fall away.

      Let’s face it, passively waiting for life experiences to come your way leads to a whole lot of waiting. Strategic underachievement in one area of your life means you’ve got to proactively work to strategically overachieve in other areas. Be interested in this business of living! Get up off your passive expectations about living and go out and meet the things you most want to achieve, be and do in this short life. Not so much “cramming experience”, but rather, strategic, and interested, experiencing. Wherever we might be.