Alexandersmap

    Category: Personal Growth

    • Truth and Stories

      “Truth is the only safe ground to stand on.” ― Elizabeth Cady Stanton

      Truth is not found in the media or popular opinion or in the best of intentions. It’s seen in the boxes checked (or unchecked) day-after-day, cold indicators of what we have done or not done with the promises we make to ourselves. Truth is the scale and the waistline and the recycling bin. We know the truth when we encounter it staring right back at us. Maybe that’s why so many prefer to focus on other people’s stories instead of their own truth.

      Stories are what we tell ourselves about the world and our place in it. Stories scare us into submission or make us feel better about unchecked boxes. Stories are watercolors of hopefulness or fear, the promise of better somedays, and reasons for why we didn’t act then. Stories are lovely things or scary things, and sometimes confused with truth, until truth knocks a story down to size. Some people live their whole lives in a story, never finding the truth. What a sad story indeed.

      Change may be built on the truth or a compelling story. We ought to know what is driving us, that we may arrive at a place better than the one we departed from. What are we tracking in our lives? Properly tracked, metrics tell the story of who we might become, while telling the truth about what we’ve done thus far. We are what we repeatedly do—that’s truth, but we may decide what to be and go be it—that’s a story. Both are necessary for us to reach another place in our lives.

      It’s fair to ask ourselves where we stand, and what we stand for. What do we find acceptable in our lives? What do we settle for? Just where are our stories taking us? When we encounter the truth in these questions, we may change the chapters to come in our lives. For tomorrow is a story to be written, the only truth is today. Which begs another question: what will we do with it?

    • To Live For

      “The mark of the immature man is that he wants to die nobly for a cause, while the mark of the mature man is that he wants to live humbly for one.” ― J.D. Salinger, The Catcher in the Rye

      You may have heard this before here, but time flies (tempus fugit). The more we put behind us, the more we might see just how essential purpose is to our identity. We produce what we might in our lifetimes, we nurture a character that grows through the seasons, systems, habits and trends we put it through, and always, we are that average of the people we associate with the most. To live for others is to carry ourselves in such a way that we make a ripple that rolls outward beyond us.

      A friend was recently trying to lure me to another company with tales of a great culture, fancy resume-friendly titles and high earnings potential. A different version of me would have jumped at the chance to make a big splash. Imagine the splash on LinkedIn when I posted that change? But this version of me sees the folly in that plunge. I’ll take the quiet ripple, thank you. To be present and engaged in this place and time with those who mean the most is everything.

      Purpose seems such a lofty word for the average person. We conjure up heroic images—characters who transcend the routine and lead to us to salvation. The idea of a purpose can be a trap disguised as a compass heading. The trap is in forever looking elsewhere for true north, when it’s usually whispering in our ear all along.

      What’s it all about, Alfie?
      Is it just for the moment we live?
      — Burt Bacharach, Alfie

      The right it transforms us. The wrong it has us running around in circles. Life is short and yes, time flies. We have no time to waste chasing the wrong cause when the essential is right there waiting for us.

      We spend far too much time trying to find a higher purpose and not nearly enough embracing the essential truth we encounter along the way. It’s all about being there for those who mean the most to us in our time. As infuriating as it might feel for those who haven’t yet found it, trust in the process: we know what to live for when we find it. When we give of ourselves to the right people that love is reflected back to us.

    • On Changing a Routine

      “The next few minutes or days or months–sure, you own them, and you can put them to whatever use you choose. But just because you’ve been using your time in a particular way for a long time doesn’t mean you need to keep doing that.” — Seth Godin, The Best Possible Use

      Normally I won’t read a blog before writing my own, because it often pulls me away from whatever I was going to write towards something else entirely. But today I read Seth Godin first specifically because I’m changing up the routine and what does Seth do but reinforce exactly what I’d been thinking anyway. As Tao Te Ching put it, “when the student is ready, the teacher will appear.”

      Everything is habit and routine stacked upon intent. When we want to make a specific recipe, we pick up the ingredients necessary to make that dish and get to it right away. When we have no plan, we stare into an empty refrigerator wondering what in the world we’re going to eat for dinner tonight. Worse, we’ll purchase a bag full of great ingredients without a plan and throw them all away a week later when they’ve rotted in the produce drawer because we stuck to the same old things while that fresh thing slowly lost all its vibrancy. Even as I write this I can hear once-fresh ginger and red peppers screaming for attention. A bit of pre-planning goes a long way when we make changes in our lives.

      Seth’s post calls attention to a question we all face in our lives. Are we using our time in the best possible way? Is this what we should be doing today and again tomorrow? Are Tuesdays forever destined for taco’s or might we change things up now and then? We know the answer, we just need to stack the deck in our favor with a new plan, well-executed. We don’t own the future, but we surely can influence our little corner of it in small ways.

      For years now, writing first thing in the morning has been my tried and true way of ensuring that I write every day. The day soon floods in to greet me, and other habits are washed away. James Clear would suggest habit stacking as a way to build off the one good habit. A trusted way to stack a workout or reading on to my writing habit is to get up even earlier.

      “The reason I wake up at 4:30 in the morning is because no one else is awake yet, so that gives me the opportunity to do things that I need to get done, kinda selfishly for myself, and the big one in that category is working out.” — Jocko Willink

      Now we know that everything in life has a price. The price of getting up earlier is going to bed earlier, lest we suffer the consequence of burning the candle at both ends. Sleep deprivation is not an aspiration of mine and I’m not sure 0430 is my magic number. We’ll see whether this habit stack grows or tumbles. The only thing assured is change, and we must be willing to try new things now and then to learn what is possible for us beyond the norm.

      What drives us to become all that we might be? Habits and routines and the discipline to get up and meet our commitments to ourselves. When we build our days with intent, great things may happen in a lifetime. When we settle for more of the same day-after-day, we are destined to meet regret someday sooner than we expected. Completely changing a routine that’s working well for us makes little sense, but layering on new positive habits to that routine freshens the recipe now and then. What might we produce with a bit more creativity in our days?

    • To and Through

      “There’s goal setting to and goal setting through… do we want to simply land the people on the moon? I would like to return them safely to Earth. When JFK said, “By the end of this decade, we will have landed a man on the moon and returned him safely to Earth,”… the most important part of that mission was the returning the person safely to Earth. That’s to and through: to the moon; through the moon was bringing the person back. So your goal wasn’t to make it to the NBA. Okay, so you got drafted, made it there on day one, and they cut you on day one. Is that what you actually wanted? No, what you wanted was to make it to the NBA and have a 10-, 12-, 15-year-long career where you were a leader on the team and you were a top producer as well. And then some people might go, ‘“’And I want to be the legend; I want to be the greatest of all time.’ Maybe that’s it.” — Todd Herman: The Power of Identity [The Knowledge Project Ep. 182]

      Increasingly, my own goals fall into a five year plan. The five years are what I plan to do, year 5+ is my through. When I reach that point, I will arrive at a starting place, having finished the last five years of focused effort. As we know, the world throws all sorts of obstacles and surprises our way in the interim, but the point is make the journey and course-correct as necessary along the way.

      Five years feels like a long time, but it flies by like all the rest. Knowing what our through is going to be is to have a vision for ourselves at that future point in our lives. From there we break down the years and months into a steady progression plan. What needs to be accomplished in the next 90 days? What needs to be accomplished in the next 30 days? And of course, this breaks all the way down to “what needs to be accomplished today?”

      The thing about identifying the through is we aren’t simply reaching a goal and celebrating it, we’re identifying the true success metric of who we want to be on the other side of that goal. The goal isn’t to lose 20 pounds, but to be a fit person who can do the fun things in life now and who has laid the foundation for a healthier journey through that next phase of life and the one after that. The goal isn’t to write a single novel, it’s to establish an identity as a writer with a future body of work that spans the rest of our life. The through matters a great deal for us. What good is landing on the moon if you can’t finish the journey home safely again?

      Big visions are fine things indeed, but once established, we must roll up our sleeves and get to work on crafting that vision into the piece of fine art we wish ourselves to be. We get lost in our day-to-day and need a vision to show our true north, but we won’t arrive there unless we take this next step and the one after that. Each step is a push on the flywheel, building momentum and the exhilaration of progress. All that momentum shouldn’t suddenly stop when we reach that goal, it should be the wind in our sails for what’s next. That’s the thrilling thing about designing the journey—when done well we may just yet make it a heck of a ride.

    • Easier vs. Harder

      “Hard choices, easy life. Easy choices, hard life.” ― Jerzy Gregorek

      It’s easier to defer. I’ve been deferring a project for two years that I’ve done twice before and know deep down just how time-consuming it will be for me. But I also recall just how fun it was to do, and how much pride I had in the finished product once complete. Yet I watch the time tick away, days turn into months, months pile into a couple of years now and counting. And what was once a small project is growing into an albatross around my neck.

      The easiest way to start a hard project is to simply begin with the first step. The next step will become apparent, and it turns out it’s not all that big a step. Which brings to mind a holiday tune that may be out of season but never fully out of my brain:

      You never will get where you’re going
      If ya never get up on your feet
      Come on, there’s a good tail wind blowin’
      A fast walking man is hard to beat
      Put one foot in front of the other
      And soon you’ll be walking ‘cross the floor
      — Jules Bass, Put One Foot in Front of the Other

      This blog is a good example in my own life of something that was nagging at me for years before I simply began. One post turned into many, and soon I began a streak that is well past two thousand. Some posts are better than others, but the journey is clearly towards improvement and progression. We are what we repeatedly do, as I repeatedly quote, as much a reminder to myself as to the reader, who is generally a step ahead of me on the concept.

      We began one project this weekend that had been nagging me for years. I mentioned it to my bride, she immediately agreed (relieved no doubt that I’d finally decided to take action) and we’ll finish it this weekend. It turns out the project isn’t as painful as thinking about doing the project. Which brings us full circle back to that albatross I referenced earlier. Now that the one project is done, the other remains, mocking me for the time it’s taking to just leap. Just decide and get to it already.

      The thing is, there will always be projects when we consistently move forward in our lives. The only people without projects are those who choose to linger in the identity they once had. Life is hard enough without us getting in our own way. It will be a whole lot easier in the long run if we do the hard work now.


    • To Fish or Cut Bait

      “An ounce of action is worth a ton of theory.” —Ralph Waldo Emerson

      We can plan indefinitely but not go anywhere, and we can leap into the unknown with nothing but a flash of inspiration to guide us. But at some point in our lives we must fish or continue to cut bait.

      Some days we look up with amazement at how much we have done. Some days feel completely wasted. The only thing to do is learn its lesson, put it behind us and lean into our next day. We win some, we lose some—the only tragedy ls to never try again.

      Just don’t return to cutting bait. What kind of life is that? Go fish.

    • On Leadership

      “The ultimate impact of the leader depends most significantly on the particular story that he or she relates or embodies, and the receptions to that story on the part of audiences (or collaborators or followers).” — Howard Gardner, Leading Minds: An Anatomy of Leadership

      “Leaders and audiences traffic in many stories, but the most basic story has to do with issues of identity. And so it is the leader who succeeds in conveying a new version of a given group’s story who is likely to be effective.” — Howard Gardner, Leading Minds: An Anatomy of Leadership

      What makes someone a great leader? Isn’t it the story we embrace about them, and in turn, identity with on some deep intrinsic level? When we choose to follow someone, what exactly are we following? They make us believe in something greater within ourselves that will best be realized by joining them.

      We each strive for something better. Life is a voyage of becoming, and that voyage is full of twists and turns, ups and downs. We write our life history one of these moments at a time. That story either draws people to us or repels them. Great leaders build a story that isn’t just about them but about the greater good that they (and always: us) will reach in the quest from here to there. Stories are indeed powerful.

      Leaders may be false prophets: creators of stories that aren’t theirs. Do as I say, not as I do. We see plenty of examples of that in the world. The fastest way to get people to believe their lies is for them to point at others and demonize them, that attention is drawn away from the false god. That’s not great leadership, but it is leading others.

      The best leaders lead by example. They exemplify their story and thus amplify it that others see a path forward in following their steps. We know who the greatest of these leaders are because their stories are woven into our collective story.

      So what of us? Are we not leaders ourselves? What is our story? What are the chapters to follow? When we write a compelling story we have an opportunity to inspire others, and create a ripple. The aim isn’t to lead but to live a great life story. As with everything, we must first choose ourselves, and follow our own dream. The rest writes itself, for leaders are chosen.

    • On the Wire

      “Youth is as confident and improvident as a god. It loves excitement and adventure more than food. It loves the superlative, the exaggerated, the limitless, because it has abounding energy and frets to liberate its strength. It loves new and dangerous things; a man is as young as the risks he takes.” — Will Durant, Fallen Leaves

      “Life is being on the wire, everything else is just waiting. — Karl Wallenda

      I was talking to a bright young man we have welcomed into our family. He feels trapped in his job, working to pay bills accumulated trying to make a go of it lumped on to that all-to-pervasive source of misery for young adults nowadays: college debt. The thing is, that feeling of being trapped is a common refrain. If it’s not paying down debt it’s some other commitment we’ve made. To step out of line is viewed as audacious for a reason; The world wants us to fall in line, not to leap. A line of credit is as rigid a line as we can fall into.

      One compliment we give to certain young people is to call them old souls. Mature beyond their age, they can hold their own in a conversation with an adult, are measured in their approach to living and have a strong idea of their identity. When you raise children to be responsible, empathetic and deliberate, this idea that they’re old souls is a compliment you hear often. Being an old soul doesn’t mean you’ve prematurely lost your youth, it means that you’re making the most of it as seen from the perspective of people who have been around the block a few times.

      Those people who have been around that block might suggest taking more risks while you have that youthful exuberance. Taking more risks doesn’t mean being reckless, though it may appear to be reckless to the timid souls who believe they know what’s best for us. Risking is a form of breaking free from the hold of expectations. Risking is putting ourselves out there on the proverbial wire that we may find out who we may become for having done so. We should go to great lengths to put ourselves in challenging and identity-stretching situations, not to risk our well-being, but to shatter our beliefs of what’s possible for us.

      We are indeed as young as the risks we take, differing as they do from the risks we contemplate taking but defer to another day. As Wallenda put it, that’s just waiting. We may want to be bold and adventurous in our lives, but the very idea of risking everything that makes life so comfortable and familiar warrants strong consideration before the leap… or does it? What’s the worst thing that will happen should be do this thing? Can we recover from that worst thing? If the answer is yes, then we ought to put ourselves out on that wire. A bold life can’t wait very long for a decision, for we know life is short and youth is but a state of mind soon tempered by commitments and lines.

      What are we waiting for anyway?

    • The Rhythm of Routine

      “Excellence is an art won by training and habituation. We do not act rightly because we have virtue or excellence, but we rather have those because we have acted rightly. We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence, then, is not an act but a habit.” ― Will Durant, The History of Philosophy

      We get into a rhythm of routine in our lives. When we travel frequently this becomes our rhythm. When we hike or sail or play pickle ball every free moment we’re in a rhythm of routine. And when we do nothing but stare at a computer monitor all day we’re most definitely in a rhythm of routine. We find a rhythm that works for us and we dance with it for as long as we feel the beat in our souls.

      We’re just past two weeks into a new year as this is published. It’s a good chance to review progress thus far and ask ourselves, are we getting where we thought we’d go when we rounded the corner on last year? Does that rhythm of routine feel right or do we need to change the playlist? Are the weekends filling up with joyful pursuits, or are we stumbling through to Monday? Does the work feel right or are we looking towards Friday?

      We are reminded now and then that we need the right dance partner or we never quite feel the rhythm enough to dance with it. Sure, we can dance by ourselves, but what’s the fun in that? Any adventure in life is better together. With the right partner, we become accountable, and push each other just enough to go that much farther into the world. And surely, the right partner also keeps us from charging off the cliff when we get ahead of ourselves.

      Looking at my own daily habit tracker, I see a pattern very similar to last year’s habit track. Some things I defined as absolutely essential to the rhythm I want to be dancing in aren’t being checked frequently, if at all. Some are tracking nicely to firmly establish themselves as part of my identity. Nothing speaks more clearly than the truth staring back at you in black and white. We must measure our progress, that we may reconcile our beliefs with our behavior.

      Indeed we are what we repeatedly do. Does the rhythm of our routine feel right for us to reach personal excellence? The answer lies in progress—incremental or in big leaps forward. Are we getting there, or settling into a routine of excuses and complacency? We can reset ourselves at any time, really. Why not now?

    • Evolving the Spirit

      “The monotony of life contains a reservoir of ways to find relief, if we can only muster the courage and energy to dive in instead of opting out. If today you find yourself bored with your work—perhaps surfing around and reading some random essay on happiness—you may have just gotten a signal from the universe that it’s time for your spirit to evolve.” — Arthur C Brooks, “Kierkegaard’s Three Ways to Live More Fully”, The Atlantic

      Within the rhythm of living our lives, we may get stuck in a routine that strikes us as boring. Same menu for dinner, same commute, same seat at the same desk we’ve sat in front of for long enough that the thrill of new is long gone. What are we to do in such moments? Change everything? Paint the entire inside of the house again? Get another dog? Travel to faraway places that are fresh and new and distinctly different in every way from the norm? Perhaps. There’s a time for such changes in a lifetime. But there’s also a time for staying put and wrestling with the restlessness of routine by looking inward.

      There’s a secret in blogging every day different from, say, journaling. It’s a daily reconciliation of the writer with the blank page that must be transformed into something substantial. Like each day itself, we are faced with making something of it when we begin again each morning. What is interesting in the universe today? What have we encountered that is a distinct step away from from boring? What surprises and delights us? Scratch that itch and see where it takes us.

      I write this savoring the last of a magnificent cup of coffee. It’s the first of the day, and truly, I hate to see it end. Sure, a second cup is just around the corner should I need it, but it isn’t about having more and more, it’s about savoring what I have in the moment. Sometimes that’s more than enough to carry the day.

      If this sounds like a retreat from the pursuit of rich experience, let me assure you that’s it’s just the opposite. We can’t run from one thing to the next without diving deeply into the experience we’re having at the moment. That’s not immersing ourselves in living a rich life, that’s nothing but a buffet of casual indulgences. Empty calories that we may come to regret one day. ’tis better to choose our daily diet of experience with an eye towards a more nutrient-rich, enlightening way.

      As Brooks points out in the article linked above, Kierkegaard recommend immersion in pursuits of substance like reading, meaningful relationships and our life’s work. Lectio Divina, or divine reading, is not just reading something, but following the steps of lectio (reading), meditatio (meditation), contemplatio (contemplation), and oratio (prayer). We may naturally adapt this methodology to our lives beyond reading: That cup of coffee has been consumed, savored, reflected upon and expounded upon. Isn’t that a better life experience than absent-mindedly sipping it to empty and realizing afterwards that you forgot to savor it?

      Blogging isn’t just documenting everything that we stumble upon in this life, but taking those steps of participating in it, immersion, contemplation and finally, talking about it (oratio). This process may not feel efficient in a multi-tasking, harried world, but it’s surely a better way to live. When we break ourselves of the need for constantly new entertainment for the senses, we learn to live more and savor the moment at hand. We find that what we have isn’t at all boring, but something to dive deeper into.