Alexandersmap

    Category: Productivity

    • Not Everything Dies

      Dear heart, I shall not altogether die.
      Something of my elusive scattered spirit
      shall within the line’s diaphanous urn
      by Poetry be piously preserved.
      — Samuel Beckett, Non Omnis Moriar

      Samuel Beckett’s first stanza is a mic drop precisely because we feel the truth in it. Non Omnis Moriar—not everything dies—because we create ripples that reverberate and live beyond our fragile bodies. Our lifetime contribution in relationships and in our work has the opportunity to outlast us. What will it say?

      It might say something of our spirit, our willingness to share and grow and offer something of consequence in a world fraught with characters with no such inclinations. Perhaps it will be that one line, read at the right time, that turns history towards hope. Too bold? Shouldn’t we be? Our work is our time capsule to a future without us, no doubt, but it might also be a time capsule to a future us, older and wiser (perhaps) and looking for evidence that we lived a life of purpose.

      As this is published, we’re a few days into the New Year, when bold plans for a larger life take hold in our imagination. Creating anything meaningful daily amplifies and extends this feeling to the rest of the year and the rest of our lives. When we look at our lives as a creative work, we move beyond the timidity of everyday living and tap into our unrealized potential. We figuratively raise the bar on what we expect of ourselves, and seek to exceed it on our next attempt. In this way our contribution grows even as we grow.

      The question, O me! so sad, recurring—What good amid these, O me, O life?
      Answer.
      That you are here—that life exists and identity,
      That the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse.
      — Walt Whitman, O Me! O Life!

      If your mind immediately leaps to the Dead Poet’s Society follow-up question, then we share the same cultural influences. And isn’t it an example of not everything of the poet dying? Robin Williams, as John Keating, asks his class, “What will your verse be?” We ought to let the question linger a few beats longer. And then get down to the business of answering it for ourselves. It follows that we should be earnest in this pursuit, for it will take a lifetime. And, just maybe, then some.

    • We Are a Spark

      “The universe has no timeless geography. The universe is a happening. The universe is an explosion. Galaxies continue to fly through the universe away from each other at colossal speeds…
      You and I also began with the Big Bang, because all substance in the universe is an organic unity. Once in a primeval age all matter was gathered in a clump so enormously massive that a pinhead weighed many billions of tons. This ‘primeval atom’ exploded because of the enormous gravitation. It was as if something disintegrated. When we look up at the sky, we are trying to find the way back to ourselves…
      But what is this earthly substance? What was it that exploded that time billions of years ago? Where did it come from?” “That is the big question.” “And a question that concerns us all very deeply. For we ourselves are of that substance. We are a spark from the great fire that was ignited many billions of years ago.” — Jostein Gaarder, Sophie’s World: A Novel About the History of Philosophy

      When you look at the stars, do you feel the connection? When you scan the horizon from a mountain summit or along the ocean shore, do you wonder at how big the world is or reflect on how small we are? When we look up to the stars, aren’t we reuniting with our kindred energy? For if the universe is a happening, so too each of us is happening right now. It’s our mission to meet this, our fragile moment.

      Each star, and our own sun, is a spark from the Big Bang burning in their time. So it is that we too are a spark from the great fire. These, friends, are our days. As we collectively begin another trip around the sun, it’s worth asking, what bold vision sparks our imagination? Feel how it stirs our embers. Can we realize it in our time?

      Life is a precious few moments before our stardust returns to the universe. This might horrify us, or light a bonfire. Choose fire.

    • We Begin Again

      You always have two options.
      You can push harder.
      You can remove friction.
      — Greg McKeown

      We all know where we should push harder in our lives to reach personal goals. We also ought to think more about elimination. Shedding ourselves of artificial expectations and dreams that don’t resonate. Moving away from habits, tasks, people or careers that create tremendous friction in our path to a better life. Sometimes we can’t see the gaps because our way is jammed with trivial distractions. We must clear the gap to see how far we must leap.

      So it is that we begin again, reconciling accumulation (bad habits, weight, things, acquaintances, etc.) and the gap between where we are and where we wish to be. This shouldn’t be a once-a-year exercise, it should be a daily reflection. We have our stack of days ahead of us, and the gift of each should be measured and contemplated just the same. But how?

      Intentions are nothing, action is everything. Incremental improvement trumps grand plans, and each day, each bite or sip, each step, each page read, each meaningful conversation and each written word bring us closer to whatever compass heading we’ve set for ourselves. Alternatively, we can incrementally drift off course to a point where major changes are forced upon us. Don’t we owe it to ourselves to make the choice for ourselves instead of having it imposed on us?

      Tell me, what is it you plan to do
      with your one wild and precious life?
      —Mary Oliver, The Summer Day

      Mary Oliver’s words inspire bold dreams, and there’s nothing wrong with dreaming big. But to be attained we must break those dreams down into bite-sized habits. Today, like many of you, I will assess where things are, make a course adjustment and begin again. I won’t do this with bold, unattainable goals with unrealistic timeframes but with a few incremental changes I can track daily. I’ll take the shiny new calendar and map out the big trips and events that should be highlights for the year and identify time to add micro-adventures and brief flings with bolder living.

      Sailors have their log book, and so too should we. Log each day and reflect on it. My personal favorite is the line per day journal, which boils down each day into whatever notable thing you choose to write down. I’ve been doing this for a few years now and strongly recommend it. In fact I just gave each of my kids a LEUCHTTURM1917 Some Lines A Day 5 Year Memory Notebook to begin this habit themselves, but you don’t have to spend much to seed a habit — a simple notebook will do. The point is to begin doing it and never break the streak. Magic ensues.

      This year I’m doubling down on my line per day by adding a picture per day, using an iPhone and an album dedicated just to this. Combined, these habits should be fascinating for me (if perhaps exceedingly dull for the rest of the world). If nothing else, each forces us to add a spark to the moment at hand and wonder to our lives.

      If we don’t step out on the dance floor we’ll forever be wallflowers. You know what’s more fun than stepping out onto the dance floor? Dancing to the dance floor. Remove friction, work hard on what matters most and track progress. Find your groove thing and let it loose. That, friends, will make the New Year meaningful in the end.

    • Making a List, Checking it Twice

      “There are good checklists and bad…. Bad checklists are vague and imprecise. They are too long; they are hard to use; they are impractical. They are made by desk jockeys with no awareness of the situations in which they are to be deployed. They treat the people using the tools as dumb and try to spell out every single step. They turn people’s brains off rather than turn them on. Good checklists, on the other hand, are precise. They are efficient, to the point, and easy to use even in the most difficult situations. They do not try to spell out everything—a checklist cannot fly a plane. Instead, they provide reminders of only the most critical and important steps—the ones that even the highly skilled professionals using them could miss. Good checklists are, above all, practical.” — Atul Gawande, The Checklist Manifesto: How to Get Things Right

      The pandemic messed up a lot of us in different ways, and for me it was inconsistency in following through on commitments I’d made to myself. Row 5000 meters one day, then miss several days in a row. Hike in earnest for several months, then take several months off from it entirely. Write on that first draft for a few weeks and then miss a few. Work suffered similarly from such lapses. This level of inconsistency simply wouldn’t do.

      At some point my scattered brain returned to Bullet Journals as the way to organize my days. The simple checklist of things that must be done, and the joy of putting an X through that bullet, became a system I could stick with. Checklists work for me by adding focus and structure. If you put an X through every bullet you’re far more likely to get the result you’re seeking. The secret is in having the right bullets.

      Checklists solve the problem of inconsistency. We’re all familiar with the process of goal-setting. We begin with identifying a big goal, then break it down into measurable steps and then take these steps and break them down into tasks. Tasks live their best lives on a checklist. When you leave them roaming about on their own they cause trouble.

      If your big goal is to visit Paris in 2023, you might have steps that include saving money for the trip, improving your conversational French, and locking in the trip with reservations. The tasks might be setting up automatic deductions from your paycheck to a dedicated savings account, completing an hour of Duolingo lessons each day and scheduling your lunch hour to research and book flights, hotels and activities in Paris. These tasks all become bullets in the Bullet Journal.

      It should be more complicated than that, but really, most of life is showing up and doing the work. The trick is to work on what matters most. The trap that many of us fall into is feeling so self-confident that we begin to wing it. This is where critical steps are missed. We can all think of incidents big and small where some forgotten step led to problems later. Making a list, checking it twice eliminates the forgotten step. Remember that old idiom: the devil is in the details.

      As I write this it’s Christmas Eve in chilly New Hampshire. I’ve reviewed my checklists, and feel comfortable that everyone who was nice will be taken care of tomorrow. The process of using checklists ensures that all the details in my control are covered. That in itself is quite nice.

    • Listen Carefully, Spend Wisely

      Colm Doherty: I just have this tremendous sense of time slipping away from me, Pádraic. And I think I need to spend the time I have left thinking and composing. Just trying not to listen to any more of the dull things that you have to say for yourself.
      Pádraic Súlleabhain: Are you dying?
      Colm Doherty: No, I’m not dying.
      Pádraic Súlleabhain: But then you’ve loads of time.
      Colm Doherty: For chatting?
      Pádraic Súlleabhain: Aye.
      Colm Doherty: For aimless chatting?
      Pádraic Súlleabhain: Not for aimless chatting. For good, normal chatting.
      Colm Doherty: So, we’ll keep aimlessly chatting, and me life’ll keep dwindling. And in twelve years, I’ll die with nothing to show for it, bar the chats I’ve had with a limited man, is that it?
      — Martin McDonagh, The Banshees of Inisherin

      There’s a darkness in this film that is borne of desperation. The characters react to the bleak reality of their lives in different ways. Colm and Pádraic’s sister, Siobhan Súilleabháin, desperately seek something beyond their relentlessly trivial existence. Pádraic sees nothing at all wrong with living out his days one exactly the same as the one before. And this raises the central question of the film, one we all faced at the height of the pandemic: what are we actually doing with our time? Is this all there is for us, or might we create something meaningful that lives beyond us before we pass? These are questions many of us wrestle with, while others contentedly choose more of the same. We each reconcile our brief dance with the world in our own way.

      These questions are timeless, even if we aren’t. Indeed, this temporary shelf life drives us to find answers. Our old friend Thoreau famously observed in the beginning pages of Walden that “the mass of men live lives of quiet desperation”. We bear the weight of these questions still, amplified by that realization that time is slipping away. Memento mori, friends. Carpe diem.

      The thing is, we shouldn’t despair at the thought. There ought to be freedom in that realization. We have an opportunity to amplify our living, and make it resonate in our time. We have the opportunity to create something that lives beyond ourselves, something that ripples. Alternatively, we might simply live. Neither choice is wrong, unless we’re quietly telling ourselves it is. The answer for each of us is to listen carefully, and spend wisely.

    • We Are Growing Volcanoes

      “Countless things that humanity acquired in earlier stages, but so feebly and embryonically that nobody could perceive this acquisition, suddenly emerge into the light much later... All of us harbor concealed gardens and plantings; and, to use another metaphor, we are, all of us, growing volcanoes that approach the hour of their eruption; but how near or distant that is, nobody knows—not even God.” — Fredrich Nietzsche, The Gay Science

      “I prefer to understand the rare human beings of an age as suddenly emerging late ghosts of past cultures and their powers—as atavisms of a people and its mores: that way one really can understand a little about them. Now they seem strange, rare, extraordinary; and whoever feels these powers in himself must nurse, defend, honor, and cultivate them against another world that resists them, until he becomes either a great human being or a mad and eccentric one—or perishes early.” — Fredrich Nietzsche, The Gay Science

      Most of us feel the changes within ourselves, pushing us beyond our previous boundaries. Change is uncomfortable yet necessary, for aren’t we meant to grow? Nurtured or resisted by the host, we learn over time. We are, each of us, growing volcanoes.

      The thing is, the rest of the world doesn’t like volcanoes very much. Who wants volatility and fire? Volcanoes are disruptive. Volcanoes are change agents that turn the landscape upside down. The world wants tranquility and sameness. The world wants us to remain dormant.

      Forget the world. Volcanoes are builders. They create islands where there were once only waves. They create mountains where there was once only thin air. For all the fuss at the time, it isn’t until things cool down a bit that we see just what was created. For the world to grow we volcanoes need to tap into what’s deep inside.

      The very process of becoming is inherently dynamic and disruptive. Nobody feels this more than the volcano. But we must let our creative forces flow or we’re doomed to explode. History is filled with explosive characters who made a real mess of things in their time. We aren’t here to make a mess, we’re here to build something bigger than ourselves. When we let ourselves become what we want to be, that pressure is relieved. Flow is creative expression released. The trick is to flow, not blow.

    • Paddling Our Own Canoe

      “As one goes through life, one learns that if you don’t paddle your own canoe, you don’t move.” — Katharine Hepburn

      “We are taught you must blame your father, your sisters, your brothers, the school, the teachers – but never blame yourself. It’s never your fault. But it’s always your fault, because if you wanted to change you’re the one who has got to change.” — Katharine Hepburn

      This is a powerful combination of punches landed by Hepburn, isn’t it? You can almost hear her voice speak as she points out what we all ought to hear now and then. Life is what we make of it, and the buck stops here. Simple, yet so many stew in the miserable broth of low agency salted in blaming others. Do we want to have a better life? Put down the blame salt. Begin by looking in the mirror.

      I’m looking out the window at freshly fallen snow. Just enough to coat everything, not enough to be particularly consumed with clearing it off the driveway. But I’ll likely clear it anyway. To be effective in our lives, we must face the world squarely as it presents itself to us and decide what to do, given the circumstances. Identity plays a part in this moment. When you identify yourself as someone who gets things done, you get the snow off the driveway. When you identify yourself as someone who delegates, you push the problem to others. Which is correct? It depends on the circumstances, of course, but in general subscribing to the paddling your own canoe philosophy does wonders for our quality of life.

      I know, I know: Time is money, and it’s not worth our precious time to do menial tasks that are better delegated to others. Maybe, if you’ve got the money and inclination, hiring a personal assistant, or a landscaper, a chef, or a maid is your answer so you aren’t squandering time on the trivial tasks. Maybe this helps you focus on the important task. But the underlying question must always be, to what end? What are we living for? Is chopping our own wood intrinsically valuable? Isn’t it? How about pushing a light coating of snow off the driveway? Just what is the stuff of life anyway?

      The answer is that the stuff of life is what we make it out to be. We derive meaning and purpose out of whatever the heck we choose to derive it from. For me, clearing a bit of snow off the driveway is a cheap form of meditation, a moderate form of exercise, and a chance to assess where I am in my life this crisp morning. I take stock of where I’ve done well, and where I’ve strayed off course in my objectives. This is where the shovel hits the road, if you will, and where I decide just what I’m going to be today so that I might get straight away to being it.

      Change begins with introspection in space. We must give ourselves the room to find the answers to our questions. And in the answer lies the action: Goals are broken down into projects, which in turn are broken down into tasks. Celebrate the tasks for the direction they carry you. This, friends, is paddling our own canoe.

    • Cultivating Discernment

      “The task of the craftsman is not to generate the meaning, but rather to cultivate in himself the skill for discerning the meanings that are already there.” — Hubert Dreyfus, All Things Shining

      “Just as we don’t spend a lot of time worrying about how all those poets out there are going to monetize their poetry, the same is true for most bloggers.” — Seth Godin

      At some point, several years ago, I was finally convinced to just begin writing a blog. At some point, not very long after that moment, I finally understood that the best reason to write a blog was to cultivate the art of writing better and the art of discernment. The two go hand-in-hand, and combined make us more engaged and active participants in living.

      The habit stuck, the streak continues, the writing may even be improving, but if there’s anything that has improved exponentially in these years of posting it’s honing that art of discernment. We learn to observe nuance and craft something of it. And then? Do it again the next day.

      There are very successful bloggers out there who have developed a large base of followers, subscribers and subsequently, advertisers. This is not one of those blogs. This is an act of discernment, cultivated daily. I suppose that in itself may be successful enough.

    • This Is the Way

      “I believe that above the entire human race is one super-angel, crying “Evolve! Evolve!” Angels are like muses. They know stuff we don’t. They want to help us. They’re on the other side of a pane of glass, shouting to get our attention. But we can’t hear them. We’re too distracted by our own nonsense. Ah, but when we begin….we get out of our own way and allow the angels to come in and do their job. They can speak to us now and it makes them happy. It makes God happy. Eternity, as Blake might have told us, has opened a portal into time. And we’re it.”
      — Steven Pressfield, The War of Art

      “Most of us have two lives. The life we live, and the unlived life within us. Between the two stands Resistance.” — Steven Pressfield, The War of Art

      Being too distracted by our own nonsense is something we all deal with. It’s like seeing our goal just on the other side of a rushing mountain stream, meandering rock-to-rock looking for a way forward, every step a risk of being swept away. Some choose to just let the current take them where it will. Others seem to get across with ease. We, the would-be writers and artists and craftswomen and men, struggle for tangible forward progress one small step at a time. Swept now and then downstream, we get back on our feet and begin again.

      Pressfield invokes the Muse to see him through. Beginning the work is a bold leap to that first stepping stone. Doing the work every damned day is the next stone and the one after that. We do the work or we get swept away. It’s really no secret at all, is it?

      And yet we all struggle at times to find our meaningful routine. This blog is one routine of many for me, you surely have similar routines yourself. Surely I focus too much on the stream, I’ve used this analogy before but still reconcile myself with the current. I won’t pretend to have it all figured out, but the blog indicates the path I’ve taken. Perhaps it’s folly, this self-absorbed pursuit of becoming something more, but we see the changes in ourselves by tracking our progress. All with an eye forward.

      The point is to listen to those angels crying out for us to evolve. Break through the Resistance and cross the chasm between our ears. Listen and see! Forget the current and just take the next step across. For this is the way.

    • Imagining What’s Next

      “Life is a blank canvas, and you need to throw all the paint on it you can.” ― Danny Kaye

      We’ve all seen enough musicians creating songs out of thin air to know there’s something to the process of fiddling around. We’ve seen cooking shows where a jumble of random ingredients are turned into an incredible plate. We’ve all seen improvisation where the cast builds from whatever cue they were left with and creates magic with it. This figuring it out with what we’ve got as we do it is part of the creative process, yet we don’t always give ourselves the same license to do just that. We simply never begin.

      Some days you look at the blank canvas and go blank yourself. Some days you can throw everything you’ve got in yourself at it. The trick is to just begin. and be open enough to let what’s next flow out of you. We shouldn’t get so caught up in the imaging what’s next part. We ought to just start, awkwardly perhaps, but still a start. And do it with gusto. We forget we can paint over mistakes. We can delete entire scenes. We can move on and start anew. Life demands only the start. The next can change as we do.

      Beginning with the finished work in mind may seem the logical starting point, like setting your destination into the GPS. But a creative life doesn’t always work that way. When we face the blank canvas in art and writing and building a new life a step away from our old life, sometimes simply working with whatever ingredients we have in our personal pantry and figuring it out as we go along is our way past blank. Do the work enough and we may just realize that blankness is nothing but a point of progression towards what’s next.