Alexandersmap

    Category: Personal Growth

    • Dancing With Our Elephants

      Yet the noble despair of the poets
      Is nothing of the sort; it is silly
      To refuse the tasks of time
      And, overlooking our lives,
      Cry – “Miserable wicked me,
      How interesting I am.”
      We would rather be ruined than changed,
      We would rather die in dread
      Than climb the cross of the moment
      And let our illusions die.
      ― W. H. Auden, The Age of Anxiety

      We live in an anxious time. We’ve always lived in an anxious time, mind you, for to be human is to wear the anxiety of our frailty on our sleeve, but lately, it seems to be more controlling and mean-spirited in some circles than it was for awhile there. Simply put, some folks are indignantly holding on to their illusions and will demonize and destroy those who dare to believe anything contrary to them.

      What are we to do but find our own way? The boldest thing we can do in this world is to stop following along with the expectations of others and move towards what calls us. The bravest thing in the world is to question that calling and change course. Life is a series of questions, answered or tossed aside indefinitely. What will it be, for you and me?

      The tricky thing about writing every day is the daily reckoning with the elephant in the room. The truth shall set you free, they say. Perhaps, but it would be far easier to dabble in distraction to the end. Ah, but that’s not the life of the poet or the philosopher, is it? Nor is it our lot to reach the end without stirring this complex stew of being and becoming. We must dance with our elephants, and wonder at where it takes us. And, if we would be bold, to place it out there to stir something in others.

    • Back to the Garden

      And maybe it’s the time of year
      Yes, and maybe it’s the time of man
      And I don’t know who I am
      But life is for learning
      We are stardust, we are golden
      We are billion-year-old carbon
      And we got to get ourselves
      Back to the garden
      — Joni Mitchell, Woodstock

      At first I thought it was simply the snow melting while I was away. The place looks different, I thought. Some of the usual winter cleanup to do, fallen leaves and an abundance of fallen branches litter the lawn and garden. Some wood rot on the pergola that must finally be addressed this season. Some fallen trees that ought to be cut up for firewood before mud season arrives in earnest. Yes, this must be what’s different about the place, I thought again. Spring cleanup and such.

      We know when we’ve been away too long from the garden. There are things to be done. Things that bring us back to the earth. Things that ground us. Seasons work on us in profound ways. It’s not just the place that’s changed, but me. I’m not the person I was when winter began—are you? We’ve all change in ways big and small. What are we to do when we understand this about ourselves but to lean in to our best possible outcome in this next season?

      It occurred to me that I didn’t even know what stage the moon was in late last night. There was a time when I knew where every planet was in relation to where I was standing. The universe marches on whether we pay attention to it or not. Sometimes, in our frenzied and productive lives, we forget to be a part of things. Sometimes we forget who we are. What our place in the universe is. But life is for learning, and a new season is upon us.

      Gardens and sweat equity, pets and poetry, walks in the woods and wonder at the stars: each offer an opportunity to find our stride once again. As Whitman would prod, this powerful play goes on, and we may just yet contribute a verse. Has everything changed? Always. But while we go on, we might play a part.

    • The Greater Good

      “We are burdened with over-realization. Not that we can perceive too clearly the rights and wrongs of every human being but that we feel too deeply our own, to find in the end that what has meaning only for each one alone has no real meaning at all.” — Edith Hamilton, The Greek Way

      There’s a contradiction in the world that chafes. We’re all individuals, making our way in this world, trying to live our best life. But we’re also part of something so much bigger than ourselves, part of communities, of nations, and of a species that often forgets that we’re all in this together. Individuals landed on the moon, but what resonated when they did so were the foothold they established for humanity.

      Humans are burdened by individualism, even as individualism stretches our limits and moves us forward. All progress depends on the observation of individuals that what we have isn’t quite enough, and the decision to then do something about it. Unfortunately, all the violence, violation and hatred in history come from a similar place. The irony of the Ancient Greeks is that they saw the contribution of the individual to the greater good as paramount, and created the very idea of democracy. But at the same time, they had slaves and fought wars to ensure that they’d receive more slaves (or become slaves if they lost). They were far from perfect, but they pursued Arete, or Excellence, just the same.

      We might believe the stakes aren’t quite so high for us today. But aren’t they? We’re in a fight for democracy against the autocrats of the world, home and abroad. A few decades of relative peace has made us complacent, but the pendulum will swing towards democracy or autocracy until checked. Things are very much in play even now.

      The problems in the world generally come down to a crisis in leadership. When we have lesser people in powerful positions, we slide backwards or run off the tracks.. When we have exceptional leaders, we rise to meet the challenges of the moment and the world resets itself. Who are leaders but individuals reaching or exceeding their limitations? We are the choices we make, collectively.

      The paradox of living in the modern world is the blessing and curse of individualism. Everyone is so ensnared in themselves and the screen in front of their faces that they forget that we’re each a part of something much bigger than ourselves. When we look at the problems in the world today, they often come down to self-interest. When we look at the greatest accomplishments we’ve made in history, they’re often the result of collective contribution. With this in mind, it seems the answer to much of our problems lies in rising to meet the moment, together.

    • The Chill Lane

      “Those whom God wishes to destroy, he first makes angry.” — Euripides

      Commuting was never my thing, but sometimes you’ve just gotta do what you’ve gotta do. When I was not very much younger, I used to grow angry at the neat rows of brake lights in front of me. Likewise, a red light when there was nobody else at the intersection would drive me crazy. My bride rolls her eyes when I detour a different way to avoid some particular egregious traffic lights. I still have a deeply engrained habit of active avoidance of traffic lights, and have stated I’ll move out of the town I live in the moment they install them. I may just be posturing, but still, there’s a grain of truth in every jest.

      Really, it’s a control thing. Traffic and traffic lights are mostly out of my control, which hints at the deeper truth that most of life is out of our control. So what’s the solution? Amor fati — Love of fate. Simply put, focus on the things that you can control, accept the rest, and stay in the chill lane.

      Anger is weakness, displayed. It will be our undoing if we let it be. So don’t let it be. As we learn and grow we come to see the world differently, and see the folly of the angry life. To reach our potential in this life we must remain clear on our purpose and avoid the petty distractions some bad commute or bad civil engineering might stir up. It’s all relative, of course, and none of this matters when we look at the bigger picture. Amor fati, friend.

    • Where Love and Need Are One

      My object in living is to unite
      My avocation and my vocation
      As my two eyes make one in sight.
      Only where love and need are one,
      And the work is play for mortal stakes,
      Is the deed ever really done
      For heaven and the future’s sakes.
      — Robert Frost, Two Tramps in Mud Time

      When people ask whether I’m traveling for business or pleasure, I sometimes pause a beat to ponder the question. Business travel is a trade-off of obligation and discovery. We can be productive and explore the ripe potential of place. This blog was born of an inclination to wander about during business travel, and I’ve been the better for having closed the gap between work and my curiosity about the world around me.

      And what of the work itself? I hear the laugh of a friend who thinks of work as nothing but a means to an end. It’s called work for a reason, she would tell me. What’s love got to do with it? But looking back on every job I’ve ever had, even the most tedious and miserable of jobs, I still found delight in discovery. Like Robert Frost finding joy in splitting wood, the joy lies in learning new tricks in our trade. We each have our verse to write in this world. There ought to be joy in finding ourselves in it.

    • The Next Circle

      As we become whatever it is we’ve decided to become, we naturally grow into who we’ll be next. Like a tree, the easiest analogy to reference, we might have some years where we grow a lot, and some years where we grow very little. But each season we grow nonetheless, building the next circle that will be part of our identity.

      It occurred to me that all this restlessness is just me pushing on into the next circle. We’re well into the new growth season now, not with trees and such, but within ourselves. What will this next season bring for us? The answer lies within. And friends: we have work to do.

    • More of This

      As I publish this, it’s the 18th of March, or the 77th day of the year. Lucky sevens, if you will, falling just after St. Patrick’s Day. The luck of the Irish following us? Let’s hope for that, but get back to living with purpose just the same. For we make our own luck, don’t we?

      We can usually predict the future by looking at what we consistently do. With that in mind, I’ll likely be writing every day, barely keeping the Duolingo streak alive and will have read my share of books (though never quite enough). It’s easy to see those filling in from now until the end, whatever that looks like. But what of the gaps? The inconsistencies also predict who we become, don’t they?

      It’s clear I need to get a dog soon if I want to maintain a walking streak, as walking the neighborhood at night without a dog just makes me feel like the weird neighbor. I probably don’t need to enhance that reputation. Alternatively, I could move to a place where walking is just the most obvious thing to do with your time. Kudos to friend and fellow blogger Joe, who managed to find a job and home in close enough proximity to each other that he can walk or snowshoe between the two. Joe doesn’t seem to complain about finding time to walk, he just walks. He proves every day that we can create the situation that works best for us when we focus on it.

      Life can surely be unpredictable, but we can safely predict that our life will mostly be more of this if we keep doing the same thing every day. The question to ask is, is more of this okay, or is it carrying us to a place we’d rather not go? Almost a quarter of the way into the year, we can see the trend we’re setting for ourselves, can’t we?

      “You should be far more concerned with your current trajectory than with your current results.”
      ― James Clear, Atomic Habits

      When the year is over, it would be great to have written all I’d like to write, to have read all that I’ve got on my reading list, and to finally hold my own in a rapid-fire conversation in French. But it would also be great to be in better shape than I began the year, to have positioned myself for a successful year in my career, and to spend meaningful time with exceptional people. These are things we can look back on the blank spaces with regret, or we can celebrate as small wins strung together just so. More of this can be a positive statement, if we create the right situation for ourselves.

      So what’s the trajectory? Is more of this a good thing or bad? With this answered, we’ll know what to do next.

    • Become the Maker

      “Applauding yourself for the small successes, and taking the small bow, are good ways of learning to experience life each moment that you live it. And that’s part of inventing yourself, of creating your own destiny. To become a leader, then, you must become yourself, become the maker of your own life.” — Warren Bennis, On Becoming a Leader

      There was a moment while driving when it came to me. I must do more. I must rise to meet the moment and determine what happens for the balance of my days. I’ve been too lenient with myself in my writing, in my work, and in my lifestyle. I must become the maker of what’s next.

      Now these words weren’t exactly what I said to myself, but they were suggested to me by old friend Warren Bennis, in another one of those books that sits ready for me on the shelf for moments like this one. We each draw inspiration from something, don’t we? I generally find mine in ghost whispers. Those who have come before us have seen this all before. We ought to listen to them more. We all know that when the student is ready the teacher shall appear. The teachers who endure leave their advice in writing.

      Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been in the business of becoming what’s next for some time. But the root of my impatience with myself was the belief that I’m settling into a steady state instead of pushing harder—living more, and doing more. And so it is that I’ll take a small bow at the incremental progress I’ve managed to make towards the goal, while reminding myself that there’s so much more left to do. And this is the root of all major progress in this world, isn’t it? Isn’t our life a progression?

      Bennis suggests celebrating the small wins, embracing the joy in each moment, but to then press on. Action is what carries us forward to what we aspire for ourselves. To become this version of ourselves, we must become the maker.

    • All the Delightful Conditions

      “Cherish your visions; cherish your ideals; cherish the music that stirs in your heart, the beauty that forms in your mind, the loveliness that drapes your purest thoughts, for out of them will grow all the delightful conditions, all heavenly environment; of these, if you but remain true to them, your world will at last be built. To desire is to obtain; to aspire is to achieve.” — James Allen, As a Man Thinketh

      James Allen published As a Man Thinketh in 1903, 120 years ago as I publish this today, so forgive the flowery language in his prose. Blame it on the Victorian era. But it remains a book that packs a punch. We’re all humans trying to figure out this life, aren’t we? That remains timeless even as styles change. The Avett Brothers, by contrast, get right to the point:

      “Decide what to be and go be it.” — The Avett Brothers, Head Full of Doubt/Road Full of Promise

      The pages on my copy of Allen’s book are yellowed and largely forgotten, as I’d first read his book maybe 25-30 years ago. It sat on the shelf, patiently awaiting my return, since then. Well, here I am: different in almost every way from the person I was then, transformed by time and habit and environment to this character you’re lingering with now. People change. What directs that change is the vision we have for ourself.

      Looking back on this time since I first read the book, it’s easy to see the dead ends and detours, mistakes and inertia that took over at times. In this way our desires can be distractions from our aspirations. It’s easy to dwell on what didn’t go right, but we ought to celebrate what we’ve accomplished too. Transformation is a heavy lift, after all. What becomes apparent in looking back is the progress we make from who we once were to who we’ve become.

      With this in mind, we ought to look at the obstacles and frustrations we have today through the lens of who we will become by following through on our aspirations. Decide what to be and go be it, for as we thinketh, so shall we become. Set the compass, do the work, and the rest will follow. All the delightful conditions await, but they’ve also been here all along.

    • Where Is This Going?

      “A path is only a path, and there is no affront, to oneself or to others, in dropping it if that is what your heart tells you . . . Look at every path closely and deliberately. Try it as many times as you think necessary. Then ask yourself alone, one question . . . Does this path have a heart? If it does, the path is good; if it doesn’t it is of no use.” ― Carlos Castaneda

      It’s fair to ask ourselves, “where is this going?” now and then. We already know, deep down, where things are going. The question merely raises to the surface things we bury in busy.

      If we only seek answers about the path we’re on, are we giving the path itself time to reveal itself to us? Yesterday, we considered the fact that the road doesn’t move, we do. Thus, the path is merely a path. We’re the ones who change. When we ask, “where is this going?” we’re really asking, “where am I going with this?”

      When Castaneda asks, “Does this path have a heart?”, he’s really asking, “Do I have the heart for this path?” The question is the same for all of us, whether we’re building a career, stacking words together just so in a blog or novel, hiking a seemingly infinite list of trails or sailing around the world. When we put everything of ourselves onto the path, we figure out just where we’re going. And whether it’s right for us.