Alexandersmap

    Category: Music

    • Quiet Places

      We could all use a bit more quiet right about now. Whichever side of the cultural or political divide we fall on, it’s been a noisy, relentless year. If everything has its season, now seems a good time for some restorative quiet. Reaching quiet places is a journey with many possible routes. Which we take is less essential than the act of taking it.

      We don’t need money to find quiet, just a bit more social engineering and applied creativity. Removal from the noise is the obvious way—simply turn off the relentless media and walk away. A walk in the woods would be lovely, though orange is a must here in New Hampshire during hunting season. So maybe a walk on the beach would serve better for the next few weeks. However we find nature, it offers a whispered message that eternity doesn’t care a lick about our problems. Should we?

      I find the tactile more valuable than the electronic when seeking silence. Picking up a pen and scratching on a pad of paper can draw the noise right out of us and carry us to more enlightened places. Menial tasks like washing dishes or sweeping the floor may feel like chores when we begin, but carry us to quiet places as we work our way through the task.

      Ironically, sometimes the opposite of silence is just the answer. Lately I’ve returned to some music from my childhood that I’d pushed aside when a younger version of me thought it wasn’t cool enough. It’s probably still not cool enough, but neither am I, so who cares? I know all the words and that can be enough at this stage. Sometimes it’s not physical quiet at all, but internal quiet. Music drowns out the other noise around us and reminds us that some noise is joyful. That negative noise just gives up and floats away for a while.

      We aren’t monks or hermits, most of us anyway, and sequestering ourselves in quiet solitude isn’t a forever act, but a cyclical act of renewal. Just as the trees have shed their leaves and gone dormant, we need to give our minds the time to go dormant too. The noise level will inevitably rise again, but quiet has its place. Perhaps more than ever.

    • Stuck In the Middle

      Clowns to the left of me
      Jokers to the right
      Here I am, stuck in the middle with you
      — Stealers Wheel, Stuck in the Middle With You

      For those of us stuck in the middle with the extremists on either side of the political spectrum, these are challenging times indeed. Those who aspire to personal excellence must reconcile that objective with the circle of people surrounding them. On the face of it that sounds arrogant and more than a little condescending, but I will stand by the belief that we are the average of the people we associate with the most, and lately popular opinion leaves a lot to be desired. When did this become a desired outcome?

      We must hold the line anyway and work to show others who would follow the path. Progress is never a straight line to the top. These are things I tell myself when the world lets me down a bit. The issue isn’t with the world, frustrating as it may be, but with my hope that the world will see the light and surpass my expectations. We must work on ourselves instead, for that’s all we may control anyway. Still, navigating to a better middle seems necessary too.

    • An Iterative Process

      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?
      — Fairport Convention, Who Knows Where the Time Goes      ?

      Here we go again. October has flown just like the other months, and we find ourselves in November once again. The oak leaves have completely coated the lawn, just a few days after I picked up the first round of leaves. So it must be, autumn cleanup is an iterative process, not ever one and done unless you wait for Thanksgiving weekend, and there are other chores reserved for that timeframe. I wonder at people who choose a lifestyle with no chores, for the sheer amount of available time they must fill. I suppose I’d just read more or play pickle ball or something. But that’s not for me. There’s beauty in the labor we opt into.

      October was one of my most productive and transformative months of the year in many ways, but it’s all last month’s news now. We must begin again today with whatever momentum yesterday gave to us. Each day brings an opportunity to be fully alive and present, whatever that means to us. My day begins with the keyboard—the first of several habits that steer me towards purposeful and productive living. Today will fly by like all the rest, the only question is what will we remember of it? What will carry us into tomorrow a little better than we arrived at today?

      I’ve been told I dwell on productivity too much, and that may be an ongoing theme of this blog, but productivity means something different to each of us. Productivity to me isn’t giving my life to a job, it’s doing something with my life. Productivity is simply building a system for living that brings positive momentum to our lives. Those grains of sand will keep falling through the hourglass far too quickly for our liking (tempus fugit). We can accept that time is flying by and with our awareness begin to realize our place in eternity. Discovering our purpose is an iterative process too. We may do something meaningful in our given time, built one step at a time.

    • Leaning Into Constraints

      “When everything is possible, nothing is possible. But when we lean into external and internal constraints by choice, the possibilities, ironically, open up to us.” — Chase Jarvis, Never Play It Safe

      “The soul becomes dyed with the color of its thoughts.” — Marcus Aurelius, Meditations

      I have a trip coming up in the near future. There’s no winging it when it comes to which airport I’m driving to, which airline I’m boarding, when the doors close or which seat I’ve been assigned. Likewise, I’m pretty sure I’m on the same page with the pilot about which city we’re flying to. When I arrive I know I’ll have a room waiting for me, a few reservations already made and so on. Constraints can be helpful guardrails for an otherwise unconstrained weekend. Too many constraints can feel confining, too few chaotic. We feel when we’ve arrived at our comfortable medium.

      We function within constraints all the time, often without thinking about it. We are constrained by laws, time, borders, finances… and on and on. But the most persistent constraints are internal. We have an identity that is boxing us into who we are and what we do. We reinforce this with the friends we accumulate around us. Skate your lane, friend, and I’ll skate mine. Together we’ll skate to some distant point in our frozen future.

      Constraints can be limiting. When we get too comfortable we miss out on everything possible that resides outside our current comfort zone. On that upcoming trip I’ve left far more open space in between than scheduled time. There’s a lot to be said for those skip the line tours at the Vatican, for example, but you realize immediately that most of them just put you in a different line, and within a different box than you might have been in otherwise. The lesson is to buy the tickets, but leave room for chance too.

      The thing is, constraints can be highly effective at focusing our attention. There’s nothing like a deadline to keep us on track with a project. When we build the right kind of restraints into our lives, we focus on productive use of our limited time on earth (the ultimate constraint). Being rigid with some things allows us to create the identity we aspire to. Decide what to be and go be it. I write and publish every day, no matter where I am in the world (or within my own head). This blog is surely meaningless in eternity, but it means something to me in the moment.

      What color are we dying our soul? Our habits and routines, our very beliefs in who we are and why we’re here today, will determine the next step on our journey (up, down or sideways). Some useful constraints put us in our place, but they can also move us to a new place. A better place, full of possibility.

    • Shedding Leaves

      The trees say they’re tired, they’ve born too much fruit
      Charmed all the wayside, there’s no dispute
      Now shedding leaves, they don’t give a hoot
      La-di-da, di-da-di-dum, ’tis Autumn
      — The King Cole Trio/Henry Nemo, ’Tis Autumn

      Late October in New Hampshire brings meaning to that alternate name for autumn: fall. For everything is falling all the time now. The nuts and fruits have been harvested and picked over, the maple trees shed their leaves first, and then the stubborn oaks. It’s now too late for leaf peepers, but feel free to stick around for the fall cleanup (they never do).

      Shedding is natural, and prepares us for a future where carrying too much puts us in a vulnerable state. For trees, carrying their leaves too late in the season makes them vulnerable to early snow and ice and wind, with all the damage that being overloaded in a storm may bring. Nature knows that it’s essential to shed excess but store all the necessary energy reserves to survive the season.

      The metaphor of shedding leaves in preparation for the harshness of winter feels appropriate. Lately I’ve shed a few habits, donated some under-utilized clothing, seen the friends sail south and shifted from one job to another. Life isn’t just change, it’s being prepared for the change so that we may surf the wave instead of being knocked down by it.

      Stick season is almost upon us. Are we ready for the changes to come? Resilience often comes down to how much we want to face the truth of the season. Each brings with it clues about what to do next. The only thing left to do is to take the action we know deep down we must do. La-di-da, di-da-di-dum. Life is change, of that there’s no dispute.

    • All the Nerve

      Oh, when you were young
      Did you question all the answers?
      Did you envy all the dancers
      Who had all the nerve?
      Look round you now
      You must go for what you wanted
      Look at all my friends who did and got what they deserved
      — Crosby, Stills & Nash, Wasted On the Way

      Early this morning far from home I turned the corner and my headlights spotlighted two coyotes who quickly scurried off into the woods. I had no business being right there at that moment, but for a series of events that brought me to that encounter. Just a guy putting himself in the way of beauty (thanks to Cheryl Strayed’s mom for the suggestion).

      We know the people who have all the nerve. They’re usually the ones who have few regrets in the end. To be bold is to break out of the boxes we framed around ourselves. We ought to make box-breaking a regular part of our routine. Really, it’s the only way. How else can we grow?

      Rising to meet the day

    • Action is Identity

      “Creators create. Action is identity. You become what you do. You don’t need permission from anybody to call yourself a writer, entrepreneur, or musician. You just need to write, build a business, or make music. You’ve got to do the verb to be the noun.” ― Chase Jarvis, Creative Calling: Establish a Daily Practice, Infuse Your World with Meaning, and Succeed in Work + Life

      If action is identity, so too is inaction. What we say yes to and what we say no to are each a part of who we are. It’s inherently obvious, yet so easy to forget in the day-to-day demand for our time played to the soundtrack of the well-meaning who only want the best for us (thanks a bunch for that). We must pause a beat and get our bearings, then get back to the climb to our potential.

      If I could offer a bit of unsolicited advice to myself, to my children and anyone else paying attention, it’s to simply follow the call for as long as we can get away with it until we meet that person we envisioned. The only way forward is to do that thing. To write, to build, to make: action is our identity. It’s that vote for the person we wish to become that James Clear reminded us of.

      And so a bias towards action is the not-so-secret way to reach the promised land. Hitting the lottery is a fool’s game, hitting our stride by doing the things we know we need to do is how we live fully. We’ve been gifted with being born at a time and place where possibility flows. The people telling us that this is a time of scarcity are getting wealthy with words. There’s an audience for everything, even that thing that we’re telling ourselves to go be. Decide what to be and go be it, as the song goes.

      We ought to give ourselves a gift these last few months of the year. Do the creative work and put it out there for the world to see. Make a bold statement in who we will be today, and build on it in our following days should we blessed with enough of them. Tempus fugit: time flies. Do it now before it all slips away. If action is identity, just what will we think of ourselves if we don’t act now?

    • The Unexpected Guest

      Before you cross the street
      Take my hand
      Life is what happens to you
      While you’re busy making other plans
      — John Lennon, Beautiful Boy (Darling Boy)

      This year will go down as the year of falls in our family. There have been a lot of them, and each brings with it the siren call of life happening, no matter what our plans were a moment before. We must then be resilient, knowing the falls will come, knowing life is all curveballs and fickleness.

      The time to build resilience has already passed when life happens. We ought to be ahead of it as best we can, that we may persevere and grow from the fall instead of spiraling down the slippery slope. It all comes down to how easily we can pivot when those other plans drop in for an unexpected visit.

      We see the future in each stumble that our aging elders make. In the big scheme of things, we aren’t that far off from fragility ourselves. All we can do is defer it as far into our future as we can. Life will happen sooner than expected, it’s the bounce back that gets harder. Each day is our opportunity to build resiliency and flexibility into our lives, that we may one day receive the unexpected guest as prepared as one can be in such moments.

    • What Our Situations Hand Us

      They say that these are not the best of times
      But they’re the only times I’ve ever known
      And I believe there is a time for meditation
      In cathedrals of our own
      Now I have seen that sad surrender in my lover’s eyes
      And I can only stand apart and sympathize
      For we are always what our situations hand us
      It’s either sadness or euphoria
      — Billy Joel, Summer, Highland Falls

      We would be naive to believe that every day would be sunshine and roses. We must build ourselves up to become resilient, accept our fate whatever it happens to be, and manage our situations as best we can. Amor fati indeed.

      If there’s a problem with the world today, it’s this feeling of entitlement and privilege that develops through comfort and distraction. Collectively we lose our capacity to manage the waves of challenges that life throws at us. We build resilience through stressors in our lives, just as we build perspective and empathy by getting out of our own heads and seeing what the rest of the world is dealing with. It turns out quite a lot, actually, and we aren’t the center of the universe after all.

      Philosophy isn’t an escape, it’s a set of tools that help us manage whatever situation we happen to be in now. It tempers us when things are going well, and keeps us afloat when we feel like we’re drowning in it all. It turns out there is a time for meditation, and there is that ultimate power to choose our response between stimulus and response, as Viktor Frankl pointed out to us.

      Somewhere between sadness and euphoria is our normal state. We go through life learning lessons, adding tools to our kit that we may use when we plummet into challenges or soar into bliss. We learn what we can control or influence and what simply happens no matter what we do. Amor fati is simply accepting it all for what it is. We are human after all.

    • Time to Step Out

      House on fire
      Leave it all behind you
      Dark as night
      Let the lightning guide you
      Step outside, time to step outside
      Time to step out
      — José González, Step Out

      Yesterday was one of those epic days we’ll remember for the rest of our days. I picked up my daughter from a red eye flight, which meant I was up quite early myself, and capped the evening with the northern lights dancing brilliantly overhead late into the evening. Why does anyone stay inside when the universe wants to play with us just out the door? Just what call are we listening for instead?

      Every other time I’ve chased the aurora borealis I’ve gone somewhere other than home. Most of the time I’ve come up empty. Scotland, Iceland, Maine, and northern New Hampshire have largely mocked me with overcast or a fickle aurora. But there’s something to that Cheryl Strayed quote about putting ourselves in the way of beauty that continues to whisper to me. Step out! Be patient…

      What we seek often comes to us if we simply get out of our own way and put ourselves in the way of it. Last night I opted to stay put and see if Norðurljós wanted to dance. It turned out she did, and what a performance!

      The thing is, we get wrapped up in what we miss, instead of simply stepping out of ourselves to find what is often right in front of us. Something like the northern lights is out of our control most of the time, but what is in our control is a willingness to dance with whatever comes our way. Amor fati: Love of fate. Fate brought my daughter home and a visit from Norðurljós in one memorable day.

      Photo credit to my daughter for this one
      Visible to the naked eye, but incredibly bright in night mode