Alexandersmap

    Category: Music

    • Who Knows Where the Time Goes?

      Across the evening sky,
      all the birds are leaving,
      But how can they know,
      it’s time for them to go?
      Before the winter fire,
      I will still be dreaming,
      I have no thought of time.
      For who knows,
      where the time goes?
      Who knows,
      where the time goes?
      — Sandy Denny, Who Knows Where the Time Goes?

      The other day I heard the honking of geese as I sat under the umbrella reading in the shade. I only heard and never saw the geese, but a sudden pop on the umbrella made me stop reading and look up. It turns out the umbrella saved me and the book from an unpleasant deposit a goose was making on its flyover.

      Yes, the geese are back. A sure sign of the summer season shifting towards later in the game. And have you noticed? Sunrise is later too. The summer harvest is abundant and relentless. Acorns are already bouncing off the pavement. Back to school sales are in full swing, and Halloween candy will be sold out if we dare wait until October to buy it.

      Ready or not, time moves on. Memories relentlessly pop up in social media feeds. WordPress prompts us to look back on our own posts from this date in previous years. Reminders are everywhere to look up from what is occupying our attention and have a look at where we are, where we’ve been, and what’s changed.

      And still, we have no thought of time until something jolts us into awareness. Beating a familiar drum, we ought to savor those summer tomatoes and corn, soak up the sun and time with one another. For who knows where the time goes? Tempus fugit. It flies right along like geese on a mid-August day.

    • Something Gritty and Tangible

      Ships that pass in the night, and speak each other in passing,
      Only a signal shown and a distant voice in the darkness;
      So on the ocean of life we pass and speak one another,
      Only a look and a voice, then darkness again and a silence.
      — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, The Theologian’s Tale; Elizabeth

      We modern time travelers are forever busy, distracted and hustling on to the next. We ought to remember that many encounters we have will be our one and only exchange with a fellow time-traveler. Or it may be the last of many. The lesson? Savor the time together, however fleeting it may be. For we will never pass this way again.

      Since his untimely passing last week, I’ve been on a Glen Hansard binge. This often happens when an artist passes—we are reminded of their work, and seek to know more about what they’ve left behind that we may have missed. And with Glen Hansard, there is a whole catalog of brilliant, stunning music and film to choose from. Dare I say, he was the Van Morrison of Gen X.

      One might say the deck is stacked against us reaching even a small percentage of our potential, let alone our potential time with others. We must prioritize, and hope that we encounter the right ships in the night along our way, and at just the right time. This requires our receptiveness, active awareness and diligence, before the opportunity slips away forever.

      We can’t possibly experience everything, or know everyone. Inevitably something slips right through our grasp. Like sand, we can’t grab hold of it too tightly or too much squeezes through. But we can grab our share and hold on just tightly enough to feel we’ve got something gritty and tangible on our hands even as the rest flows past us in a whir. Sometimes, maybe that’s enough.

    • In Between

      And take your time babe
      It’s not as bad as it seemed
      You’ll be fine babe
      It’s just some rivers and streams
      In between, you and where you want to be
      — Glen Hansard, Song of Good Hope

      Inevitably, when you linger on anything in social media, you’re marked forever as interested in that particular thing you lingered on. The passing of Glen Hansard this week marked me as interested in the man and the legacy he leaves behind. Consider me marked, if you will. I don’t mind so much.

      Life lately seems to be a measure of who has come and gone. That’s life, after all. It sometimes takes us a few decades to figure this out, being so busy as we are with trying to get from where we were to where we want to be. Life is lived in between. Pay attention and feel the moments pass by. Let it tickle the senses; the joy of being alive and well in the here and now.

      So much of life is spent contemplating our destination, when really, life is right here unfolding before us. Hum that tune for awhile. Here we are, making the most of our fleeting days—these days in between.

    • RIP Glen Hansard

      I’m workin’ on the high hope
      And if it all works out, you might just see me
      Or hear from me in a while
      I’m gonna make it across this tight rope
      Then I’m comin’ for my prize
      No more I’ll be waitin’ ’round
      While life just passes by
      Maybe when our hearts realign
      Maybe when we’ve both had some time
      I’m gonna see you there
      — Glen Hansard, High Hope

      Hearing this morning that Glen Hansard was killed in a motorcycle accident in Dublin earlier today, leaving behind a wife and young child. Hansard joined the soundtrack I keep just for myself, in quiet times, when I’d grown weary of the noise and clutter of the world. He’ll live on there in my soundtrack, and perhaps yours too. Still, I think of those he leaves behind, and the shock of it all.

      I’m reminded of that Sting song at moments like this, about how fragile we are. Memento mori. And I’m reminded again to meet this moment squarely, for the gift that it represents. This is indeed all we have. Rest in Peace Glen Hansard.

    • The Path Becomes Clear

      “In the end, it is important to remember that we cannot become what we need to be, by remaining what we are.” — Max De Pree, Leadership Is an Art

      A couple of weeks ago in Paris, my bride and I were taking the Metro after a night around the city back to our hotel. We’d done this ride enough in our few days in Paris to have a clear idea of direction. But something unexpected happened; we stopped at a station and everyone was told to get off. The line was shut down because of an incident one stop away, which was exactly where we were heading to make a connection.

      Most people simply started walking, either to another line for an end-around, or got out of the Metro altogether to walk, Uber or attempt a taxi (no easy task with hundreds of people trying the same thing). One young man sat stubbornly in his seat, arguing with the Metro officers insisting he get off. What are we to do in such moments? Start with a map, or nowadays, an app, to show the way.

      Take the average of this blog and you may find it’s largely focused on the act of becoming what’s next. Decide what to be and go be it, as The Avett Brothers put it (so often quoted in this blog). Well, what happens when we arrive at what we wanted to be? Or just as often, what happens when the universe denies us the path we were on to reaching that place? We pivot and decide on what to do next.

      We are attracted to moving water over stagnated water because we intuitively know which is better for us. To be like water, fluid and forever transforming as life rolls on, is a path to avoid stagnation and more, to thrive. We are forever pulled in different directions. The needs of others in our lives are one pull. The current and future needs of ourselves is another. Work or other pursuits are right there pulling too. Write the book? Buy the boat? Move across town or to another country? Retire or work to the end of our days? So many choices, so precious little time to do it all. No wonder so many simply stay right where they are.

      We need a good compass in such moments. We need to stop talking so much and listen. The right way is calling, waiting for someone to pick up. That someone is us, buckaroo. Just what are we waiting for? Where to next? Calm down and have a look at what needs to be done next. The path out of confusion is always one step at a time.

      That night in Paris, we saw that the answer was to walk 20 minutes to a station where we could get directly on the Metro line we needed to be on to get back to our hotel. Every taxi had a red light. The Uber pickup area was jammed. Walking was our answer. So we walked with a gradually thinning crowd as each individual’s path became clear to them. We all have our path beyond the confusion of the moment. Sometimes we just have to pause a beat to see it and go be it.

    • An Expansive Life

      What do you want from life
      To get cable TV
      and watch it every night
      There you sit
      a lump in your chair
      — The Tubes, What Do You Want From Life?

      I was talking to someone I’ve known a long time at a family event last week, and mentioned that I’d be visiting Paris later this summer. His response surprised me. He looked at me earnestly, and asked, “But what about the rioters?” And with that, he reminded me that underneath his gruff exterior, he was a fearful boy who watches too much television “news”.

      I’m not here to judge the person I was talking to (I like him very much), or to berate the entertainment vehicle he watches that calls itself a news program (I would rather have my nails extracted than watch news programs), but I think it’s fair to ask ourselves, what exactly do we want from life? To be spun up in a fearful ball afraid to venture across borders real and imagined, or to reach beyond our comfort zone to try something new? We will live a life as expansive as we wish it to be.

      We have agency in how our lives go. We may be street smart and still venture into unfamiliar places far beyond our locked doors. Be bold! Life will end either way. ’tis better to wear out than to rust away. The world awaits our next move.

    • Changing Tunes

      Don’t worry about a thing
      ‘Cause every little thing gonna be alright
      — Bob Marley & The Wailers, Three Little Birds

      I was reading an old journal I wrote when I was separating from my first wife (a long, long time ago). Honestly, I’d forgotten that I’d written it, let alone kept it, and forgotten who that guy was who was struggling with that moment. Thanks for the reminder, I guess. We remember the lowest moments, but not always the daily slog through the darkness.

      If I could go back to that guy and tell him anything, it would be to stop listening to Pearl Jam’s “Black” and listen to Bob Marley’s “Three Little Birds” instead. Because everything would be all right, as soon as I stepped out of that miserable cycle of a failing marriage and stepped towards the uncertainty of a far brighter future. We all go through our share of crap. Why swim in it any longer than we absolutely have to? Move on to brighter days.

      Within a few months everything changed for me. I’m still riding that wave of brighter days all these years later. I just needed to find the right person to spend forever with. And realize that every little thing was gonna be alright. Sometimes we just have to change our tune to a better soundtrack for the place we wish to go to.

    • 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.

    • 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?

    • The Price of Proximity

      Is your figure less than Greek?
      Is your mouth a little weak?
      When you open it to speak
      Are you smart?
      — Richard Rodgers & Lorenz Hart, My Funny Valentine

      I know a couple who have been married longer than I’ve been alive. When one of them gets tired of each other’s company they turn off their hearing aids so they don’t have to listen to the other. They’ve heard it all before, and how many times does someone have to tell us the same story again anyway? Funny, but they focus on each other when they need to.

      We know couples who stay together out of habit, or obligation, or because they feel it’s better than being alone. We know couples forever in love with life and flying around in each other’s orbit. And love is indeed a wonderful thing, but what is the foundation under all that loftiness? When we decide on a partnership that will last a lifetime, what is more important than listening to what each other has to say? To be a part of the scheme as we follow our dream?

      “The opposite of love’s indifference.” — The Lumineers, Stubborn Love

      To be interested in the life of another for the rest of our lives is the key to a long relationship. That applies to friendship, marriage, business partnerships and pen pals. We may hear the same stories again and again, but that’s the price of proximity. There are precious few days with which we may be together on this march to infinity. So what is it you want to say? I’m listening.