Alexandersmap

    Category: Discovery

    • Attention is Vitality

      “Do stuff. be clenched, curious. Not waiting for inspiration’s shove or society’s kiss on your forehead. Pay attention. It’s all about paying attention. attention is vitality. It connects you with others. It makes you eager. stay eager.” ― Susan Sontag

      Many things compete for our attention. The pup wants very much for me to pay full attention to playing frisbee with her for the entire morning. There’s a part of me that would rather do that than shift attention to other work. But there are things we must do in our lives that call to us. What we pay attention to determines where we go after all.

      Perhaps I love my return to cycling because of the state change it brought to me, or perhaps it’s because I’m very focused on the act of staying upright and making miles when I’m doing it. There’s no texting or doom scrolling on my part, and hopefully not on the part of the drivers nearby. There’s just full attention to the joyful act of flying inches over the pavement, with the occasional hill to punch up the heart rate.

      During this morning’s frisbee session I listened to the world around me. The sound of a horse whinnying at the farm beyond the woods, a crow having a conversation with another crow that preferred silence (thank you very much!), the hum of distant morning drivers on country roads, the sun shining brightly upon grateful oak leaves, the still wet footprints from an early morning plunge in the pool, a bit of coolness in the air. Paying attention offers a wealth of information from which to become engaged with the universe. Alternatively, we may focus our rapt attention on one thing until it’s done. I’m particularly good at the former, and force myself towards the latter. Some tasks are easier than others.

      There’s just so much to pay attention to in this world, screaming as it is for ours. The trick is to filter it all out and listen to the call of the wild within us. What excites us? Why aren’t we doing more of that to see where it leads us? Life is a meandering path of engagement and diversion with an undefined destination set against a clock ticking relentlessly in the background, reminding us that we’re running out of time. Do stuff! While we still have the currency of attention, health and vitality to stuff those minutes full of experience.

    • A Unique Wonder

      I read somewhere that meteor showers
      are almost alwavs named after the constellation from which
      they originate. It’s funny, I think, how even the universe is telling us
      that we can never get too far
      from the place that created us.
      How there is always a streak of our past
      trailing closely behind us
      like a smattering of obstinate memories. Even when we enter a new atmosphere,
      become subsumed in flames, turn to dust, lose ourselves in the wind, and scatter
      the surface of all that rest beneath us, we bring a part of where we are from
      to every place we go.
      — Clint Smith, Meteor Shower

      Walking the pup the other night, I saw a shooting star far brighter and more colorful than the norm, with a very definite tail and distinct blues, greens and yellows in the burn. I thought for a moment that it might have been a stray firework but for the direction it was falling and the distinct shooting star vibe. Was it an elusive fireball or simply a particularly passionate meteor? I think the latter, but it was the brightest and most colorful I’d ever seen. This particular shooting star apparently contained enough copper, magnesium and iron to treat me to that display of blue, green and yellow I’d witnessed. Throw enough science at anything and the magic evaporates. Let’s just call it a unique wonder in a sky full of beautiful.

      I don’t write about the stars so much nowadays, but I still look up most every night and marvel at the universe. If we are indeed stardust then we are staring at our distant cousins out there. Some of us dwell on where we came from, some chalk it up to a Creator and dismiss any talk of science as sacrilege. None of us is really in the know on such things, and the people who shout the loudest are usually the ones who know the least. We all crave answers, don’t we? It’s just that some settle on the answer someone else tells them is true instead of remaining open to other possibilities. Where we come from, if we go back far enough, is infinity. We’ll return there someday soon. What we choose to call that infinity is up for discussion.

      The thing is, we all accept some version of where we came from, it’s where we’re going that we can’t quite understand. We are all shooting stars streaking across the sky to our final days, memento mori and all that. But we may add enough color to our lives to make our journey wonderful, and perhaps inspire others on their own journey too. In our dance with infinity, this brief time is unique to us. Shouldn’t we aspire to as much as we may fit in along the way?

    • Let Us Be Bold Today

      “I think that all human systems require continuous renewal. They rigidify. They get stuff in the joints. They forget what they cared about. The forces against it are nostalgia and the enormous appeal of having things the way they always have been, appeals to a supposedly happy past. But we’ve got to move on.” — John W. Gardner

      Rigidify isn’t a word I use frequently, but isn’t it perfectly opposite of embracing change and the growth that comes with it? We’re all changing every day, we just don’t see the changes until we’ve looked back with some perspective. Sure, there are abrupt changes that turn us upside down now and then in a lifetime, but for the most part we must be the invoker of state change in our lives.

      The problem is that everything grows so damned comfortable. We’re less inclined to change dramatically, preferring the incremental changes we can absorb with careful consideration. That’s why we stay where we are, doing what we’ve been doing, with the people we’ve always done them with, until the end… Rigidified. Let that <yawn> not be us.

      We get caught up in big picture stuff too often, and forget the small act we can make in the moment that will change everything given enough momentum. There’s a feeling of hopelessness in people paralyzed by all the things in their life that get in the way of the leap into new. Change feels too big. Maybe start with how we spend the next hour instead. What is the most dynamic, energizing, empowering thing we can do right now that is within our control? Do some version of that. Shake off the cobwebs and leap! At least try a little hop?

      “You’re not dying. You just can’t think of anything good to do.” — Ferris Bueller to Cameron, Ferris Bueller’s Day Off

      We all need that Ferris Bueller character in our lives to call us out for getting too comfortable in our own current state. If good is truly the enemy of great, then good enough in this moment is keeping us from something far better. We ought to be more creative with our hours. This current one is slipping away quickly. So consider this a Bueller callout and shake off the cobwebs. Let us be bold today.

    • Savor the Circle

      “Do silly things. Foolishness is a great deal more vital and healthy than our straining and striving after a meaningful life.” ― Anton Chekhov, The Portable Chekhov

      I hit the 20 mile mark yesterday in combined mileage between cycling and walking. This may not seem all that impressive, but it was a busy and hot day and that milestone was very much in doubt for much of the day. I finished just after 10 PM, when I’m usually in bed reading. To celebrate I took a late night solo swim—just me and the stars and satellites in a dark pool of water on the edge of the woods. And I felt completely alive and present floating there.

      The older I get the less I seek meaning in everything I do. I’m simply enjoying it all. Washing dishes never felt so fulfilling. Dead-heading the flowers is meditative. Cleaning up after the pets? Not so delightful, but not something I avoid or resent as I’m doing it. It’s just part of the deal. Life is a series of chores and commitments we make to each other before we carve out a bit of time for ourselves to savor the circle we’ve surrounded ourselves with.

      The scale is telling me that I’m roughly the same character I was a month ago, but what does a scale know? I’m more fit, more active, seeing more and feeling the momentum of consistency. We know when we’re fully alive and when we’re fooling ourselves. Activity pays dividends beyond numbers on a scale.

      These are days we’ll remember. At least they will be if we place ourselves squarely in the moment and fill each with things that make us feel vital and healthy. As we move into the height of summer, what will we take from this time? The satisfying snip of a spent bloom? The smell of tomato vines and twine? Light shining in north-facing windows that rarely catch such beams but for the longest days of the year? Or bubbles running up your back as you rise to meet the July sky? The answer is to delight in it all.

    • Pressing the Essence

      “I would like to do whatever it is that presses the essence from the hour.” — Mary Oliver, Pen and Paper and a Breath of Air

      Grabbing the moment was the goal well before this blog began, but the writing emphatically reminds me to seize the bloody day already. Some hours are seized, others are burned frivolously and quickly forgotten like all the rest of our lost time. We ought to remind ourselves to look for the essence in every hour and give it our full attention before it slips away to the infinite.

      Paying attention helps. What are we experiencing right now? Where will it lead us next? How can we put an exclamation point on this moment? This level of curiosity and focus wrings joie de vivre out of ordinary. Whoever we will become surely begins right here and now, wherever we find ourselves. We may write a hell of a story launched from this hour or give it to the average like all the rest, the choice is ours. It always begins with where we focus our attention.

      Perhaps that’s my why for this blog. The thing that keeps it going instead of all the other things I might do instead of this with this particular hour. Then again, maybe there’s something more hiding just below the surface in this hour that is even more essential for you and I to discover. We won’t know if we don’t seek it out.

    • Life’s Good Runs

      “Life is like skiing. Just like skiing, the goal is not to get to the bottom of the hill. It’s to have a bunch of good runs before the sun sets.” — Seth Godin

      We each go through distinct seasons in our lives, not just age-based but in what we are focused on. We look back on them fondly or maybe not so fondly, but we can see exactly who we were at the time and know it brought us to who we are today. School days, sports played, people encountered and cherished for awhile, books read and discussed, career rungs climbed, places visited that seep into our souls—these are all good runs that we remember for the rest of our days. A lifetime may itself be a good run, made up of a series of other runs played by the distinct characters we were at the time.

      I still identify as a rower even though my rowing days on water are far in my past. Millions of meters on a machine in my basement aren’t quite the same, but the feeling of the catch made perfectly resonates across time and place. How many great catches did I have? Who’s to say but we know one when we feel it. Either way, that stroke ends and we recover for the next. Like skiing and life phases the goal is to put together as many good ones as you can in the time allotted.

      At the moment, I’m on quite a run of blog posts, but just last week I was wondering if this particular run was over for me. Not quite yet, but we’ll see how life unfolds. We each have good days and bad days, and with each morning a chance to begin anew. There’s a certain thrill in publishing something just when I thought I’d had enough to say and found some new plot twist to unpack.

      We recognize when we’re in the midst of a good run, just as we feel when a good run is ending. We’ll look with trepidation at the next run wondering whether we’ll enjoy that part of the ride, knowing that there are some things we most definitely won’t enjoy at all. We can’t rush through the bad parts to get to the good parts to come any more than we can hold on to the good parts forever. Life unfolds and we adapt to it and grow. What comes next is important too, but let’s not forget the thrill of the run we’re currently on.

    • 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.

    • The New Way

      “If we are always arriving and departing, it is also true that we are eternally anchored. One’s destination is never a place but rather a new way of looking at things.” ― Henry Miller, Big Sur and the Oranges of Hieronymus Bosch

      This week has brought me to a new destination from the one that I departed just a few days ago. Everything is different, once again, because we all change all the time. When we encounter those close to us after these changes, we influence them as they do us. The ripples may be profound or undetectable (but they are surely there).

      Writing telegraphs the changes in me before I reunite with some of my close circle, and if they read the blog, they absorb the changes and react to each themselves. That’s the thing about blogging—you’re constantly telling the people around you who you are today with a deferred reaction from them. It’s that “I know something about you that you don’t know that I know” moment of awkward acknowledgement. Usually that’s not even who we are now, just who we were when we wrote that thing they’re reacting to. But it’s the bed we make for ourselves when we move beyond anonymous and continue to push beyond who we once were.

      We each arrive, look around, and see if the world will join us or if they’ve already moved well past us. Some people are forever anchored to that character they were long ago. I’d like to think I’ve moved beyond that old character myself. I’m under no illusion that I’m ahead of the pack, for I feel my adult life has been forever playing catch-up for the choices I made when I was a younger version of myself. We must bury our former self with each arrival at a new us. So it goes.

      Everything changes and so too must we. There’s no doubt I look at things differently today than I did just a few days ago, and that’s how our lives progress. Sometimes progress is revealed as a leap, sometimes it’s disguised as a setback, but in every case it’s a new way that we must adapt to before everything changes once again.

    • Adding Surprise

      “If you keep experiencing the same things, your mind keeps its same patterns. Same inputs, same responses. Your brain, which was once curious and growing, gets fixed into
      deep habits. Your values and opinions harden and resist change.
      You really learn only when you’re surprised. If you’re not surprised, then everything is fitting into your existing thought patterns. So to get smarter, you need to get surprised, think in new ways, and deeply understand different perspectives.” ― Derek Sivers, Hell Yeah or No: What’s Worth Doing

      We know this, don’t we? To learn is to grow. To experience new and diverse things in our lives offers this learning experience for each of us. So it follows that we ought to get outside of our own small box and leap into the new and surprising. It’s here where we may just find delightful insight.

      Ah, but can’t we find delight in our everyday routines? Isn’t that why we’ve landed here? I may walk out into the garden and delight in new blooms, the smell of fresh basil, the song of a cardinal overhead. I can sit in a familiar chair practically molded to my form and read a favorite book again and again, drawing out something new from it every time. Indeed, there are advocates for immersing ourselves ever deeper into the familiar that we may one day master it. We can’t reach mastery if we’re always frittering from one thing to the next.

      There is of course a happy medium. We may go out and seek new perspectives and return to the familiar with them as a more experience-rich person. we collect memories and insights into the ways of the world and bring them back to build a bigger, more expansive and more open box. And like a bird nest we may fly away and return in the proper season. Life is about balancing the familiar with the surprisingly new. The trick is what to prioritize when in our lives.