Alexandersmap

    Category: Personal Growth

    • Snow and Boots and Paws

      The snow began in afternoon this time around. Each storm is unique and memorable, if we observe the weather for what it is—alive and vital in its day. We get so busy complaining about the weather that we forget to simply coexist with it. The weather simply is, as we ourselves are. We share this day together and nevermore.

      We walked together, the pup and me. On snowy streets quietly tracked with tires and footprints of those who had ventured out before us. This winter the plows wait a while before facing their task. Why bother? The snow will just keep coming. The price they will pay is the heaviness of their burden. Our price is a slow shuffle through the clinging accumulation. The snow clings to boots and paws, and we feel ourselves rise higher with each step. The pup uses her teeth to pluck the clumps off her paws. I’m not that dexterous and simply kick off the clumpiness.

      All of this makes for a slow go in the snow. But our nightly walk is our ritual, no matter the weather. A hush falls over the street, but for the soft tread of boots and paws, moving through time as the layers accumulate. Each step is heard. Each step is felt. Flake-by-flake and step-by-step, we mark time with progress. Snow and boots and paws. Tomorrow will tell its own tale. Tonight belongs to the three of us.

    • Places to Go, Places to Be

      “Don’t you know that we must always have a place where we never go but where we think we’d be happy if we did?” — Nicolas de Chamfort

      “He who travels much has this advantage over others – that the things he remembers soon become remote, so that in a short time they acquire the vague and poetical quality which is only given to other things by time. He who has not traveled at all has this disadvantage – that all his memories are of things present somewhere, since the places with which all his memories are concerned are present.” — Giacomo Leopardi

      A conversation just yesterday reminded me of the places I used to go and the person I used to be. I was that character in Up in the Air, collecting air miles and hotel points, skipping the regular line for the high roller service. In Ottawa one day, Miami the next. I actually had a TSA Agent so familiar with me that he’d ask where I was going this time as I made my way through the screening process. Those were the days.

      I don’t miss them. Sure, I miss the air miles and finding interesting places. This blog started because of those interesting places I’d stumble across in my travels. I could sniff out a waterfall or an historical monument with the best of them. And I do miss that part of my travels. I just don’t miss the gap between home and away. Instead of the rhythm of business travel, I’m immersed in the rhythm of home life. And with it, a sense of place redevelops. I’ve been here before, but my perspective has changed.

      There is still travel. There will be more waterfalls soon enough. The passport will likely fill with stamps again. Not as frequently, but filled just the same. New borders to cross, new languages to attempt, new people to remember one day when we reminisce. That is the beauty of venturing. But we can’t forget the beauty of returning back to the place we ventured from. A home port has its own appeal, should we linger long enough to remember.

      The thing is, we have places we want to go in this lifetime. Some of us wear our heart on our sleeve about such places. But we’ve also got places to be. And being is the whole point of living. To be present with where we are now, and to be in this moment fully alive and aware, is to capture something of it that we will one day remember. So stop hustling about, dreaming of the next. Be here now, and have a look around. For it will all change one day just as we ourselves will.

    • Fortune Favors

      “Contemplation often makes life miserable. We should act more, think less, and stop watching ourselves live.” — Nicolas de Chamfort

      There may be time
      for contemplation
      one day soon
      enough.

      Stop thinking so much
      and go
      live your life,
      cajoled.

      This day is for doing,
      as fortune
      favors, they say.
      Boldly.

    • All That Is Not Us

      “No one thing shows the greatness and power of the human intellect or the loftiness and nobility of man more than his ability to know and to understand fully and feel strongly his own smallness. When, in considering the multiplicity of worlds, he feels himself to be an infinitesimal part of a globe which itself is a negligible part of one of the infinite number of systems that go to make up the world, and in considering this is astonished by his own smallness, and in feeling it deeply and regarding it intently, virtually blends into nothing, and it is as if he loses himself in the immensity of things, and finds himself as though lost in the incomprehensible vastness of existence, with this single act of thought he gives the greatest possible proof of the nobility and immense capability of his own mind, which, enclosed in such a small and negligible being, has nonetheless managed to know and understand things so superior to his own nature, and to embrace and contain this same intensity of existence and things in his thought.” — Giacomo Leopardi, Zibaldone di pensieri

      The encapsulation of the vastness of the universe within our minds indicates connection to something larger than ourselves. That awareness is spiritual in its own right, and one may build upon that with belief. Discovery is our path. Instead of telling ourselves stories we may seek a deeper understanding. We are connected to the universe, perhaps only in thought or recycled billion-year-old carbon, but perhaps in far greater ways that we haven’t yet grasped. Life is a span of figuring it all out, knowing we won’t reach the end with all the answers.

      This year I’m discovering Giacomo Leopardi. You might ask, what’s taken me so long? Or you might ask, who the heck is Giacomo Leopardi? Friedrich Nietzsche called Leopardi one of the four or five masters of prose in the century he was alive, along with Ralph Waldo Emerson, Walter Savage Landor, Prosper Mérimée and Johann Wolfgang von Goethe. That’s heady praise from a notable deep thinker, and a homework assignment for the avid readers amongst us. Surely if this blog continues for the foreseeable future there will be more quotes from each of these characters.

      The mind may shrink or grow depending our willingness to exercise it. We may simply believe what others tell us or go find out the answers ourselves. Awareness leads us to discovery, which draws us out into the vastness of all that is and ever will be. The universe is calling—it’s been trying to reach us our entire lives. It we aspire for anything in a lifetime, it ought to be to reach beyond ourselves to seek greater connection with all that is not us.

    • Governed by Illusions

      “Reason is the enemy of all greatness: reason is the enemy of nature: nature is great, reason is small. I mean that it will be more or less difficult for a man to be great the more he is governed by reason, that few can be great (and in art and poetry perhaps no one) unless they are governed by illusions.” — Giacomo Leopardi

      “The reasonable man adapts himself to the world: the unreasonable one persists in trying to adapt the world to himself. Therefore all progress depends on the unreasonable man.”
      ― George Bernard Shaw, Man and Superman

      How many of us are perfectly reasonable in our lives? We are taught to be so. Reasonable is predictable, manageable, reliable. When we aspire to be good, we are subscribing to a routine of reasonable. And of course there’s nothing wrong with reasonable, there’s just nothing particularly profound to be realized when we stay in that box. We simply cannot put a dent in the universe with reason. Dents require the velocity of audacity.

      Few can be great unless they are governed by illusions. Illusions of grandeur. Illusions of what might be far beyond what is. To dream and then chase that dream as if our very lives depended on it(doesn’t it?). To step outside of what is expected of us and write our own script beyond the imagination of the perfectly reasonable people in our lives. That is where illusions may lead.

      Of course, illusions may also lead us off the cliff to our doom. It’s reasonable to have a safety net, to wear a seatbelt, and to put on sunscreen. We can structure our lives around reason and still chase the dream. We just can’t put all our eggs in one basket—reasonable or illusion, and expect them to survive when we inevitably stumble. But let’s face it, that kind of logic is entirely too reasonable.

      It comes down to risk and reward. Those of us who are risk-averse aren’t likely to adapt the world to ourselves because we’re too busy adapting to it. The trick is to know our tendencies and learn to stretch beyond our comfort level. When we habituate discomfort as a normal state we adapt and grow and become. Change becomes something we are accustomed to, and more, something that we initiate.

      This entire blog post is reason in action. I might simply have said “just do it” and headed out the door to realize some grand illusion. Something less unreasonable would be to simply click publish and stretch my comfort zone after I’ve had a good breakfast. But those are the words of someone governed by reason. Just who is the boss here anyway?

    • The Call to Experience

      I am a part of all that I have met;
      Yet all experience is an arch wherethro’
      Gleams that untravell’d world whose margin fades
      — Alfred Tennyson, Ulysses

      There is a call to experience that draws us out into the world. Each experience in turn informs—there is still more awaiting us. The proper answer to the call is to keep going, to keep doing interesting things that expand our horizon. This is the life of discovery and wonder. It is ours for simply taking the bold next step into the unknown. We are a part of all that we have met, yet all that remains extends far beyond our capacity to reach it.

      There is a price for all things. To explore the untraveled world means less time in the garden, less time being present in the lives of our close circle, less time in our familiar routine. But less time is the curse of all humans. Every day we wake to a new day we have less time. When we come to accept this we learn to focus on making the most of the shrinking time we have.

      Is the siren the call to experience or the call to home? Does it prompt us or haunt us? Are we to be dashed on the rocks chasing the wrong passion, or doomed to wander forever, never reaching home? We cannot live in fear of possibilities, but simply strive to close the gap between where we are and what we dream to do and be and see in the time we have left.

    • Every Passing Moment

      As wave is driven by wave
      And each, pursued, pursues the wave ahead,
      So time flies on and follows, flies, and follows,
      Always, for ever and new. What was before
      Is left behind; what never was is now;
      And every passing moment is renewed.
      — Ovid, Metamorphoses      , Book XV

      We are forever transformed by what was. If we take this to be true, then it follows that what will be will be realized because of what we do now. Our lives are thus reinvented one day to the next, right to the end of our days. We may choose to do something with each precious moment to ensure tomorrow renews with promise, or concede our agency to fate and the whim of others.

      Each week passes by more quickly than the last. Seven days feel like three, four weeks feel like two. So what do the years feel like? Shockingly brief time capsules marking each stage of life before the next wave is upon us. Tempus fugit. Our awareness of this rapid flip through days naturally leaves us feeling like we’re forever behind, trying to grasp the moments as they fly past. To seize what flees, as Seneca put it.

      The answer isn’t to try to cram more into our moments, but to savor what we’re doing as it’s happening. Thich Nhat Hanh suggested approaching everything, even something as mundane as washing dishes, with mindfulness, that we may process our time more fully. This is it, such that it is. So what does it feel like? What are we making of it? Where will it take us from here?

      It’s easy to meditate in the garden or even while washing the dishes. It’s harder to sit in traffic and accept the minutes turning to hours. Each situation presents an opportunity to be fully aware, fully awake, fully alive. We are all works in progress, wave after wave, surfing through time. What is this moment teaching us about our place in it? What does it offer for the moments to come?

      Whenever I tell myself to stop writing this blog and use the time for other things, I’m struck by two thoughts. First, I’m a streak-based creature of habit, and I’m not inclined to break this streak just yet. But more to the point, writing is my particular way of processing each wave, for ever and new. I gently place this post in my timeline and face the next wave as it rises before me. The days and weeks and years fly by, marked thusly, for anyone inclined to follow along (I really wanted to use the word thusly in today’s blog, and there it is).

      This post will be longer than the norm. Maybe I just don’t want to say farewell to our moment together. But the next wave is rising, and we each must bring our attention to each passing moment as it renews before us. And here it is! So thank you for this time. We both know just how precious it is.

    • A Little Mystery Each Day

      “The important thing is not to stop questioning. Curiosity has its own reason for existence. One cannot help but be in awe when he contemplates the mysteries of eternity, of life, of the marvelous structure of reality. It is enough if one tries merely to comprehend a little of this mystery each day.” ― Albert Einstein

      At this point in the blog, dear reader, you may have realized that I am a collector of quotes. I believe it’s because I’m curious about what other people have to say about this journey through life. We are all somewhere along our timeline from here to there. That ought to mean something now, and it tends to mean something different at each phase of the journey. The takeaway is that it means something.

      When we are curious we are prompted to seek out interesting. Imagination sparked, we do still more interesting things, which leads to an expansive life of ever more interesting. Like attracts like, and in this way we surround ourselves with people who want more out of life than to drown it out in an endless doom scroll with something to wash it all down. To find delight in this world is simply choosing awareness over distraction.

      Curiosity didn’t kill the cat, it saved the cat from a life of boredom and indifference. What mystery is there for discovery? What will we manifest today though our curiosity and inclination to discover? Our search for meaning begins with having a look around and moving towards interesting. It’s certainly beyond where we’ve been thus far.

    • Touched

      “The snow doesn’t give a soft white damn whom it touches.”
      — E.E. Cummings

      Have a look around this winter day. How do you feel about snow? Remember, in answering, what we mean to the snow.

      One’s relationship with snow often comes down to what one is prioritizing that particular day. When we focus only on the bleak reality of our day, snow tends to be nothing but a barrier. We want to get from here to there, but for the snow. We want to park there, but for the snow. Et cetera.

      Alternatively, we may find all the truth in the universe buried like treasure in snow. When we seek council with it, we hear whispers in its silence. When we get out in the world with it gliding or tromping or rolling in it, we find delight revealed in ordinary. When we grab a handful and sculpt it into something alive in our imagination, we are transformed together into artist and form. Temporary and beautiful in this dance with infinity, before one day being transformed again into something else.

      Do you see? Like life itself, snow is neutral and indifferent. It’s people who transform it with meaning. So again I ask, how do you feel about snow?

    • Shake the Grass

      And the days are not full enough
      And the nights are not full enough
      And life slips by like a field mouse
      Not shaking the grass.
      — Ezra Pound

      There is a compulsion to fill my days and nights with experience. Perhaps you share this too. There is an equally pressing sense that time is slipping past us at shocking speed. Tempus fugit. We humans are bound to notice it eventually.

      Forever chasing experience. Forever working to be here, now. It’s a blessing and a curse to be aware. Mostly a blessing, for awareness offers a glimpse of all that flies past. Awareness locks a few moments in amber, that we may cherish them for the rest of our vibrant days. Awareness makes us do things like getting out of a warm bed at 3 AM to attempt a glimpse at the northern lights, or to plunge into a cold mountain stream or the bay late in the season—simply because we may never pass this way again.

      Don’t waste a moment. We ought to spend the time as we know we should. We ought to avoid distraction and waste whenever possible. And be bold and daring when we least expect it of ourselves. Shake the grass and dance all night. For today will fly by like all the rest.