Alexandersmap

    Category: Discovery

    • True Before You

      I want to unfold.
      Nowhere I wish to stay crooked, bent;
      for there I would be dishonest, untrue.
      I want my conscience to be
      true before you;
      want to describe myself like a picture I observed
      for a long time, one close up,
      like a new word I learned and embraced,
      like the everday jug,
      like my mother’s face,
      like a ship that carried me along
      through the deadliest storm.
      — Rainer Maria Rilke, I Am Much Too Alone in This World, Yet Not Alone

      One need not be religious to reach for the divine. We may aspire for a level of consciousness and growth that prods us along on our journey through life, reaching ever-higher towards something more than this. Arete, or personal excellence, is a human aspiration for the divine, for which we know we’ll fall short. But reaching for it is the thing.

      We have this one shot at things. We’re told that if we do it right once is enough. It’s the doing it right part that’s the trick. What’s right for you may not be right for me. Life is a deadly storm with no survivors. To know this and still set the sails for a journey of a lifetime is audacious and liberating. Decide what to be and go be it.

      Truth is discovered through awareness and a ritual of keeping the blinders off. It’s cleaning the hazy film off the mirror and having a closer look. Truth is something that unfolds before us. We write it down, think it through, move towards something more visceral. Repeat. That’s where this writer has lingered lately (as if you had to be told). With every blank screen, with every word pondered and debated (Is this too much truth?) Just where are we taking this? How close to the truth do we dare to go anyway?

      If that sounds too serious and self-absorbed, well, believe me, I think so too. Blogging is simply the laying of breadcrumbs along this path of discovery. We’re on our way to find out. Have a laugh at the imperfections even as we strive for some measure of improvement. We’re all doing the best we can given the spoiler of how it all ends. That, friends, is the truth.

    • The Moments Between

      “The moments between your milestones are not filler.” — Nelou Keramati

      We know a milestone moment when we’re in it. It’s often marked on the calendar months or years ahead of time, carefully planned for and anticipated with excitement. Bucket list trips, weddings, reunions and graduations are milestone moments, and tend to dominate our thoughts for the time leading up to them and in our memories well after. And naturally, they deserve our full attention.

      But let’s not forget the moments between, the days when simply being alive within our routine existence occurs. This is the stuff of life—these days of work and hobbies and tedious chores practiced daily. Practicing awareness and intent in these moments too are our building blocks for a greater standard.

      Living an excellent life demands our best effort even on our average days if we are to raise our average. Leaning in to the daily activities that stimulate growth and development, stir and inspire, and demand more of us brings us closer to that more fulfilling life we aspire to. Each day is filled with something, why would we settle for less than is possible?

    • Pacing our Quest

      You must turn back to the simple things, just as your dream says, to the forest.
      There is the star. You must go in quest of yourself, and you will find yourself again only in the simple and forgotten things.
      Why not go into the forest for a time, literally?
      Sometimes a tree tells you more than can be read in books.
      — Carl Jung

      Up earlier than normal, I read a book of poetry by a well-known author. One singular poem within it, read in a moment of searching, prompted me to buy it. Reading it again, I can’t for the life of me see it the same way. Everything has its time—we are the ones rushing through life.

      Lately, I’ve found myself licking my finger to turn the page well before I reach the end of the one I’m on in my haste to move forward in my reading. It’s a habit born of heavy non-fiction reading, and forcing myself forward to just get through some paragraphs I’d otherwise be lost in trying to understand. That may be okay for textbooks, but surely not appropriate for poetry.

      There’s a lesson here: we must know where we are in our lives and adjust our pace accordingly. Our pace of life isn’t meant to always be frenetic. We can make a case that it should never be. One day perhaps I will return to that book receptive to what that poet had to say. In the meantime, it rests on a shelf with all the others. Books are far more patient than people are.

      Pace is the thing. The right pace will lead us to awareness, holding our hand even as we try to pull away at every new thing crying for our attention. We must learn to slow down and see what we’ve been rushing past. Just as a poem isn’t meant to be quickly scanned on our way to the next, our hours are only ours when we pause this mad dash through our days and set a more gentle pace.

      What are we really trying to find anyway? Meaning? Knowledge? Satisfaction? These aren’t scooped up like power-ups in a video game. It isn’t found on the next page, or the next chapter of our lives, it’s found here and now, waiting for us to slow down enough to notice. We must pace our quest accordingly, if we ever hope to find what we thought was somewhere else.

    • Seeing It

      “The world is full of wonderful things you haven’t seen yet. Don’t ever give up on the chance of seeing them.” ― J.K. Rowling

      Here on the home front, the acorns and crickets signal the last days of summer are closing in on us. And once again, we seem to have an abundance of each. Whether we like it or not, the clock is ticking on summer days, and that old back to school feeling is all around us (along with Halloween candy displays—why?!). The Final Countdown is playing in my head, and to be honest, I’ve never liked that song. Someone make it stop!

      When I take stock of what I’ve done this year thus far, I have no right to complain about not traveling more. But end of summer always makes me think about the places I haven’t reached just yet. Once a vagabond, always a vagabond. At least in spirit. We may be grateful for the places we’ve reached in our life while still aspiring for more. A mindset of kaizen (constant, never-ending improvement) includes never being truly satisfied. But there’s still time for a little more exploration and discovery.

      This blog began as a vehicle to write about what I saw in an active regional travel routine. Through deliberate lifestyle design, I’ve gone from 80% travel to 0% in my work. Work travel may satisfy the mind’s desire to see something new each day, but let’s face it, most Hilton hotel rooms are about the same. Travel is not the accumulation of points or the “free” bottles of water, it’s the revelatory experience of stumbling upon wonderful and taking the time to learn something about it.

      The thing is, we can discover wonder anywhere, in any season. We just have to be open and curious and willing to experience what is right in front of us. I can wonder at the explosive production of cucumbers growing in pots on the patio just as easily as I can about some roadside historical sign. Why did it take me so many years to give that a try? Just as the garden is where you grow it, gratitude is where you nurture it.

      This was a season when being home was more essential than ever. The end of life journey of my father, a brief summer reunion with old friends, and the time with our children as they each making significant pivots in their own lives, is time I would never have had if I’d been off checking bucket list destinations off the list. There is a season for everything in life. When we are forever looking for the next, we miss so much of the now. Being here, now, and seeing what is right in front of us all along is the true journey of discovery. Do we see it?

    • Whispering in the Maelstrom

      “There are three classes of people: those who see. Those who see when they are shown. Those who do not see.”
      — Leonardo da Vinci

      Recent visits to modern art museums stretched my perspective on things I previously hadn’t seen. When we’re rushing past a work of art to go see something more accessible, we’re never going to absorb what the artist was trying to tell us. To find our own pace, set for discovery, opens up our senses in ways that we never might have reached otherwise. This level of awareness is transferrable to the rest of our lives, but it requires elbow room to grow.

      We live in a time where anyone can believe anything and get someone to follow along if they shout long enough in the right direction. Personally, I’m tired of the ambient noise. I’ve worked to back away from much of the technology that amplifies the uninformed or self-righteous in favor of deeper waters. We humans think and see and feel best when we aren’t floating in a soup of chaos. Heightened awareness comes from focus.

      I believe I saved my life this summer by focusing on fewer things, just when many things erupted all at once. Maybe not my imminent demise, but by avoiding an irreversible downward trend of declining health, rising stress and perpetual distraction. Most of our physical and mental health problems are based on accumulating and holding on to toxins: trans fats, sodium, alcohol, angry people, social media, stagnation… you get the idea. We must learn to stop collecting all this garbage in our lives if we are to ever reach clarity again.

      The thing is, it’s easy to stay on the carousel. It’s easy to get back on it too. We catch a glimpse of the bright lights and galloping horses, hear the catchy music and we’re drawn in. To walk away from all of that life wants to throw at us is difficult by design, but it’s the only way to finally see what else is out there in the world, wanting our attention—beginning with that inner voice whispering in the maelstrom for us to follow a different path while there’s still time.

    • Our Quiet Proximity

      Oh good scholar,
      I say to myself,
      how can you help

      but grow wise
      with such teachings
      as these—
      the untrimmable light

      of the world,
      the ocean’s shine,
      the prayers that are made
      out of grass?
      — Mary Oliver, Mindful

      Yesterday I watched a skunk shuffle along in that skunky way, sniffing and moving through the neighborhood. Bad break for those of us with dogs, and a reminder for us to be more aware. Dogs have no problem being aware, and boldly curious, which is why they end up on the wrong end of skunks all too often.

      On that very same walk, I watched a snapping turtle glide underwater in the stream as I walked over the bridge. The turtle is an active participant in the stream—I’ve seen her before, seen where she had buried her eggs, and expect I might see her every time I walk. But sometimes I see the blue heron instead, or the river otter, or the ducks moving through the slow August current. These characters aren’t fond of spectators hovering over them on the bridge, so I’ve learned to ease up slowly and glance discreetly down. And so has the pup.

      On the day that my father passed from this world, I remained very much a part of it, fully aware of what surrounded me. That we should rush through life without noticing the blessings around us is the curse of a busy mind. If my long goodbye with my father taught me anything, it was to appreciate the gift of presence for all it offers. It’s not a eureka moment, it’s a lingering awareness of all that is and will be in our quiet proximity. The light of the world continues to shine through in unexpected ways, simply awaiting our notice.

    • The Chain of Understanding

      “A man receives only what he is ready to receive, whether physically or intellectually or morally, as animals conceive at certain seasons their kind only. We hear and apprehend only what we already half know. If there is something which does not concern me, which is out of my line, which by experience or by genius my attention is not drawn to, however novel and remarkable it may be, if it is spoken, we hear it not, if it is written, we read it not, or if we read it, it does not detain us. Every man thus tracks himself through life, in all his hearing and reading and observation and travelling. His observations make a chain. The phenomenon or fact that cannot in any wise be linked with the rest which he has observed, he does not observe. By and by we may be ready to receive what we cannot receive now.” — Henry David Thoreau, The Journal of Henry David Thoreau

      We are conditioned to see by what we’ve seen. When I think about half of the country believing the current direction of our leadership is great, while the other half are horrified and angry, I can only understand it by conditioning. Those who are conditioned by fear and a scarcity mentality believe one thing. Those who are conditioned to be empathetic and develop a growth mindset in their education, spiritual, career, health and financial life believe another thing.

      Knowing this, I see that the answer lies in education and diversity. Unfortunately, the other side knows this too, and so books are banned, late night talk show hosts are cancelled, and even satellites that give us information about climate change are targeted for destruction. Ignorance is bliss. And humanity takes two steps back.

      So what do we do in a world that is so infuriating? We continue listening, reading, observing and traveling. We keep finding the truth and share it with others. We counter the momentum of ignorance with insight and mutual understanding. We are the ambassadors of truth and compassion, and we aren’t going away any time soon.

      There is no them
      There’s only us
      — U2, Invisible

      So stay the course—learn and grow and share. There is no them, there’s only us. When we stop thinking of them as different from us and simply less aware, something opens up within our own minds. We are ready to build bridges—to help them see, not simply them, but all of us. The solution has always been right in front of us, waiting for enough of us to finally receive it. We are all links in the human chain. That chain connects to an anchor of truth or shackles of mistrust. What we connect to is up to us.

    • The Whole Trip

      “E.L. Doctorow said once said that ‘Writing a novel is like driving a car at night. You can see only as far as your headlights, but you can make the whole trip that way.’ You don’t have to see where you’re going, you don’t have to see your destination or everything you will pass along the way. You just have to see two or three feet ahead of you. This is right up there with the best advice on writing, or life, I have ever heard.”
      ― Anne Lamott, Bird by Bird

      We meet moments in our lives, one to the next, that were unpredictable just before we arrived there. We’re all figuring things out as we move through our lives, one puzzle after another. We learn that we don’t have it all figured out, but that we can figure it out when we get there. Sure, save for retirement, and eat the right foods and exercise to build a foundation of health for tomorrow, but don’t face down imaginary monsters that may never rise to challenge us. Take each day as it comes.

      Writing and publishing a blog every day, like writing a line per day in my journal, is a great way to assess whatever mile marker I’ve arrived at along the way. What keeps us present with the things that are right in front of us, and not worried or distracted by the clown show happening off to the side? Those clowns may impact our lives, but we have to remember that we’re driving our own life and focus accordingly.

      To that end, keeping ourselves to task on the essential things we need to do in any given day is a great way to force ourselves to focus on what’s in front of us. I know I need to finish writing this blog, follow up with several people in my work, complete a project that I haven’t wanted to deal with, work out twice, read and hydrate properly. Everything else that fits in the vehicle as we’re moving down this road is a bonus, but completing each of those is the engine that keeps me moving forward.

    • 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.