Alexandersmap

    Category: Music

    • Illusions of Someday

      First thing we’d climb a tree
      And maybe then we’d talk
      Or sit silently
      And listen to our thoughts
      With illusions of someday
      Cast in a golden light
      No dress rehearsal
      This is our life
      — The Tragically Hip, Ahead by a Century

      It’s no secret that we ought to stop deferring the living of our lives for the illusion of someday. We see the changes in each other and it makes us both feel strange, as Bonnie Raitt put it so beautifully. And seeing the changes around and within us, the urgency to make the most of now burns hotly in our souls.

      I write this in an airport, awaiting my flight, after sending off my daughter on her own flight an hour before mine. That we’re both flying out of the same airport with an hour of each other is serendipitous, that we’re flying to different destinations unfortunate. Such is life: I bought her a sandwich for the flight and hugged an until next time.

      We may look at life flying along and try our best to hold on for dear life. Alternatively, we might simply enjoy the blessing of each moment together and position ourselves well for another day, someday, when we may pick up where we left off. Today will slide into the past just as surely as all the rest. What will we remember of it?

    • Learning to Fly

      “We have to continually be jumping off cliffs and developing our wings on the way down.”
      — Kurt Vonnegut

      A soul in tension that’s learning to fly
      Condition grounded but determined to try
      Can’t keep my eyes from the circling skies
      Tongue-tied and twisted, just an earth-bound misfit, I
      — Pink Floyd, Learning to Fly

      Any self-respecting rock n’ roll fan knows that there are a few songs with the title Learning to Fly, and I love them all. We can argue about which gets your heart rate racing more, or any such thing like that, but for my money Pink Floyd’s song is the best of the bunch lyrically. Foo Fighters fans and Tom Petty aficionados might quibble, and the shear number of covers of Petty’s song indicate popular opinion on the matter, but there: I’ve said it. And yes, I digress.

      To master anything in this life we must at some point leap into the unknown and find out how we fare. Mostly we fall on our face in those early days. We either quit and play another game or we pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off and get to it again. Even writing that I felt the overpowering cliche of familiar metaphor wash over me (sorry). But if the metaphor fits, use it.

      The whole point of this game is discovery. Try everything, learn which things work well for us and lean into them with gusto. With enough leaps we become adept at adaptation. Sure, some people have more talent than us, but persistence matters too. Skills may be learned. The rest is just breaking through the mind games of categorization and imposter syndrome. The fact is, some people will always put us in a certain bucket (people like that don’t do things like this), but mostly we do it to ourselves first. Just go do it and be ready for the stumble (see metaphor above).

      I write this knowing that there’s some new cliff I’ll need to jump off sooner or later, that I may learn to fly yet again. Life is a succession of such cliffs, and we may grow a pair or live with being ground-based creatures. We all feel like earth-bound misfits in the beginning of anything new. There’s only one way to soar though, and so we must toe up to the edge and lean into the next. It’s the only way we’ll ever fly.

    • Screens and Stars

      I scrolled through Facebook this morning. Not a proud moment in productivity but there it is. It occurred to me that the platform is now a lot like living in an empty nest. Where once you could easily get caught up with all your friends and family in one place in pictures and comments, now it’s nothing but endless videos and advertisements cultivated for your perceived tastes, mostly because you happened to click on one and now they dump them all on you. Like an empty nest, there’s nothing there to hold on to but memories of what once was. A great reminder to fly away more often and live our lives instead of lingering in the nest.

      The easiest way to fly is to walk right out the door and keep on walking. I walk the dog every night just to get away from the collection of screens that would otherwise call to me, and really, because the dog insists on it. I’ve trained her too well at this point. She serves as my catalyst for action: get up and move! Get outside and let’s see what’s new in the neighborhood! Good pup.

      The days are getting shorter again, and the air feels autumn-like after the thick tropical air we just had finally cleared out. The pup and I have an unsaid agreement where she covers the ground level quite well, and I tilt my head up and assess the evening sky (This works until she bolts for bunnies, but I’ve learned to sense those sudden energy bursts before they erupt). The waxing crescent moon clears out just as it’s getting dark, and the stars emerge to remind me that there’s so much more to life than lingering in front of screens.

      Look at the stars
      Look how they shine for you
      And everything you do
      — Coldplay, Yellow

      We are what we repeatedly do. We can dwell on the empty nest or immerse ourselves in the cultivated media feed that serves as a time-killer (quite literally), or we can step into something more with our minutes. Social media platforms and streaming services are no substitute for interaction with people equally invested in the interaction. The right people in our lives are like stars, shining for us as we shine for them. Together lighting up the eternal void. We may fill that which is empty with something that brings us to life. Fly amongst the stars.

    • Raising Our Voice of Reason

      Our little lives get complicated
      It’s a simple thing
      Simple as a flower
      And that’s a complicated thing
      — Love and Rockets, No New Tale to Tell

      Wrestling with what comes next with the generation ahead of mine is complicated. Offering guidance to the young adults we raised when they have good heads on their own shoulders is also complicated. We ought to let people find their own way as much as we can, while remembering that we’re in their life for a reason. Sometimes we have something to offer in such moments.

      The world is very complicated right now. Sometimes it seems like our only purpose is to be a voice of reason in a maddeningly confused time. It seems some people are outraged by the opening ceremonies at the Olympics. I’m more outraged by children dying on a soccer pitch in the Golan Heights for no reason but that they were born in a place and time that made them expendable to someone with the means and inclination to wipe their lives away. I’m more outraged that we’re pissing away time focusing on petty instead of looking at the bigger issues this planet is facing right now. And yes, I’m more outraged that people are outraged by things they’re told to be outraged about instead of following their own moral compass.

      “Frodo: I wish the Ring had never come to me. I wish none of this had happened.
      Gandalf: So do all who live to see such times, but that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us.”
      ― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings

      I don’t particularly want to make this blog political, and choose to focus on finding common ground instead. I feel the world needs more people pointing out the things that link us together instead of people pulling us apart, and so I use my keyboard accordingly. That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t point out when we go astray. The human race is staggeringly complicated and stupefyingly simple all at once. Art is finding the beauty in the madness and helping others see what was right in front of them all along.

      Our job, should we choose to embrace it, is to raise our voice and bring reason to the conversation. The world doesn’t need another person screaming, and it doesn’t need another person who chooses to stay silent, it needs thoughtful consideration about what comes next and a measured response. It needs people who rise up and do what’s right when it feels like rising up will get you knocked down. This is our time, after all. So what will we do with reason when it asks for a voice?

    • Before the Noise

      Well, those drifters days are past me now
      I’ve got so much more to think about
      Deadlines and commitments
      What to leave in
      What to leave out
      — Bob Seger, Against the Wind

      Count me in as a proponent of productive mornings. I get far more done in the first three hours of the day than I do the rest of the day. We all have our time of peak energy and focus, and for me it’s between the moment I wake up and the moment the world throws its first curveball my way. Every day offers new twists and turns, and all we can truly count on is that short amount of time that is ours before the noise.

      Before is the trick, I think. Before everyone else’s agenda becomes ours. Before the distraction machine between our ears has robbed us of our focus and mental energy to do anything of consequence this day. Before is everything for the early bird.

      This post is out late because I prioritized a long mileage workout over writing. Normally I do it the other way around, but alas, the workouts don’t always survive intact after the noise. With deadlines and commitments, we’re always weighing what to leave in and what to leave out in our lives. A song like Against the Wind is more meaningful with a few miles on the soul than it was as a kid.

      Priorities change as we do. And we aren’t drifting at this point in our lives, are we? No, we’re living with purpose and trying to fit as much in as a day will give us. The lesson always seems to come back to starting early and not beating ourselves up for leaving a few things out.

    • To Live Is to Fly

      To live is to fly low and high
      so shake the dust off of your wings
      and the sleep out of your eyes
      — Cowboy Junkies, To Live Is to Fly

      I think that maybe stagnation is our greatest adversary. It kills any momentum in our lives and hastens our demise. We must move while we can. Stillness will claim us one day soon, but not just yet.

      Yes, I think that movement is the key. We must keep moving to fully live. Even trees, forever rooted to place, are constantly reaching up and outward to embrace the light, and dance in the breeze together. So it is with us, even when rooted, we must keep moving.

      Yesterday I rolled out the bicycle for a long ride along a rail trail. Cycling is the low form of flying, but a delightful way to traverse time and place. I wondered, why don’t I ride more often? No answer was apparent, just a resolution to take flight again soon. Life is a series of self-discoveries with the occasional memory jog reminding us that there are moments from our past worthy of a moment of reacquaintance. A bicycle deserves a better fate than to hang forever in a garage gathering dust. So too do we.

      What else is gathering dust, awaiting our return? Hiking boots? Books? Passports? First drafts? What might we put into motion again, that it may take off full of life? We must shake the dust off and flap these wings. To live is to fly, low and high.

    • Happily Ever Afters

      He said, “Don’t you know I love you, oh, so much
      And lay my heart at the foot of your dress?”
      She said, “Don’t you know that storybook loves
      Always have a happy ending”?
      Then he swooped her up just like in the books
      And on his stallion they rode away
      — Mark Knopfler & Willy Deville, Storybook Love

      A few days ago I took all the serious books I’ve committed myself to finishing and stacked them gently to the side in favor of the delightful, beautifully-illustrated gem The Princess Bride by William Goldman. If you’ve seen the movie and memorized the lines, the book will be as comfortable as watching it just one more time. And yet the book is mesmerizingly wonderful and transformative on its own. You can’t help but visualize scenes and the actors who say the lines, but there’s so much more to delight in than the movie could possibly offer in 98 minutes, which is the official length of Rob Reiner’s masterful tribute to the book. And it reminds us that books are one of humanity’s greatest contributions to the greater good.

      God knows we could use more greater good. And that’s where you and I come in. We may rise above the dismal Fire Swamp we find ourselves forced to march through and ride off on our own white horse with our friends, to a brighter future together. Looking around at the world today, it surely feels sometimes like we’re deep in a dismal swamp we may never get out of. It’s fair to wonder sometimes, just how the hell do we carry on? Happily ever afters are never guaranteed in this lifetime, but we must live with the hope of a brighter tomorrow to manage the lift we’ve been assigned today.

      And that’s the lesson we’re all learning, isn’t it? Some pages are magical, some quite horrible, but most days lie somewhere in between—a steady march to hope. To face each day with love in our heart and a bit of courage is the way through the dark days to that brighter tomorrow. The irony is that chasing happiness often leads to misery, but following our heart to something greater within ourselves usually leads us to the place we dreamed of being all along.

    • What Emerges

      “To love someone long-term is to attend a thousand funerals of the people they used to be. The people they’re too exhausted to be any longer. The people they don’t recognise inside themselves anymore. The people they grew out of, the people they never ended up growing into. We so badly want the people we love to get their spark back when it burns out; to become speedily found when they are lost.
      But it is not our job to hold anyone accountable to the people they used to be. It is our job to travel with them between each version and to honour what emerges along the way. Sometimes it will be an even more luminescent flame. Sometimes it will be a flicker that disappears and temporarily floods the room with a perfect and necessary darkness.” ― Heidi Priebe

      I’ve been thinking about relationships lately. I’m in a 30-year relationship myself, which is a jumble of highs and lows and left turns made right, but generally going about as good as one could hope for when we envision a lifetime coexisting with any one person. The part they don’t tell you is that it isn’t one person at all, but a person who is changing all the time, just as we are. The trick to a long term relationship is waiting out the parts of each other that aren’t delighting us in anticipation of the person we see them becoming. Hopefully they’re doing that with us.

      The thing is, that couple who were so enthralled with each other once upon a time is still around, just weighed down by all the things that life throws at us along the way. We like to think that we’ll always be at the same place in life, but we learn quickly that each of us goes at our own pace. Sometimes we’re ahead, sometimes behind, but always committed for the long haul. Perhaps our wedding song showed us the way, all those years ago:

      Now everyone dreams of a love lasting and true
      But you and I know what this world can do
      So let’s make our steps clear that the other may see
      And I’ll wait for you
      If I should fall behind
      Wait for me
      — Bruce Springsteen, If I Should Fall Behind

      We all need to live a little before we’re really prepared for something as impactful as finding our partner for life, because life will surely wash over both people over and over again. We meet a few people along the way who may feel like the right one, only to develop into absolutely not the right one. I find myself grateful for having gotten it right, when we see so many that go wrong. What emerges from a rich life is the perspective to see that life partners are human, with all the complexity that comes with it. To find the right one, and then to grow together is to live a profoundly more meaningful life.

    • Time in the Sun

      There’s a dark and a troubled side of life
      There’s a bright and a sunny side too
      Though we meet with the darkness and strife
      The sunny side we also may view
      Keep on the sunny side, always on the sunny side
      Keep on the sunny side of life
      It will help us every day, it will brighten all the way
      If we keep on the sunny side of life
      — The Carter Family, Keep on the Sunny Side

      “There’s always a sunrise and always a sunset and it’s up to you to choose to be there for it,’ said my mother. ‘Put yourself in the way of beauty.” ― Cheryl Strayed, Wild

      It occurred to me while driving to Connecticut the other day that the process of driving down that particular road has never been a pleasant experience for me. I’ve been driving on that Interstate for my entire life, and it’s always a grind of either traffic or boredom. The only time I recall enjoying it was when I first got my driving permit and my father let me drive from Cape Cod to our home and I distinctly remember the feeling of newness and potential that road offered on that day. Since then? Nothing but a familiar tedious task to complete before getting from here to there. That’s no way to go through life, friend.

      The thing is, each day offers us a path to new potential or tedious pain. We often (not always) get to choose which path to take. I’d like to say that I choose never to take that particular Interstate highway again, but I know deep down I’ll be on it Monday morning unless the world turns upside down for me in the interim. Given the choice, I’ll take the highway, thank you. But not forever. Our goal should be elimination of the ugly for the embrace of beautiful. Instead of commuting down that Interstate yet again, maybe meandering through some hiking trail or ancient cobblestone street is a better journey. Life shouldn’t always be about our means to an end. We forget that that means ought to matter a great deal to us as it’s the stuff of life. It’s quite literally our passage through our time in the sun.

    • To Be Where I Have Been

      Oh, let the sun beat down upon my face
      And stars fill my dream
      I’m a traveler of both time and space
      To be where I have been
      — Led Zeppelin, Kashmir

      We walk on familiar ground most days. Even the avid travelers tend to cross their wake more often than one would expect. I’ve gone through the same security line countless times at the airport on journeys to faraway places, just as sailors note the mouth of the river as the beginning of their next passage. The destinations change, just as we do, yet that which we’ve seen before sends us off or welcomes us back.

      Each day at home is a routine of familiarity. This may be seen as reprovisioning the body and soul (and wallet) before the next voyage, or a welcome embrace back to where we feel we belong. I plot my next trip even now, yet still grow a garden. We nomads are complicated creatures.

      There are voyages to places, and voyages in our personal development. We need both to feel complete on the journey. Perhaps at our final destination we’ll finally feel satiated, but I believe we just get tired. Growth is our ongoing mission, start to finish, wherever that ends up being. We may have hopes and dreams and a clear path to take us there and still never arrive at any of it. Then again, we may just stumble upon it and realize we’ve arrived sooner than expected.