Alexandersmap

    Category: Lifestyle

    • Honorable Isn’t Easy

      “Tiger, one day you will come to a fork in the road and you’re going to have to make a decision about which direction you want to go. He raised his hand and pointed. “If you go that way you can be somebody. You will have to make compromises and you will have to turn your back on your friends. But you will be a member of the club and you will get promoted and you will get good assignments.” Then Boyd raised his other hand and pointed in another direction. “Or you can go that way and you can do something- something for your country and for your Air Force and for yourself. If you decide you want to do something, you may not get promoted and you may not get the good assignments and you certainly will not be a favorite of your superiors. But you won’t have to compromise yourself. You will be true to your friends and to yourself. And your work might make a difference. To be somebody or to do something. In life there is often a roll call. That’s when you will have to make a decision. To be or to do? Which way will you go?”
      ― attributed to John Boyd by Robert Coram, Boyd: The Fighter Pilot Who Changed the Art of War

      It’s not easy to be something in this world. Playing the part infers acting in a way—a way that might seem counterintuitive to who we are in our core. The alternative to being something is doing something: backing up our words with meaningful action. To do the work that matters, that we know deep down to be the right thing. And to stick with our principles no matter what. Follow the vision, roll up our sleeves and live to a standard of honor and personal excellence. Surely, this is something to aspire to. But also a harder path.

      The thing is, we all are pulled in both directions every day. Life is friction; with other people and with ourselves. Who wants to follow someone else’s dream at the expense of our own? I once had a coach who wore a t-shirt with the quote: “If you’re not the lead dog the view never changes”. I didn’t think to question why exactly I was following this particular character for as long as I did. Surely, my view didn’t change for longer than it ought to have been so. It’s easy to into the trap of falling in line. Breaking free eventually changed my view and my belief in what was possible.

      “Decide what to be and go be it.” — Head Full of Doubt/Road Full of Promise, The Avett Brothers

      To be or to do… Is there a contradiction in choosing who to be? I don’t believe so. Doing is the real-time implementation of our decision of who we want to be in this lifetime. Boyd chose to be the person who held the line on his integrity and honor, focusing on work that mattered most instead of chasing prestige and accolades. The irony is that his legacy is far larger than if he’d simply fallen in line. To make a ripple we must break the surface tension of complacency.

      To live an honorable life means living without compromising our core beliefs. That begins with deciding who we will be when faced with the choices life throws at us. So what will our legacy be? Living up to that identity is our challenge from cradle to grave. Honorable isn’t easy, but the view in the mirror is better.

    • On Ritual and Routine

      “Be a good steward of your gifts. Protect your time. Feed your inner life. Avoid too much noise. Read good books, have good sentences in your ears. Be by yourself as often as you can. Walk. Take the phone off the hook. Work regular hours.” — Jane Kenyon

      Last year my bride and I took a morning walk on a quiet beach in the off-season. We saw an older gentleman swimming with his dogs in the brisk Atlantic Ocean and met him as we were walking back towards our car. Well, as is usually the case, his dogs met us first, and he joined them in introductions soon after. He looked like Obi-Wan Kenobi in a thick, hooded robe. He mentioned that he took this Atlantic Ocean plunge with his dogs every day of the year, no matter the weather. The robe and the walk back home were his rewards for completing this ritual, and were thus an integral part of it. His fitness level and radiance betrayed a lifestyle worthy of consideration.

      Lately I’ve thought more of lifestyle design—of deliberately choosing how to spend my remaining time on this earth in daily ritual and routine. We might agree that we’re already living our lives based solely on the bookends of ritual and routine. The question is, are we optimizing our life or should we build better bookends? Is writing first thing in the morning the best use of this time? Or is a long walk better? Or a brisk plunge into cold water? The answer is whatever sets the table for an exceptional day—what comes first should hardly matter, just that we do the things that, stacked together, make up a productive and meaningful day, and by extension, our life.

      We tend to track things like workouts, but don’t always track other things that make up our days. Tracking habits makes sense when you’re trying to establish or reinforce them. I began flossing every day when I stared at an empty box one day, knowing I’d broken the streak. A friend quit smoking simply so he didn’t have to leave a day on his calendar without a big X through it. We forget sometimes in our realization that we can’t control everything that we can control some things. And these small things, added up over time, become big things indeed.

      The way to be a good steward of our gifts is to protect our time in ritual and routine. Kenyon outlines hers in the magical quote above. We might add a few others that punctuate our own days. The trick in building these bookends is to fill the space in between with more activity worthy of our precious time. We know that that space will be filled either way—shouldn’t we make it fulfilling?

      Plunge into things that optimize your days

    • What Things, Accomplished?

      “The fact of the matter is that aiming discipline at the right habit gives you license to be less disciplined in other areas. When you do the right thing, it can liberate you from having to monitor everything.” — Gary Keller, The One Thing

      Doing the right thing begins with knowing what the right thing is, of course. Keller points out that that right thing ought to be our one thing we prioritize in a day. Not the only thing we focus on, mind you, but the box we must check before we move on to other things. His recommendation is time blocking, and working on it until you’ve achieved your goal for the day.

      As a daily blogger, that one thing for me is writing before I move on to other work or family time or exercise. The question is, what are we saying no to that we might say yes to our one thing? One might say the answer is that if you’re focused on the right thing, it doesn’t matter what you say no to. Everything aligns when we focus on the right thing, which Keller said more efficiently than I just did.

      But is writing a daily blog an appropriate one thing? Shouldn’t exercise or family or work be prioritized before writing? It’s not like I’m paying the mortgage with the stream of cash coming in from blogging revenue. The thing is, blogging isn’t about generating revenue for me (you won’t find an advertisement, a Substack subscription offer, or even a basic email subscription. No, the writing is free and probably too hard to find, and is simply a process of documenting my thoughts and observations. Come along for the ride or opt out—for it’s either welcome or no hard feelings, really.

      So what comes after the right thing has been checked off becomes the next one thing. We generally know what this ought to be, the trick is to time block for this second and third right thing the way we do our one thing. Does this make us overly structured in our days? Perhaps, but that which we don’t prioritize often gets overlooked. We must schedule ourselves lest we forget ourselves.

      So maybe the question shouldn’t be, “what’s the right thing?”, but “what things, accomplished, will make this a day without regrets?” More succinctly, decide what to be and go be it. Of course, everything begins with one. But it shouldn’t end there.

    • All Perfect Light and Promises

      Sleep baby sleep
      Now that the night is over
      And the sun comes like a god
      Into our room
      All perfect light and promises
      — INXS, New Sensation

      The days of May grow longer and full of daylight, which means that the early morning hours are brighter and full of their own promise. These are the days when I wake up feeling like I’ve missed out on something special if it’s already light out. I thrive on astronomical twilight and the hope of the coming day. Each morning ought to be celebrated for the ripe potential it offers.

      These are all days to remember, but memories are built on action and an underlying purpose. We aren’t here to make it through the day, but to make something of the day. We feel this most intentionally in the early morning light. For it truly is the start of something new.

      I dwell on early starts and dabble in productivity, for each are a bridge to fulfill the promise of the day. We owe it to ourselves to meet our purpose and potential head-on and make something of each in the brief allotment of time offered. The trick is to be nimble and open to everything that comes our way, without being bogged down by distraction. When you get up earlier than most people you find elbow room to process such things as priorities and purpose.

      What would we give for one more day? Someday we’ll wish for it, won’t we? Get up and greet the morning, and bring to the day everything that would be answered in this question. As the expression goes, this new day wasn’t promised to us, but it is a gift. Feel the energy in the promise, the vibrancy of place, the potential of the start. Amplify that feeling with full awareness and hope. And dance with it.

    • The “I’m Glad I Did” Lens

      “Go live your life. Live it fully, without fear. Live with purpose, give it your all, and never give up.” Effort is important, for without it you will never succeed at your highest level. Achievement is important, for without it you will never experience your true potential. Pursuing purpose is important, for unless you do, you may never find lasting happiness. Step out on faith that these things are true. Go live a life worth living where, in the end, you’ll be able to say, “I’m glad I did,” not “I wish I had.” — Gary Keller, The One Thing

      Without being reckless, what would you have done differently yesterday? How about this year? Who would you spend time with? Where would you linger a beat longer? Where would you have gone if not for the place you stayed instead? What work would you have applied yourself to, worthy of your precious time? In other words, what do you regret leaving off the table in this brief life?

      Perhaps, choose to do it today. Perhaps reach out to that person. Perhaps, linger in the moment when it arrives instead of rushing off to the next urgent thing. Perhaps, book the trip today, while there’s still precious time. Live through the lens of “I’m glad I did” and defer “I wish I had” instead. Be focused. Be intentional. Be bold.

      There is the idea of deathbed regrets. We are all on our deathbed, whether today or a hundred years from now. We ought to feel the urgency in that realization and do something with our time. Through what lens do we view the world? Choose the “I’m glad I did” lens. We probably won’t regret it.

    • Accumulating Life’s Treasure

      “Why be saddled with this thing called life expectancy? Of what relevance to an individual is such a statistic? Am I to concern myself with an allotment of days I never had and was never promised? Must I check off each day of my life as if I am subtracting from this imaginary hoard? No, on the contrary, I will add each day of my life to my treasure of days lived. And with each day, my treasure will grow, not diminish.” ― Robert Brault

      A week ago, hearing extraordinary live music on a beach in the tropics, we danced to the last note of the evening. The thing about dancing on beach sand is there’s only joy and motion. Nobody is stepping on another’s toes. You simply dance and celebrate the moment for all that it offers.

      The next morning, walking out on that beach, you’d hardly know that there was buried treasure there. The band was long gone. So too were the dancers. All that was left was the beach sand and the surf in the distance. Each trained to keep their secrets. The moment was gone, but the memories remain, at least for now. Another memory, to be treasured.

      We tend to forget, in the passing of the years, that we’re accumulating memories and experiences on our way to becoming who we are now, who we will be tomorrow. Life is a brief dance, but it is surely a dance. The treasure we accumulate in a lifetime is made up of moments that become invisible but for our memories and a few photographs. Shouldn’t we wonder, as we begin each day anew, what will we add to our treasure today?

      Buried Treasure

    • The Whisper of the Window Seat

      The more I travel, the more I believe there are two types of people in this world: those who would block out all the noise and retreat into themselves, and those who are actively engaged with everything and everyone around them. This might be best observed on a plane, where the window seat becomes a portal to the universe for those actively looking out the window, or alternatively, closed the entire flight that the traveller may forget that they’re propelling tens of thousands of feet above the earth in an aluminum tube. Take those two travelers and bring them into a room or a garden and I’d bet most would behave similarly.

      I’d like to believe that I’m actively engaged in the world, but still own noise cancelling headphones and resent the person in front of me for reclining their seat. I celebrate the input I seek from the world, yet resent encroachment from that which I don’t. Does that make me complex, or practically engaged? I’m a work in progress either way; with stoicism as a lens for which to see the world.

      Given the choice, would you choose an aisle seat over a window seat? Would you take one for the team and sit in the middle seat? These are choices that say a lot about us. The aisle offers flexibility—you can stand up any old time you want to so long as that fasten seatbelt sign isn’t illuminated. Yet you’re constantly encroached upon by (seemingly) every person bumping into you as they pass by. There’s joy but also despair in the aisle seat, presented to you in a jolt just as you doze off.

      That middle seat must be suffered. You know exactly what you’re in for, and usually, that vision is realized. There’s something very stoic about traveling in the middle seat. Amor fati—love of fate. We accept the universe as it comes to us. All we can do is cross our arms and take the air miles. If you’re lucky, the person in the window seat is a kindred spirit and has the shutter open for you to catch a partial view of what might have been.

      The more I travel, the more I want the window seat. Sure, you’ve got to manage your bladder trips wisely, but otherwise you’re in a place of least possible encroachment under the circumstances with the most opportunity for wonder just an open shutter away. We’ve all got such a short trip in the big scheme of things, why not be open to experience as much as possible? Everything but that reclining seat, anyway.

    • Thoughts From An Early Morning Starbucks Line

      Standing in line at a grocery store or a restaurant, or waiting for the time to eat, we don’t need to waste our time. We don’t need to “wait” for one second. Instead, we can enjoy breathing in and out for our nourishment and healing. We can use that time to notice that we will soon be able to have food, and we can be happy and grateful during that time. Instead of waiting, we can generate joy.” — Thich Nhat Hanh

      We’re all working to process something in our lives—big and small things alike. This morning I was processing the benefits and drawbacks to skipping sleep for an early morning flight. It’s not my first rodeo when it comes to such things, and nothing that happens today will shake my belief that starting your day before the world wakes up offers a necessary head start.

      I contemplated this in the Starbucks line, chock full of groggy caffeine junkies looking for enlightenment, or maybe just a lifeline to the day. I didn’t need a lifeline, merely validation of a long-held habit of coffee equalling go. Standing in line, I recalled the gist of Thich Nhat Hanh’s quote, if not verbatim, and settled into a quiet celebration of life. The coffee surely stimulated the conversation between the ears later, but why wait? Life is now, caffeinated or not.

      Some minor travel-related inconveniences like a slow moving line are no reason to grumble. It wasn’t long ago when we missed the close proximity of a crowd. Traveling again is a reason for joy, and so too is reviewing an early start to the day while awaiting the miracle of coffee.

    • The Joy of Throwing Axes

      When you think about the combined activities of drinking alcoholic beverages and throwing axes around in a room, one might fairly ask the question, “what’s the worst that could happen?” and come up with some cringe-worthy images. Yet humans have been throwing sharp objects while drinking for as long as there have been humans and sharp objects to throw. We’ve just moved the throwing of said objects into a controlled environment.

      The act of throwing an axe is surprisingly easy and intuitive. If you closed your eyes for a moment and imagined throwing an axe you’d likely have a proper go of it on your first attempt. And so it is in when you’ve lubed your brain with a beverage or two. Rest assured there’s always an adult hovering around to make sure the basics are covered. Basics like proper respect for a deadly object.

      Axe throwing is done in a cage. The host accepts your money, has you sign away any liability and sprays the cork wall with water to moisten it, so that the axes sink in more often than bounce off the target (I’m guessing it also extends the life of the cork). After a few minutes of basic instruction, you go about throwing axes.

      The axes themselves are light stainless steel in a couple of sizes, so you don’t have to be Conan to throw the axe. The target itself is projected onto the cork, giving you a clear idea of what you’re throwing at. As with darts, you can receive progressively more points the closer to the center you get, but as with Skee Ball there are a couple of enticing small targets where you can score higher if you hit them or much lower if you miss. The rules of the arcade and life apply: It’s all about risk and reward. If you’ve played either darts or Skee Ball you’ll know where to throw. And that’s a good thing, because after all, people are drinking.

      The act of throwing an axe and sticking it into the wall is profoundly satisfying and exhilerating. Our ancestors would be proud of us, sort of, for keeping the family trade alive. Or maybe they’d look around and wonder why they bothered to keep the gene pool going with all that fighting and impaling back in the day. Still, I bet they’d be a ringer in a game of axe throwing.

      This may seem a trivial pursuit, and perhaps a trivial blog post too. Then again, life is about plucking joyful moments out of thin air. With all the stress and darkness in the world, it’s fun to do something completely primordial and delightfully analog. Go throw an axe—I dare you not to smile from ear-to-ear.

    • Juggling Less

      “Work is a rubber ball. If you drop it, it will bounce back. The other four balls—family, health, friends, integrity—are made of glass. If you drop one of these, it will be irrevocably scuffed, nicked, perhaps even shattered.” ― Gary Keller, The One Thing: The Surprisingly Simple Truth Behind Extraordinary Results

      We all juggle so much in our days, and prioritize the things that feel most urgent in the moment. Sometimes these are the most important things too, but often they’re simply the most urgent. Living in a state of urgency is no way to go through life. Sooner or later we’ll drop the ball on something central to our core. Deep down, we know what we’re losing our grip on while we try to juggle everything else.

      Coming back to the central questions helps: what is our why? Why are we here? What is the point of our being, here and now? What are we building towards—what are we becoming? And in the process of becoming, what are receding from? For we simply cannot stretch in every direction, we must choose what to move towards and what to move away from.

      Taking the time to reflect on these things is a lens that clarifies what to prioritize. When we see what is most essential to us it makes our daily choices obvious. The chorus of urgent will always try to steal our time, our momentum, our health and our identity. We have to prioritize our essential. The answer may be less juggling.