Alexandersmap

    Category: Personal Growth

    • This is Our Dance

      At the still point of the turning world. Neither flesh nor fleshless;
      Neither from nor towards; at the still point, there the dance is,
      But neither arrest nor movement. And do not call it fixity,
      Where past and future are gathered. Neither movement from nor towards, Neither ascent nor decline. Except for the point, the still point,
      There would be no dance, and there is only the dance.
      I can only say, there we have been: but I cannot say where. And I cannot say, how long, for that is to place it in time.
      — T.S. Eliot, Burnt Norton

      “Of what is the body made? It is made of emptiness and rhythm. At the ultimate heart of the body, at the heart of the world, there is no solidity… there is only the dance.”
      — George Leonard, The Silent Pulse: A Search for the Perfect Rhythm that Exists in Each of Us

      Read enough and you begin to hear echoes in the work of one writer to the next. As with music, there are only so many notes to play with, and sometimes you hear the hint of one song whispering to you from another. So it is that Leonard’s quote reminded me of T.S. Eliot’s poem. Eliot and Leonard aren’t really writing about the same thing, and yet they each come back to the dance with phrasing that catches one’s attention. Whispers across time and place, where past and future are gathered, dancing in the wind.

      Our lives are stillness and motion, emptiness and rhythm, past and present with a dream of tomorrows. We write and observe and play with words and thoughts and ideas. Just as we live our lives as best we can given the circumstances, so we pull together everything we have in the moment and write what we can with what we have at our disposal. Sometimes we find magic, sometimes we simply live to fight another day. We’re changed either way.

      I write this, not from stillness, but in the midst of the dance. Like that hike through the wild mustard I wrote about yesterday, the path is uncertain and each step presents a new challenge. The only answer is to push on through, finding the path with each step. This is our dance.

      Do you see the path? It’s hiding right in front of us.

    • A Hike in the Upper Las Virgenes Canyon Open Space Preserve

      I don’t hike enough. And I don’t see my daughter nearly enough, so a weekend in Los Angeles filled the gap between East Coast and West Coast. She found a gem of a hike in the Upper Las Virgenes Canyon Open Space Preserve for our final day together before I flew home. And as usual, we found adventure.

      “The more than 5,600-acre Upper Las Virgenes Open Space Preserve in the Simi hills at the western edge of the San Fernando Valley, is part of a critical ecological linkage and wildlife corridor between the Santa Monica Mountains and the ranges to the north. Hikers, runners, mountain bikers and equestrians enjoy miles of trails through rolling hills studded with valley oaks, sycamore-lined canyon bottoms, and vistas of unspoiled California landscapes.” — Upper Las Virgenes Open Space Preserve web site

      Our hike in May coincided with peak blooming of the wild mustard, painting the rolling hills in yellows and greens. That wild mustard is an invasive species and takes over the landscape. It also grows pretty tall, well over my head. On the main trails that’s a pleasant observation. On the single-track side trails, it becomes a gauntlet of greenery that almost fully obscures the trail. Those flower petals quickly cover you head to toe. Naturally, we chose these trails to close out 2/3rds of our 4 mile hike. Who doesn’t love an adventure?

      Neither of us would have hiked it solo, but with me parting the sea of mustard and my daughter keeping a close eye on All Trails, we found a strong pace for the trail. The only lingering concern was the distinct possibility of disturbing a rattlesnake partially obscured on the trail. So every step was a close survey of where I was about to step. And one step at a time we eventually completed the hike and savored a celebratory tap of our Garmin watches as we got back to the car.

      Our hike was admittedly unique. Anyone sticking to the main trail will have an easier time of it, and be able to fully savor the views. We also hit the trails while the wild mustard was at peak. Beautiful for sure, but also a contributor to the state of the single track trails. Know what you’re walking into and choose wisely. For us, it was another strong memory built on a bit of boldness.

    • A Day Among Days

      “Yesterday nobody dreamed of to-day; nobody dreams of tomorrow. Hence the weather is ever the news. What a fine and measureless joy the gods grant us thus, letting us know nothing about the day that is to dawn! — Henry David Thoreau, The Journal of Henry David Thoreau

      I caught up with a neighbor yesterday. It seems that he quit his job a year ago to write and I never realized it. He simply did his outdoor chores, came and went and never talked about what he did the rest of the time. Now he’s going back to a job and debating whether to publish his writing or to

      remain anonymous. I encouraged him to publish even as I failed to mention in our conversation that I’ve published something every day for years. Who’s the anonymous one?

      The same day a business associate encouraged me to apply for a VP position in his company. I didn’t say no, but I definitely didn’t say yes either. Am I a creative person if I chase titles? Does my work suffer if I don’t explore all of my options? A day writing is similar to a day climbing the corporate ladder: what we produce determines the value we perceive in the time spent. Just what defines personal excellence for us anyway? There’s your value.

      Each day greets us with questions like these. And honestly, aren’t they really about what to do with our brief time? Whether we rise to meet the moment or let the opportunity slip away comes down to a combination of mindset and routine. Thus, our attitude, habits and grit determine the day. Stack enough together and we build a life. As we greet each new day with the tools we have at our disposal, we ought to remember to see this one like a tree in the forest: a day among all our days, but unique just the same.

    • What We Do Not Know

      “We shall either find what we are seeking, or free ourselves from the persuasion that we know what we do not know.” — Mary Renault, The Last of the Wine

      Some of us remain lifetime students, some feel they have it all figured out. It often depends on how insular a life we choose to live. The comfort zone of insularity is nothing but a weighted blanket, and no great leaps occur while we’re curled up underneath it. We must venture into the unknown and challenge our assumptions if we are to grow and become something more.

      Imagine the brittle hollowness of a life with all the answers? Being a lifetime student is a delightful journey of discovery. We may be curious and not act on it, getting so busy with other things as we do. And then one day something sparks our curiosity and we seek answers. Writing a blog surely kicked my curiosity into another gear. One question answered leads to another awaiting attention. Writing is a thrill when we are seeking to fill something within ourselves and share it with our fellow students.

      Renault used the quote above twice in her book. Once as something Socrates said, then as a direct quote from Plato. No surprise, really, for a student to be saying something the teacher has said before. We are all turning the same questions around in our minds. Is it any wonder that the insights of one generation should be embraced as their own by the next? We all think we’re so different from those who came before us, when all we are is a different draft of the same creative work.

      I have a stack of books resentful that yet another book should leap ahead of them, gathering dust as they are awaiting my interest to return to them. All those books on shelves represent the aspirations of who we once were, looking towards a brighter future of enlightenment. That potential still resides there on the shelf like buried treasure, should we return to it one day.

      We will all leave this world with unanswered questions. Like books on a shelf we never got to, even with the best of intentions. It was always meant to be this way—we just have to discover that fact at our own pace.

    • The Work Itself

      Is it time for the next project
      because the clock or calendar
      say it’s time,
      or because the work itself
      says it’s time?
      — Rick Rubin, The Creative Act: A Way of Being

      I have people in my life who think it’s eery when I can hear someone pull into the driveway when everyone else in the room hears nothing. Yet I struggle to hear people in a crowded room. It’s a different kind of hearing, I believe. The former is more about feeling or sensing a change. The latter is picking out one voice in a crowd and completely hearing that person.

      What does all this mean? Maybe that I’d be a great therapist but a lousy waiter. Or maybe simply that I ought to get my ears checked one of these days. We must learn what our strengths are, but also our weaknesses.

      When we do work that doesn’t matter to us, we feel the grind. Time drags and it all feels meaningless. Even work that once felt exciting changes as we change. We drift from the purpose that brought us there. In that drift, we often find ourselves asking, “Where do we go from here?’ The answer is whispering, but we don’t always hear it.

      When we are wrapped up in work that matters, we sense the path we’re on is the right one. We are attuned to our creative voice or muse as it whispers to us. Sensing it’s what we were meant to do in this moment, transcending time and place. Flow happens. And if we’re lucky, so does that elusive byproduct, magic.

    • This Little Spark

      “You’ve got to be crazy. It’s too late to be sane. Too late. You’ve got to go full-tilt bozo. ‘Cause you’re only given a little spark of madness, and if you lose that, you’re nothing. Note, from me to you. Don’t ever lose that cause it keeps you alive” — Robin Williams, Come Inside My Mind

      What keeps us alive is more than air and water and food. What keeps us alive is adventure and mischief, discovery and creative output, deep thoughts and thrilling moments. Aliveness is captured energy in the moment before it moves on to the next vehicle. We’re all just batteries holding on to energy for some amount of time before we concede it to the next generation. We ought to use that little spark for exhilaration in our time.

      Batteries are drawn down in time, but they can also be recharged. I’m plunging into cold water again. Two days in a row, and for as many as I can string together until the water warms up enough that it’s no longer a cold water plunge. And my goodness, how I’ve missed the adrenaline high though all of this orange-tinted darkness of the world. To hell with the darkness. We must do the things that bring us energy, and hold the line for light and being.

      As Robin Williams once reminded us in a memorable character, carpe diem! Seize the day! We only have this one go at things. So go! We can all do our own version of full-tilt bozo, making memorable in this gift of a life. What’s the alternative? We’ll rest soon enough.

    • The Attentive Student

      “To venture causes anxiety, but not to venture is to lose one’s self. And to venture in the highest is precisely to be conscious of one’s self.” ― Søren Kierkegaard

      For better or worse, the life I built around venturing changed during the pandemic and again when I changed jobs last year. The hotel, air carrier and rental car status and points have faded to nothing. The blog used to feature more travel, and now I venture inward more often than I cross borders. So it goes—and so it must go.

      An inclination to venture is a lovely thing indeed, but it’s the self that we are seeking to find. To constantly be in motion without slowing down to examine the self is evasive. Sooner or later we’ve got to become aware of who we are and what we’re doing with the time we have. My time has grown more productive simply by slowing down enough to be present.

      The travel is booked and will happen soon enough, if fate allows. We can steer the ship but cannot control the wind. Life will determine itself moment-to-moment. Our job is to take it all in and assess where we are and what to do with what we have. From there we venture where we may.

      To know the self ought to be our highest aspiration. So do travel, but also read and meander observantly through the garden and most of all, listen to what the universe is telling us. Each day is a lesson awaiting the attentive student. Bon voyage.

    • Gaps Closed

      “How can you love someone whom you do not even see?”
      ― Anthony de Mello, Awareness

      Sometimes having something to say doesn’t mean we ought to say it. Sometimes keeping those thoughts to ourselves is the best contribution we can make in the moment. A great filter has saved me countless times. A poor filter has derailed me more often than I care to admit (imagine what an unfiltered mind would do if it were running the world? …uh, never mind).

      Writing this blog will not change the world. It’s currently clunky to navigate, impossible to categorize, has horrible SEO, and, if we’re being honest, is a bit repetitive. But it quietly navigates time at its own pace, like its writer, being what it is. And it will be what it will be. With so many choices of which information to digest, you the reader may choose to read or ignore it. Playing with the law of small numbers, we learn to keep score in our own way with the success of any given post. My way is measured in gaps closed.

      This odd little writing habit keeps on going, even when I decide it ought to take a break for a while. Does its quirkiness and place in this world make it a waste of time? Who’s time is being wasted in writing it? Each post is a revelation at best or a meditation on the moment at worst, but they’re each a declaration of who we were when we clicked publish. Writing doesn’t keep us from something else, it’s a path towards a greater self. The more we look the more we learn to see.

    • No Straight Road

      Oh what a crush of People
      Invisible, reborn
      Make their way to into this garden
      For their eternal rest

      Every step we take on earth
      Brings us to a new world
      Every foot supported
      On a floating bridge

      I know there is no straight road
      No straight road in this world
      Only a giant labyrinth
      Of intersecting crossroads

      And steadily our feet
      Keep walking and creating
      Like enormous fans
      These roads in embryo

      Oh garden of white
      Oh garden of all I am not
      All I could
      And should have been

      I know there is no straight road
      No straight road in this world
      Only a giant labyrinth
      Of intersecting crossroads
      — Federico García Lorca, Floating Bridges

      Oh, the twisting, turning road that brought us to here! We believe it would have been easier to have the straight path from there to here, and here to wherever there might be, but that’s not the life we humans have signed up for. We’re here to meander and discover the truth within us, the plot forever thickening, until one day we surprise even ourselves. All we can do is work to make it a real page-turner.

      There are a few turns we ought to have made, it’s clear now. The road looked easier the other way. Easy, it turns out, wasn’t the road to take. Complexity may perplex and frustrate us, but we gain so much for having gone through it. Tell that to the person we once were, as if they’d listen! But that whisper applies to the road ahead, friend. Just what kind of life do we want to look back upon anyway?

      We ought to glance back, but focus ahead. Remembering that we are not just travelers, but builders. We build our life with every choice, one action taken or deferred at a time. So move forward on the path we believe to be right, trusting the choice but verifying we tread on solid ground with each step.

      Tempus fugit, friend. Look up and a third of the year has flown by. How are we filling the time? What kind of road are we on anyway? Knowing the truth that time reveals, be deliberate with these steps ahead, lest we lose the ripe potential of this time forever. There’s still so much yet to be revealed in this epic adventure we call our own. And the road never will be straight or clear. Doesn’t that make it a wonder?

    • Where Do 2500 Blog Posts Bring Us?

      “You must live in the present, launch yourself on every wave, find your eternity in each moment. Fools stand on their island of opportunities and look toward another land. There is no other land; there is no other life but this.” — Henry David Thoreau, The Journals of Henry David Thoreau, 1837-1861

      This is the 2500th blog post published. Countless others never made it this far, but surely influenced me just the same. The process of writing informs, whether the world sees what we write or not. But to publish is to be bold, today, at least for one audacious moment.

      I ask myself, sometimes, what took me so long to come to blogging? I ask myself, why I would ever write another? Each post is a minor victory in productive ritual. Each underscores a strong desire to learn and grow and become something more. A late bloomer coming to a dying art just as reading seems passé to the hip crowd. And yet, once in a while some words resonate with another.

      The thing is, I began writing thinking I might change the world, I ended up changing myself. Talk of heaven and hell is often nothing more than deferring our one and only opportunity to live and be what we will. There is no other life than this, and I’m inclined to go and do and see and be while I can. We know what’s coming for us, and ignore it at our peril.

      So where have 2500 blog posts brought us? It’s always been a call to action to go forth and see new places. And the places! Faraway and deep within, forever seeking the new and interesting. Forever changing, forever changed, with an eye on personal excellence (arete) that will be just out of reach but worth the effort. To make the most of every day we’re blessed with and write a few words about it again and again until one day it ends. One step closer to knowing with each blog published.

      Postscript: In a moment of humbling realization, 2500 blog posts brought a typo in the title, since corrected but forever locked in on social media and emailed articles. We must laugh and toast to nothing. I’m a long way from arete but trying just the same.