Alexandersmap

    Category: Music

    • Narrowing the Path

      “Remember your destination. This will help you to distinguish between an opportunity to be seized and a temptation to be resisted.” — Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks, The Two Journeys

      There are forces at play with us daily. We form an identity based on the choices we make. Am I a writer because I write every day? Am I an athlete because I work out twice a day, no matter what? I might believe this to be so for either, or not. There is nuance in identity, isn’t there?

      We know that we are more than the one or two things that we’re identified with. We are heading towards some new version of ourselves with every step. Each day brings us face-to-face with more choices to make (or not make) in determining who we will become next.

      So on and on I go, the seconds tick the time out
      So much left to know, and I’m on the road to find out
      — Cat Stevens, On The Road To Find Out

      What are the heuristics we employ to determine our next step? One ought to consider destination, as Sacks suggests in the quote above. Just where are we trying to go anyway? Are we trying to lose weight? Don’t have dessert with that meal, and maybe skip the bread and appetizer too. There’s nothing wrong with bread and appetizers and desserts if they’re each a part of the path we’re on. If they aren’t, well, why have them?

      My own heuristic is streak-based. I write every day because I started writing every day, and I don’t want to break the streak now. And 2600 + posts later, the streak continues. Similarly, I decided back in June to do a 75 day mental toughness challenge this summer, and with two weeks to go, I’ve managed to stay on track despite some strong temptations along the way. Simply put, my path narrowed considerably when I decided what to be. And so I continue to be it.

      Where is all this going? What is the ultimate destination? We know if we look far enough out that we will all end up in the same place. Memento mori. But prior to that? What is our health span? What experiences do we wish to have in a lifetime? What contribution will we make that is uniquely ours (Whitman’s “verse”)? Our destination isn’t really the best heuristic, but the path leading to it surely offers us the opportunity to thrive in our time. The trick is to keep that path just narrow enough even as we strive to experience more.

    • Only You Know

      And only you know where you have been to
      Only you know what you have been through
      There’s better things you’re gonna get into
      And I wanna be there too
      Yes I do
      — Dion, Only You Know

      There is a lot to hate about technology and how it has slowly pulled us away from each other. So many people simply stare at their phone screen instead of engaging in conversation. The act of connection is a leap across the void, and it becomes increasingly more difficult to connect without eye contact prompted by an uncomfortable gap between distractions. I get grief from some people in my life for talking to everyone. But everyone needs connection, maybe not with me, but with someone, and throwing a lifeline across the void can only be helpful. It’s a brief moment of acknowledgement that we are seen and heard before slipping back into anonymity, should they choose.

      This Dion song is relatively obscure compared to his big hits early in his career, like The Wanderer and Runaround Sue and Dream Lover. But simply dropping it into an episode of The Bear has made it rise to a place of prominence in his catalog. And that’s where technology helps the curious among us, by quickly identifying what that song is that I’m hearing right now, that we may look into it further later. And maybe share a lyric that maybe we didn’t know we needed to know.

      Connection is thus possible with technology, when technology is used to pull us together instead of distracting us from the common voyage we’re on. A bit of awareness, an inclination to share, and the courage to step outside of our shell and see what’s happening with the fellow humans around us is a way to transform a lonely existence into a life filled with affinity, affiliation, and maybe even an inclination to stick around one another a lot longer. Only you know what you’ve been through, unless you turn off the noise-cancelling earbuds, look up from the screen and connect with the world.

    • Story Weaving

      “To achieve great things, two things are needed: a plan and not quite enough time.” ― Leonard Bernstein

      The end of July regularly presents a staggeringly quick departure of the potential of summer. August brings us the dog days of summer, and for many, an early return to the structure of school or work. I used to believe that summer ended after the 4th of July. Nowadays I don’t worry as much about beginnings and endings of seasons, but note the changes nonetheless. We have the time we have. Use it or lose it. It’s the beginning of harvest time—but what have we sown?

      Summer changes by the day, and of course, so do we. Instead of regretting the passing of time, we ought to focus on what we’re doing with it now. We make our grand plans—how are those going? When is that novel coming out anyway? How about that fitness routine started and restarted again? Books read? Projects completed? The list goes on, but we know the score. Life has its say. It’s up to us to weave our story in and around all that happens along the way.

      Right on queue as I’m writing this, my phone is erupting with work messages pulling my attention away from completing this very blog post. It can be challenging to be mindful and creative when the world demands attention. Turning off the noise isn’t always possible when we live a full life, but we must train ourselves to block off time for the sacrosanct. To fritter and waste the time in an offhand way (thank you Pink Floyd) must be thought of as egregious. For we will never pass this way again (thank you Seals & Crofts).

      To live a creative, fulfilling life, we must find the time, even when there isn’t any time. Put down the phone, turn away from the noise, and focus on the inviolable core hiding behind that superfluous material that must be chiseled away to find (with a nod to Michelangelo). We have the time we have, we have our dreams we wish to pursue in that given time. It’s up to us to realize those dreams. It’s our mission if we choose to accept it (thank you… oh forget it). Just keep weaving, friend. For now is all we have.

    • The Best We Know

      Let dreamers dream what worlds they please
      Those edens can’t be found
      The sweetest flowers
      The fairest trees
      Are grown in solid ground
      We’re neither pure nor wise nor good
      We’ll do the best we know
      We’ll build our house and chop our wood
      And make our garden grow
      And make our garden grow
      — Leonard Bernstein, Make Our Garden Grow

      One of the many habits I’ve managed to keep going is to enter a daily line per day to log whatever it was that made the day unique in this string of days I’m blessed with in this mad sprint to infinity. We know the ending, we remember the highlight moments, but what of the everyday? What makes today, of all our days, special beyond ensuring that the string isn’t broken?

      Yesterday’s line per day entry filled the entire space. It will be a day I’ll remember for consequential events, but I shouldn’t let time rob me of the other moments wrapped around those events. Publishing a blog post, painting the pergola or evaluating the progress of the cucumber blossoms turning to fruit may not feel noteworthy, but they’re layers on our timeline just the same. Those layers are our life happening in real time—we ought to capture a few of them in words.

      We will remember these days for whatever we brought to them. So it follows that we should bring our very best even when we cannot control everything thrown at us by the universe. What do we want from this day? What will we give it in return? The best that we know is ours to offer. And usually, that’s enough.

    • RIP Ozzy

      Crazy, but that’s how it goes
      Millions of people living as foes
      Maybe it’s not too late
      To learn how to love and forget how to hate
      — Ozzy Osbourne, Crazy Train

      Ozzy had an image on stage that freaked people out a bit. Maybe it was the whole biting of the bat thing. But behind all of that was a performer, brilliantly leveraging madness for success. It seems we are all crazy after all, or want to be now and then.

      I was swept up with Ozzy for a few years, and then moved into other kinds of music. But he was always part of the soundtrack, and always will be, because his music fits the times we live in. Listen to Black Sabbath’s War Pigs and then have a look at the headlines and tell me that anything has changed. It’s all madness, and we’re witnesses to it. Dare to point it out and watch them turn on you.

      Another rock star gone from this world. Thanks for the soundtrack Ozzy, it’s been a hell of a ride. For better or probably for worse, this crazy train we’re on keeps on rolling.

    • Learn How To Be You

      “Nothing you can do but you can learn how to be you in time.”
      — The Beatles, All You Need Is Love

      Learning to be you is delightful. It’s also occasionally painful. We learn and grow and stretch ourselves beyond what is comfortable and learn from that and the cycle repeats ad infinitum.

      As Aristotle put it, we are what we repeatedly do. Excellence, then, is not an act, but a habit. One workout won’t transform our bodies any more than one book or poem or old Beatles song will transform out mind, but each can be the first step on a journey of transformation.

      Learn how to be you…. in time. It’s the time invested walking the path that is transformative. Sorry—no quick fix. And that’s the whole point. We’re meant to figure it out as we go.

      Consistent action in the direction we wish to move towards matters far more than one bold leap. Sure, the leap is thrilling, but it’s just the bold start. Embrace the grind after the leap, knowing it leads to something more still. Something we build ourselves.

    • Knowing the Score

      Well the sun is surely sinking down
      But the moon is slowly rising
      And this old world must still be spinning ’round
      And I still love you
      So close your eyes
      You can close your eyes, it’s all right
      I don’t know no love songs
      And I can’t sing the blues anymore
      But I can sing this song
      And you can sing this song
      When I’m gone
      — James Taylor, You Can Close Your Eyes

      I’ve been busier and more focused lately. This offers the potential for productive days at the very moment when I’m less inclined to be productive. But I power through because to do otherwise would be to do dishonor to the work. Work is transactional, with both parties doing their part to honor the agreement. Employee at will, as the lawyers say. Today I will work, because life goes on and there’s just so much to do before I’m done.

      Life can end abruptly for any of us, but those who enter hospice do so knowing the score. Or sometimes it’s their loved ones who know the score while they quietly slip away. Perhaps we’ll know what they experience when we get there ourselves one day. One day they’re fully with us, the next they’re not fully there, and one day they’re gone. Yes, we know the score.

      I’ve been saving this song, anticipating my father’s passing one day soon. What a thing to do, holding a song for someone’s passing! But what I mean is it’s been on my mind while he’s been slipping away, and to share the lyrics before he passed seems to rush his passing along. I decided to use it today, because it feels like holding on isn’t fair to him. And maybe not fair to me either.

      So what does being an employee at will have to do with watching my father slip away from us? Maybe nothing more than perspective. Life offers many opportunities to honor agreements that we’ve entered into. We are born into a family, but we stay with them by choice. Dad and I have both been busy with other things the last few years of his awareness. We’ve come back together late in the game, but we’re still in the game. At least for a moment before it’s gone.

    • Being Mad in a Prudent World

      “Run from what’s comfortable. Forget safety. Live where you fear to live. Destroy your reputation. Be notorious. I have tried prudent planning long enough. From now on I’ll be mad.” — Rumi

      We are too often prudent. We like to think ourselves mad, but we gradually move back to doing what is expected of us, what is logical, what will pay the bills and such. When all along our wild side cries for release. Do you still hear the cry, or has it been smothered to death?

      I’m not suggesting we each take the sum of our 401(k)’s and put it all in at the craps table, merely that we stray off the straight and narrow more often. Do what nobody ever expected of us now and then, just to keep them from believing they have us figured out. We are more than the expectations others that have of us—at least we ought to be.

      We stack our experiences neatly in a line, one day to the next. Towards the middle, we start to see a trend as our collection of experiences become our identity. This is who I am is as powerful an anchor as any. To slip that anchor in favor of this is who I will be is a scary proposition. And this is why most people never sail beyond that safe harbor. They reach the end of their days wondering where they might have gone but for a little courage to weigh that anchor and set the sails for adventure.

      I see my light come shining
      From the west unto the east.
      Any day now, any day now,
      I shall be released.
      — Bob Dylan, I Shall Be Released

      A blog is a form of expression. Perhaps it’s a way to let the cries have their say, or to document the gradual release of this writer from the anchors that once held him firmly in place. There’s far more to say and do, and following the heading of who we will be is easier said than done. But Rome wasn’t built in a day, and neither are we, friend. The voyage begins with each step away from prudent, towards what once seemed quite mad. We find that what was prudent at anchor is mad when we’ve sailed beyond who we once were.

    • Purpose in the Flow

      Teachers told us the Romans built this place
      They built a wall and a temple
      And an edge of the empire garrison town
      They lived and they died
      They prayed to their gods
      But the stone gods did not make a sound
      And their empire crumbled till all that was left
      Were the stones the workmen found
      All this time
      The river flowed
      In the falling light
      Of a northern sun
      — Sting, All This Time

      Our empires will crumble one day: We learn to accept this even as we continue to gain momentum in the current of life, for this is our time and these are our days to do and be. To exist at all is a blessing worthy of a deliberate life. To move through our time deliberately is to honor the gift, even as we struggle to understand the meaning of it all.

      The river flows endlessly to the sea: At the point of their finally meeting is an estuary, with swirling whirlpools of confusion and the brackish mix of fresh and salt water exerting their will upon the other. The sea always wins in the end, but it never forgets that it is the river that gives it life. In return, it will give up it’s waters to begin the cycle again and again. So it is that life is a series of tolls paid for the privilege of being here, now. We ought to pay that toll with gratitude to our final breath.

      Progress hides in plain sight: We chip away at our goals—fitness, work, writing, books read, or maybe faraway ports of call, and with each small win we feel that sense of accomplishment for having made another step forward. Even the occasional stumble is okay, so long as we feel we’re moving in the right direction. We don’t really know where it all will take us, but collecting incremental wins feel like the right thing to stack up in a short dance with a vibrant health span. What else are we going to do with our time but grow and learn and find connection with other like-minded beings making their own way through the madness of life? Our purpose is found in the flow, not in the arrival.

    • Wrestling Back a Life

      And, I know a woman
      Became a wife
      These are the very words she uses to describe her life
      She said, “A good day
      Ain’t got no rain”
      She said, “A bad day’s when I lie in bed
      And think of things that might have been
      — Paul Simon, Slip Slidin’ Away

      When we get busy with life—the kind of busy that compresses each day into small wins amongst the incremental progress, we feel the time slipping away. Time moves the same, we just fill it differently. Put a lot into it and it flies along quite rapidly. Leave it empty and purposeless and it seems to drag on forever. There’s some balance to be found there somewhere.

      Lately, my own days are filled to the brim. I wanted this for myself, I repeatedly say each day when I put my feet on the floor and stand for another go at life. Fill the day; keep regret at bay. We must wrestle back a life of purpose from the chaos of the world that would steal our time and distract us from the beautiful work yet to be done.

      We owe it to ourselves to live a life of awareness, and with that clarity reach for a higher standard for ourselves in the things that mean the most for us. Arete, or personal excellence, will be forever just out of reach, and yet we may get closer with each day filled with purposeful action. The time will slip and slide away in any case, but we may mitigate the might have beens.