Alexandersmap

    Category: Relationships

    • Third Things

      “Third things are essential to marriages, objects or practices or habits or arts or institutions or games or human beings that provide a site of joint rapture or contentment. Each member of a couple is separate; the two come together in double attention. Lovemaking is not a third thing but two-in-one. John Keats can be a third thing, or the Boston Symphony Orchestra, or Dutch interiors, or Monopoly.” — John Hall, The Third Thing

      We have our self, we have our selves, and we have what we are mutually focused on in our time together. Like being on teams, whether sports or companies or projects worked on with mutual focus and effort, that thing we focus on together becomes a link that bonds us in the moment and forever after. A long-term relationship is simply coexisting with someone else with mutual attention on a series of third things we carry with us for the rest of our days.

      Our hiking friends have the mountains and expanding red lines on trail maps as their third thing. Our sailing friends scheme of bigger boats and tropical anchorages. Our lake friends are quietly carving out a life as snowbirds and the idea of growing old in a forever summer lifestyle. My sister and brother-in-law have found pickleball a useful third thing bringing them fitness and an expansive social life. We’re all different, and so too are the things we give our lives to in mutual focus.

      Third things capture a time in our life that we’ll remember one day when the math is no longer one plus one plus one more thing. We may be aware of such things as subtraction without dwelling on it. We all know the score. For it’s a thing too. Sha-la, la-la-la-la, live for today…

      What do we—together—focus on other than ourselves? The list comes easily at times. The frisbee-loving pup. The house and whatever the latest project is that my bride has deemed essential to our well-being. Always, the children, then aspiring student-athletes, now adults. Increasingly, the parents, and all that aging parents mean for them… and for us. Travel and collecting experiences once deferred for other third things. Third things are our common ground, focused on together yet differently. A part of us, yet not us.

    • The Joyful Stir

      “You must learn to drink the cup of life as it comes … without stirring it up from the bottom. That’s where the bitter dregs are!” — Agnes Sligh Turnbull

      Celebrating the holidays is easy when we’re around friends and family. It’s not as easy for those who are alone. Some are blessed with an abundance of people in their lives through proximity and an inclination for connection. Some go out of their way to stay away. Be yourself, but know that you always have a place at our table.

      I have two neighbors who have lived next to each other for a quarter century who won’t make eye contact with each other but go out of their way to say hello to everyone else who walks up the street. Some people are naturally closer than others. Something was said, some point of contention remains, stubborn righteousness kicks in and the years go by with scarcely a nod between them. It’s extraordinary to behold.

      Generational baggage clings to some families. Like my two neighbors, whatever it was that happened, it never fades away. Awareness reveals entire family histories. A family may be at the same Christmas party and be as far away from each other as if they were in separate countries, while laughing and bonding with the rest of us. Why? Only they know, but the holidays are no time to stir up the bitter dregs.

      We ought to learn to be alone, if only to ensure that when we inevitably are, we aren’t so lonely. To be alone in a room full of people is an inclination, as much as not being lonely when there’s nobody there but us and the ticking clock. Joyfulness is an active-participation sport, and we reap what we sow. We ought to learn to let bygones be bygones, even in these contentious, divided times, and find a way back to connection. We must keep stirring joy, for when something is bitter, a little sweetener goes a long way.

    • The Shared Secret

      Fool if you think it’s over
      ‘Cos you said goodbye
      Fool if you think it’s over
      I’ll tell you why
      New born eyes always cry with pain
      At the first look at the morning sun
      You’re a fool if you think it’s over
      It’s just begun
      — Chris Rea, Fool (If You Think It’s Over)

      Life is pain, as the Dread Pirate Roberts told Buttercup in The Princess Bride. It’s full of setbacks and sadness, betrayals and “between jobs” lean living. But it’s also full of climbs to redemption and epic comebacks and the finding of strides. The trick is to see beyond the pain of the moment and find a way to a better place beyond. To remember, always, that this too shall pass.

      Chris Rea passed away yesterday. He was bigger in the EU than he was in America, but he had that one ear worm of a song that stayed with you, reminding you that there will be more breakups and sad days in our future, but just keep singing your song and try again with the next one. And sure, there’s a life lesson there that resonates about pain and resilience and such very human things. Nobody said this would be easy.

      We look around one day and realize that we’ve been very lucky indeed with some things, not so lucky with some other things, but we’ve arrived here nonetheless. Wherever here is. Whatever we’re supposed to do with what we’ve arrived with. The lesson is to keep on figuring things out. That’s the shared secret we’re all working from. To keep on facing whatever life throws at us next and begin again.

    • Connection

      “Ye live not for yourselves; ye cannot live for yourselves ; a thousand fibres connect you with your fellow-men, and along those fibres, as along sympathetic threads, run your actions as causes, and return to you as effects.” — Reverend Henry Melvill

      On Author’s Ridge at Sleepy Hollow Cemetery in Concord, Massachusetts the legends are interred—Emerson, Hawthorne, Alcott, Thoreau and others. I’ve visited and written about Author’s Ridge many times in this blog, because it fascinates me that so many who reached such literary fame would then choose to spend eternity in such close proximity to one another. Emerson once said that “the only way to have a friend is to be one”. The legendary families of Concord lived this so deeply that they carried it over to death.

      There are only a few people who we count as true friends, but we build connection with countless people. Our connections form a network that serves us even as we serve the network. Each individual connection may be tenuous, but woven together with many others, trust is built, reputations are formed, careers are made and communities grow into something special.

      We learn that connections are dynamic. Some people that were simply connections grow into true friends, and some true friends slip back to connections. The fabric of our connections is dynamic and ever-changing, just as we ourselves change. We receive what we nurture. Connections form over time—but they also inform over time. We learn which connections will run deep and which are merely transactional in the moment.

      Some would say that it’s a little harder to have such connections as the Concord authors had now. We don’t all live in such close proximity today. Technology may make it easier to be connected, but it’s also an active agent in pulling us apart. To be connected, we must do our part to maintain that connection. Some people are just natural connectors, but it’s nothing more than checking in on someone now and then to see how they’re doing. Do it enough and a few actually check in on us too. We don’t have to consider eternity when we reach out, simply finding connection today is enough.

    • Unbroken Links

      “That was a memorable day to me, for it made great changes in me. But it is the same with any life. Imagine one selected day struck out of it, and think how different its course would have been. Pause you who read this, and think for a moment of the long chain of iron or gold, of thorns or flowers, that would never have bound you, but for the formation of the first link on one memorable day.” ― Charles Dickens, Great Expectations

      I meant to call a few people in my life this week, to wish them a Happy Thanksgiving, to check in on them, to get their perspective on the world and our place in it. I’m someone who calls other people. Not text people or drop them an email or write them a letter—worthy as those may be—but call. The written word may last forever (our version of forever anyway), but to actually speak with someone is a gift of presence.

      How will we be remembered? I suspect I’ll be remembered for being proactively present. Or reliably present. Or perhaps annoyingly so. Maybe there will be relief one day when the calls stop coming in, just for the peace and quiet. Who knows? The only thing I’m certain of is that links corrode and break for lack of attention. Looking back, we tend to have far more people with whom we lose touch with than those we continue to reach out to or hear from. Conversation is a two-way street, or we’d call it a lecture.

      What binds us together? When did this long chain of connection begin? How does it continue, even after all this time? Forming a link is immediate, but maintaining it requires consistent action. Now seems as good a time to touch base as any, whatever the method. We may be a beacon in the darkness, heard from at just the right time.

    • Not for Ourselves Alone

      “Non nobis solum nati sumus ortusque nostri partem patria vindicat, partem amici,”
      (Not for us alone are we born; our country, our friends, have a share in us.) — Marcus Tullius Cicero

      We are alone, and yet a part of something far beyond ourselves. To strive to be an individual is to reach for our potential. But what is all that potential for if not for the greater good? We can thus focus on the self and not be selfish or self-centered. The more we grow, the more we can offer. And this in turn offers us more opportunity still.

      The world is full of selfless people, and has far too many selfish people too. We learn as we get burned. But let’s face it; we have our moments of selfishness too. We must learn to look after ourselves if we are to survive in this world, but our nature is to look after others too. We learn whom to trust deeply, whom to steer clear of, and those who are somewhere in between with whom to form strategic alliances for mutual benefit. Every transaction is a lesson in human tendencies. Trust, but verify.

      The world lately is more complicated by the fractious nature of social media and the erosion of trusted sources of information and leadership. We can acknowledge this and still live by a higher standard of personal excellence. To keep growing into the person we aspire to be, that we may be an anchor for those who might founder in the turbulent, selfish sea that this place and time represents for some.

      Remember that it has always been this way, only the method and scale of communication changes. Community is an investment in the future viability of all that we believe to be sacred and true. Seek out connection and engagement with those with whom we may learn and grow. Not for us alone are we born.

    • Curious and Interested

      “Very little is needed to make a happy life; it is all within yourself, in your way of thinking.” ― Marcus Aurelius

      I took a cab across Manhattan and found myself in a fascinating conversation with the driver. He was 70, clearly fit and handsome and very bright. He’s locally famous (showed me the newspaper articles) for offering stock market advice to his passengers. He’s done everything from real estate investing to being a Chippendales dancer to owner of two cabs. He reminded me of that most interesting man in the world character, and indeed he was as interesting to speak with as you might imagine.

      I’d spent the previous day running into people I’ve known for years at a trade show. We’d each built a life, formed relationships and grown as people. Tenure is a way to form long-standing professional relationships. Being honest and forthright and genuinely interested in the lives of others is an accelerant to forming deeper bonds that last a lifetime. If there was a lesson in my encounters with old friends, it’s that friendship transcends any single job or project.

      “Be curious, not judgmental.” — Walt Whitman

      Just how are we moving through our years? Surely we’ll have moments of boredom and drudgery along the way. But we ought to sprinkle in more things that fascinate us. When we are curious and interested, people in turn are more curious and interested in us. At least that’s my way of thinking about the matter.

    • Beyond Clever

      “There are so many different kinds of stupidity, and cleverness is one of the worst.” ― Thomas Mann, The Magic Mountain

      Clever is one-upmanship. It’s not really listening to what someone is saying, it’s waiting for them to stop talking so you can say something to show how on-the-ball you are. Clever is different from bright and funny. It doesn’t take very long to know you’re in the presence of someone working to be clever. Like porn, we know it when we see it. And we aren’t the better for having stumbled across it.

      I used to work to be clever, until I began to see that clever was weakness on display. It’s a way for insecurity to escape and join the conversation. Whoever really said that it’s “better to remain silent and be thought a fool than to speak and to remove all doubt.” was on to something.

      But then I changed again. When everyone is silently waiting for someone to speak up, there ought to be someone who speaks up. Not to be clever or foolish, but to be engaged. To draw out the perspective of another soul and mix it with our own, just to see what develops. Sometimes nothing much develops, and sometimes there’s magic. Who’s to know which unless we practice a little alchemy?

      The practice of conversational alchemy utilizes empathy and focused listening to draw out deeper conversations with others. Which sounds like a clever way of saying that one is a good listener. But being a good listener doesn’t mean much without having something to offer to the conversation as well. Listening skills are one of the leading indicators of success in life, but so is a willingness to go out and experience things from which to build one’s own knowledge and skill, insight and perspective.

      Unless we have a career as a therapist, socialite, salesperson or investigator, aspiring to be a conversational alchemist shouldn’t be our primary aim. But it’s a life skill worth developing to maximize the experience of living through deeper and richer conversation. We ought to engage with others and learn from their experience as well if we are to reach our own potential within the tribe. The tribal experience isn’t everything, and surely not the only path to personal excellence, but engagement with others offers a broad and rich life, perhaps more than simply going it alone.

      Henry David Thoreau, retreating to his cabin by Walden Pond, had regular visitors and a curated ability to communicate with others. That perspective made him a better writer, even as his inclination to retreat to the woods made him an oddball to some in the community. But that retreat also made him a better writer. We can be both engaged with society and strategically removed from it. The right balance is intuitive. Listening to ourselves is another essential skill developed over time.

      “Seek first to understand, and then to be understood.” — Stephen Covey, The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People

      There’s a reason that seeking to understand makes us highly effective people. Each person we effectively engage with becomes another ally in our growing tribe. It was never about being clever, it’s always been about development of the self in a social world. We may sometimes have a desire to go free solo, but in reality we’re all in this together. Our bond is somewhere well beyond clever waiting for us to reach it.

    • Fully-Valued

      “To get the full value of joy you must have someone to divide it with.” — Mark Twain

      Joy shifts time. It locks moments in amber. It makes years seem like days, even as days seem like minutes. It’s all a collection of joyful minutes, sprinkled with the jolts that life throws at us all. We learn to value our time together for the shared experience of living as the world sweeps past us like a swollen river after a storm.

      Now everyone dreams of love lasting and true
      Oh but you and I know what this world can do
      So let’s make our steps clear that the other may see
      And I’ll wait for you, and if I should fall behind wait for me
      — Bruce Springsteen, If I Should Fall Behind

      We live in our time machine, my bride and I. I know it’s a time machine because I look at old photographs, or think back on certain moments, and when I compare them with the date they were taken I’m shocked by the time that has flown by. We are betrayed by years, but we aren’t yet old. But tell that to the kids and they’ll laugh. Tempus fugit, indeed.

      May your hands always be busy
      May your feet always be swift
      May you have a strong foundation
      When the winds of changes shift
      May your heart always be joyful
      May your song always be sung
      May you stay forever young
      — Bob Dylan, Forever Young

      Printing out a wedding photo, the clerk commented that I look the same as when the picture was taken. Looks are deceiving, I laughed. Health is its own time machine, and for the most part we’ve been blessed with good health, coaxed by fitness and nutrition and good-enough genes. We know that time always wins, no matter what time machine we fly about in. A joyful life softens the landing, but we’ll land one day like all who have come before us.

      Maybe time running out is a gift
      I’ll work hard ’til the end of my shift
      And give you every second I can find
      And hope it isn’t me who’s left behind
      — Jason Isbell and The 400 Unit, If We Were Vampires

      We learn not to worry about what we cannot control. To always be worrying is to forsake joy for uncertainty. The only certainty is this moment together, so make it count in quiet gestures and unspoken ways. Joy is rooted in love: love of life, love for another, love of the moments built one upon the other for as long as this ride may continue. Nothing lasts forever—we know this all too well. But enjoying each something for all it offers is a path to a fully-valued, joyful life.

    • To Love the Expanse Between Us

      “The point of marriage is not to create a quick commonality by tearing down all boundaries; on the contrary, a good marriage is one in which each partner appoints the other to be the guardian of his solitude, and thus they show each other the greatest possible trust. A merging of two people is an impossibility, and where it seems to exist, it is a hemming-in, a mutual consent that robs one party or both parties of their fullest freedom and development. But once the realization is accepted that even between the closest people infinite distances exist, a marvelous living side-by-side can grow up for them, if they succeed in loving the expanse between them, which gives them the possibility of always seeing each other as a whole and before an immense sky.”
      ― Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet

      My bride likes things I shake my head at. Things like programs about serial killers and home remodeling. Those things may not sound similar but in my mind they’re essentially the same thing—innocent people lured into tragic consequences, played out for all to see. She also gushes about shark week all year. It’s can’t-miss programming for her. All programming aspires to be shark week when they grow up. Nothing but bites and blood and thin plot lines with cliffhangers just before the next commercial break. Stop me if you think you’ve seen this one before.

      Me? I’m in the other room reading a book. Or watching a sailing video, or researching the next trip where I’ll force(!) my bride out of her comfort zone doing daring things that involve heights she wants nothing to do with, or daring cross-country escapades that require sleeping in a different bed every night and a willingness to try new foods. No lying on a quiet beach for this vagabond. Not when the maps are full of blank-to-me spaces.

      In short, we’re very different in many ways, yet similar in other ways. Do we focus on the gaps between us, or the things that draw us together? The answer to that determines a happy marriage or a miserable eternal slog praying for the end of time, as Meatloaf used to sing, rest his soul, back when paradise was nothing but a fling illuminated by the dashboard lights. Good luck keeping a marriage going on that illusion. That car better be tuned up, topped off and fitted with new tires, for the journey is long. But isn’t anything worthwhile?

      We reach a point where living side-by-side grows comfortable. We can go an entire drive without saying a word but simply appreciate the time together. We learn to listen for clues hidden in small spaces, and ask questions that get right to the point. Marriage is a journey through time, but also across distance. We’ll never fully close the gap, but why would we ever want to? Be as you are, and give me the space to do the same. That’s where a lifetime together is nurtured. Life isn’t infinite, but it can be marvelous.