Alexandersmap

    Category: Philosophy

    • Caught a Glimpse

      If nothing lasts forever, babe
      Then can we make a start?
      — Mumford & Sons, Rubber Band Man

      Did you notice Jupiter and Mars dancing between the clouds this morning? One moment they’re there, luminescent wonder planets, the next they’re obscured by clouds; there but decidedly not there. Part of me thought I ought to drag out the telescope, part of me thought it impractical given the abundance of clouds making it all but futile to go to the trouble. I write about it instead.

      Yesterday I raked leaves all morning. The oaks had finally shrugged off their burden and slipped into stick season, coating the yard in a thick coat of wet brown leaves. Rain had made the load unsustainably heavy on Saturday morning. By Sunday they were damp enough to not blow away easily but dry enough to fill a tarp and drag them to the woods behind the house. This is how we do it in New Hampshire when we choose to go without power equipment or hired help. I don’t mind the aid of either, mind you, but sometimes you just need to roll up your sleeves and do the work.

      I worked without ear buds, favoring my own thoughts over those of others. There’s a time for a podcast interview or music, and there’s a time to feel your rising heart rate and listen to the damp slide of a full tarp across the lawn. We ought to listen to ourselves now and then just to remind ourselves that we actually have something to say about the matter. We are here, now, doing whatever it is that makes us alive. The gift of presence is that we lock in amber this moment at hand, that we might remember something of it some other day we’re blessed to arrive at.

      The lawn gradually reappeared, like the clouds clearing just enough to see the planets this morning. In those hours of putting mind and muscle to task I wrote a novel in my head, sorted out a list of other priorities in order, and had a long conversation with the person I once was and the person I’m trying to be just ahead on my development curve. The three of us agreed that there’s magic in productivity and purposeful awareness. We catch a glimpse of where we are in such moments. Nothing lasts forever, so why waste any more time than we already have?

    • Your Steps Alone

      There is a road, no simple highway
      Between the dawn and the dark of night
      And if you go, no one may follow
      That path is for your steps alone
      — The Grateful Dead, Ripple

      Life is forever undetermined, awaiting our next step on the path. There are no guarantees of success or assurances of a better tomorrow. We simply must take the next step after this one, with a fix on direction and a glimmer of hope for the outcome we desire.

      It’s easy to forget the splash we ourselves are making in the lives of others. If we’re raised properly, we learn to listen and observe others around us, that we may understand and respond appropriately. We don’t always feel the ripple we make because we’re in the center of it, but we may become aware of our influence in time.

      Look around at the changes life is unfolding around us with the wonder it deserves. It’s ours alone to bear witness, and more, to influence. This is our verse to write, this is our song to sing, this is our path to walk alone. And yet, we aren’t so alone at all, when we see the ripple we’ve made that broadcasts outward even still.

    • Best Intentions

      “We are not our best intentions. We are what we do.” — Amy Dickinson

      I had every intention of doing a kettle bell workout yesterday. Work got away from me early in the morning, we cleaned up the in-laws’ garage and brought bulky artifacts of their previous life to the transfer station, I walked the pup a long way to reward her for her patience on a long drive, and we capped the day with a visit to a beautiful new member of the family. The kettle bells I’d loaded in the truck remained in the truck. Best intentions, but life gets away from us sometimes. The day was otherwise productive and memorable.

      It’s very easy to miss a workout, a blog post or some promise we made to ourselves, and easier still to beat ourselves up over it. ‘Tis better to acknowledge what went well, where we missed the mark and why our best intentions went astray. Forensic analysis identifies gaps in discipline and trends in behavior. Self-awareness leads to changes in our lifestyle, or maybe just more of the same. As with everything, it’s all what we do with the information.

      We are indeed what we do. With apologies to the kettle bells, there was a lot to like in my day yesterday. Last time I checked, today is a new day. So what are today’s intentions now that we’re armed with all this information about yesterday?

    • Unvisited Tombs

      “…for the growing good of the world is partly dependent on unhistoric acts; and that things are not so ill with you and me as they might have been, is half owing to the number who lived faithfully a hidden life, and rest in unvisited tombs.”
      ― George Eliot, Middlemarch

      We may be inspired by the occasional brilliant life that changes the world, or puts a dent in the universe, as Steve Jobs once said. Most of us will never be Steve Jobs, will never ascend to levels once unimagined in humble beginnings, will never have all that much of a ripple at all. And yet we may have a verse.

      Perhaps this blog has been my verse, but more likely than not, it’s but a small footnote in a life lived. We are more than the things we write, after all. Even the most prolific writers have far more in their lives than words written on a page. And yet those words dance with infinity, while we humans have a shelf life.

      I borrowed the quote above from James Clear’s weekly newsletter. I thought immediately of people in my life who have passed on, who lie interred in graves not all that far from where I write this, whom I haven’t visited in some time. I owe them a visit, just as I owe a visit to those still living. At the very least, perhaps a phone call to let them know I’ve been thinking about them. We tend to wonder about the impact we’re having on other’s lives when we don’t ever hear from them. ’tis best to let them know while they’re still around just how much they’ve meant to us.

      I’m under no illusion that I’ll ever be famous. I’ve never aspired to fame, or even fortune. My only goal is to make a positive difference in the lives of the people I care about the most, and to have enough FU money to completely disregard the bastards who would otherwise grind me down. Call that an aspiration if you will, or simply a general guide for living.

      This blog, over the years, may in fact be my way of revealing what is otherwise largely hidden. There’s no doubt that some people in my life follow it closer than I ever expected them to (while others follow it far less than I ever hoped they would), but the vast majority are people I will never meet or interact with. Were I to stop today, life would go on as it usually does, and that’s okay. Because for now at least, mine will too.

      This blog has been my way of dangling who I aspire to be in front of me in a futile attempt to reach personal excellence(arete). I won’t ever reach those heights, but I’ve reached higher than I would have otherwise. My legacy will not be some engraved granite atop a plot of land, but the contribution I made to make the world better than it might otherwise have been. And that, friends, is something to rest in peace with.

    • Purpose Coming to a Head

      The Universe is but the Thing of things,
      The things but balls all going round in rings,
      Some of them mighty huge, some mighty tiny,
      All of them radiant and mighty shiny.

      They mean to tell us all was rolling blind
      Till accidentally it hit on mind
      In an albino monkey in a jungle
      And even then it had to grope and bungle

      Till Darwin came to earth upon a year
      To show the evolution how to steer.
      They mean to tell us, though, the Omnibus
      Had no real purpose till it got to us.

      Don’t you believe it. At the very worst
      It must have had the purpose from the first
      To produce purpose as the fitter bred:
      We were just purpose coming to a head.

      Whose purpose was it? His or Hers or Its?
      Let’s leave that to the scientific wits.
      Grant me intention, purpose, and design —
      That’s near enough for me to the Divine.

      And yet for all this help of head and brain
      How happily instinctive we remain,
      Our best guide upward further to the light,
      Passionate preference such as love at sight.
      — Robert Frost, Accidentally on Purpose

      A hard frost last night had me thinking about Mr. Frost, which had me looking through some poems and quotes, that delivered this delightful nugget. The poem above was published in the March 1961 edition of The Atlantic, well before my time on earth began. But the universe opens up for those who seek more, or at the very least for those who have a subscription to a magazine that offers its entire archive online simply for the asking. We ought to support independent voices for all they offer, not just in complicated times such as these. As we are reminded of when chaos rules, consistency matters a great deal in our march through a great life.

      I spent entirely too much time ignoring poetry as a younger man. I was simply too busy with clever pursuits—or maybe foolish pursuits, it hardly matters. It was when I began writing every day when I was instinctively drawn to poetry. Call it an aspiration for brevity, or a delight in the dance of words, or simply a logical turn towards that which awes. Whatever it is, I saw what I’d been missing and decided to miss as little as possible.

      What is our purpose? We spend too much time dwelling on it, and not nearly enough time pursuing it. Sure, we ought to think about the heading of the compass, but we must set the sails and get moving before the wind dies and we’re left adrift on a cold, dark sea. Sure, that’s a well-worn analogy tossed deliberately into the mix, but heck, what are analogies for but to use in the most obvious moments?

      That digression aside, the question lingers about intention, purpose and design. Poetry prompts such questions, just as art and prose and science do. Humans reaching for some greater truth than what to should have for lunch today naturally evolves over time to form some philosophical core that snowballs into something approaching sublime.

      We might look around and see that the majority isn’t exactly inspiring awe, they’re simply following the easiest path to get through their days. We all fall into that trap now and then, we just can’t allow it to become habitual. Reaching towards our greatest potential is also habitual. It demands that we transcend the limitations of self and strive for a level of perfection and beauty far beyond the limits of our lifetime. That’s on each of us in our time.

    • Declaration

      My declaration
      will be
      absolute.

      An arrival
      in the here
      and the now.

      Then
      there will
      be little else to do.

      I will have become like
      the madman running
      to see the moon
      in the window,
      the hawk
      I saw tracing the cliff edge
      above the river.

      I will be the man
      I have pursued all along
      and finally caught.
      — David Whyte, Mortality My Mistress

      Declarations are nothing without action executed to conclusion. We must learn to keep our promises to ourselves and others, and to back up our words with results. We are where we are because of our actions, not because of some declaration.

      There is a growing awareness that may reveal itself through the accumulation of years. We grow wealthy given time and compounding interest. Call it wisdom or call it experience, it’s collected through deliberate action and an inclination to be present with life as it unfolds before us.

      Not all who grow old grow wise, any more than gathering years mean that we have gathered experience. Gathering is itself a deliberate act.

      Not all who age grow old. Youthful vigor is derived from receptivity multiplied by energy. We are as alive as we allow ourselves to be, no matter our age.

      If an arrival infers place, a declaration suggests direction towards something more. We may savor place while aspiring for more. At least that’s the mindset I have as I arrive at this place with an eye towards the next. Today, we are as fit and wise and wealthy as yesterday has made us. This is nothing but currency to spend as an investment in the present and future person we wish to be.

    • Enjoy Yourself

      Enjoy yourself, it’s later than you think
      Enjoy yourself, while you’re still in the pink
      The years go by, as quickly as you wink
      Enjoy yourself, enjoy yourself, it’s later than you think
      — The Specials, Enjoy Yourself

      Thanks Ted Lasso, for reminding me of this old gem. Joyful noise is my kind of music. I collect it, play it louder than I ought to, dance to it until the knee and ankle remind me that it’s later than I think.

      It’s all going so very quickly, isn’t it? Tempus fugit. Might as well enjoy the ride while it lasts. Sure, the world is a hot mess, the fools will always be foolish, the planet is ready to shrug humanity off for good, but all of that aside, this is the one go at things that we’ll ever have. And sure, the years go fly by. So get up, get out, and dance already.

    • Once Devoted

      “So, preferring death to capture, I accomplished the most astonishing of deeds, and which, more than once, showed me that the too great care we take of our bodies is the only obstacle to the success of those projects which require rapid decision and vigorous and determined execution. In reality, when you have once devoted your life, you are no longer the equal of other men, or rather other men are no longer your equals; and whosoever has taken this resolution feels his strength and resources doubled.” — Alexander Dumas, The Count of Monte Cristo

      As I march through a thousand pages of The Count of Monte Cristo, I wonder why I used this book for years as nothing more than a way to lift my laptop up a couple of inches for a better Teams shot. I know the answer already; I simply wasn’t ready to read it then. Now I am and I use the time to devour it. In reading, I mine golden nuggets like the quote above, to ponder and write about.

      Most of us barely scratch the surface of our potential, but the truly great among us reach levels hardly imagined by the average. And thank goodness for that! Who are the average to determine the heights to which the great may reach? Do we wonder at such things as personal excellence nearly enough, or are we content to just be what we’ve always been? Just who are we to wallow in average when arete whispers to us, “Just ahead, if you’ll only keep going beyond this present level.”

      Perhaps we may agree that purposeful action elevates us beyond the norm. We may disagree on whether we ought to be chasing such dreams, when things are comfortable enough as they are. It’s okay to be average, it’s okay to settle; it’s just not excellence. The point is, there’s still time to exceed our expectations of ourselves. At least for now. There’s still time to do and dare, but dare not wait a moment longer.

    • October Initium

      My life a spreading ring
      of quiet, like the trout’s brief
      in-breath
      at the surface of a river,
      like the slow
      outward movement of a raindrop
      spreading on a still lake.
      — David Whyte, Death Waits

      Initium is the Latin word from which initiate is derived. It simply means a beginning. Today is the first day of October, which seems an appropriate day to begin something beyond a new month. We don’t have to wait for New Year’s Day for such things as life change, we simply need to decide to begin.

      What is a great life but the steady expansion of personal experience? We are collectors of days, filled with that which enriches us. To leave a day empty feels wasteful. Do something with the gift, or squander it. We rise each day facing the same choice.

      Initiative is only the beginning. We must act upon it. On this first day of October, seize what flees. Carpe diem.

    • Killing Follies

      “The overflow of my brain would probably in a state of freedom have evaporated in a thousand follies. It needs trouble and difficulty and danger to hollow out various mysteries and hidden mines of human intelligence. Pressure is required, you know, to ignite powder.” — Alexander Dumas, The Count of Monte Cristo

      Do you wish for a superpower? Learn to focus. Delete the app, turn off all notifications and put the phone away. This, I know, is an impossible ask in this day and age. We are all so very dependent on our phones (perhaps you’re reading this blog on it right now).

      Honestly, I struggle too, to eliminate a thousand follies. We are super-connected, after all. This should in itself be a superpower, but alas, it’s simply a series of distractions that keep us from diving deep into the well of thought and insight.

      How to focus?

      Go analog. Pick up a classic book like The Count of Monte Cristo, a thousand pages of “I’ll read that someday” deferment, and sequester yourself from all that would draw your attention away to immerse yourself in another world. You’ll be in good company. It’s impossible to know how many people have read this classic, but estimates run in the tens of millions over the almost two centuries since it was first published. Truly a novel that stands the test of time.

      Go for a walk. Leave the device behind and listen to the wind through the trees, or raindrops on leaves, or how wildlife reacts to your presence. Sometimes they go silent, sometimes they chirp a warning to others, sometimes they scurry away with a telltale rustle of leaves. To be present with in the wild is to be connected in the best possible way: no power cord required.

      Write. Journal or write a blog or a full novel if you want. The point is to listen deeply to what we harbor within and turn it out onto the page. All the AI mining in the world won’t duplicate what we find within, if we learn to listen to ourselves and find our own voice. To leave our verse unsaid is the ultimate betrayal to those who wish to hear it.

      Practice presence. Like Thich Nhat Hanh washing dishes relaxingly, we may be fully present with the task at hand. I try to practice this in the garden, walking the dog, commuting in traffic and standing in line at the grocery store. Sometimes I get it right, and sometimes I miss badly. Try again, I tell myself, and sometimes I do better the next time, or maybe the time after that. Presence is a lifetime practice. Be patient.

      The trick, I think, is to question everything that would draw our attention away from that which we desire to focus on the most. In order to do anything, we have to say no far more than yes. What will it be for you and me? We should kill off those follies as they try to steal away our attention. For we have bigger fish to fry.