Alexandersmap

    Category: Relationships

    • Letter to an Outraged Friend

      My friend, I hope you know I think the world of you. It may seem sometimes that we barely know each other, but those moments are balanced by deep familiarity. We detect patterns and learn each other’s behavior over time. We know what that certain look means, even when we don’t ever mention it by name. Some things are better left unsaid between us.

      But now I feel something needs to be said about outrage. We’ve all been indulging in it lately. I mean, it’s so very easy to be outraged now. The entire planet seems to be addicted to it. And like sugar, we begin to crave it even when we know it’s not good for us. Once we’ve developed a taste for outrage, we look for more things to be outraged by.

      Others, seeing our outrage, go out of their way to do more outrageous things to savor our reaction. There’s nothing like the feeling of owning the room, and the fastest way to that mic drop moment is to double down on the truly outrageous. The real power always lies with the quiet one pulling the strings. All those tech bro billionaires built their fortunes on our outrage. Brilliant scheme for them, not so good for us.

      Yet we don’t have to consume it. We can choose to consume something insightful, rather than to be incited by someone else’s outrageousness. Remember the old expression? Cooler heads prevail. To borrow another expression from a dark chapter in human history: keep calm and carry on. There’s simply no other way for us to move forward than with informed awareness and intent. If we’re all spun up, we can’t do a damned thing but feed the outrage. And that’s exactly what they want of us.

      When someone is outraged to the boiling point, they seek release of that pressure. And so they pour all their accumulated outrage all over the first good listener they come across. Friend, I’m that listener, and I’m tired of being coated in the filth of outrage. It’s not a good look, and really, I just bought this shirt. And since we’re being honest, that outrage doesn’t look all that attractive on you either. Try some cooler colors.

      The world needs so much more than yet another voice in the chorus of the outraged. So throw all that poison aside and focus on what is in our control: How we react to the world around us. We may choose to do something productive with that emotional energy. Donate, volunteer, write a poem, bake a lasagna and feed a hungry neighbor starved for calories and a bit of positive attention. We can do better, you and I. Our future together demands it.

    • Made New Again

      “Love doesn’t just sit there, like a stone; it has to be made, like bread, remade all the time, made new.” — Ursula K. Le Guin

      My bride and I went out to dinner with old friends over the weekend. We hadn’t seen the two couples we met with in some time so there was some catching up to do before we got down to what each is planning for the future. I fancy myself a good listener, and delighted in the company of some exceptional listeners who sought to hear what each party was saying and not simply waiting for a break to jump in with their own take on the world. I delight in a conversation with a person who seeks first to understand, and I do my best to be that person myself.

      Once you’ve raised children together, gone through the succession of jobs and pets and cars and appliances and hobbies that all had their day, we look around and see that the person who’s been there through all of it is still patiently waiting for us to finish stating an opinion they’ve heard us state a hundred times. It may occur to us in such moments that we’ve been every bit as complicated to live with as they have been for us. A long-term relationship is an investment, shared and nurtured equally.

      We put energy into today, that tomorrow we are stronger together. All those fatal flaws that every one of us bring to a relationship are discovered, wrested with and navigated beyond on a course to better. Each day is an encounter with a new version of the person we wanted to spend the rest of our lives with, who’s looking at the latest version of us and deciding what to do with that discovery. Together we grow into something similar, but entirely new.

      The magic is in the rediscovery of that old familiar spark, still burning under the layers of days together. Some days it’s easier to find that spark than other days, but it’s hiding there somewhere, waiting for the fuel and oxygen it needs. So many relationships peter out for neglect, smothered under layers of indifference. Each day is our chance to rekindle and reinvent, to remake and make new. Our future together depends on it.

    • Connecting Miracles

      “There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle.” — Albert Einstein

      I spoke with one of my aunts yesterday. I don’t see her and my uncle all that much now. Really, I don’t see any of my aunts and uncles much now. In fact, most of the people who were central to my identity in the first half of my life are not very present today. Childhood friends and enemies, teammates, old coworkers and that person we went on the nervous date with once upon a time. Life gets busy, we tell ourselves.

      The truth is that we can’t be everywhere at once, and some people who mean the world to us gradually slip away as the gap of time and place grows. A bridge requires strong anchors on both sides, but oftentimes we forget to tend our own end of things. So many people in our lives want for a simple call and conversation. We have more power for connection than we utilize in our frenzied, important lives. And what is really all that important anyway?

      We have this one go at things. When we view our lives as a miracle of infinitesimal chance in the cold expanse of the universe, we may appreciate our waking up to face whatever our day brings us a little better. When we consider our fellow time travelers, living their own miracle moment at the same time that we are, well, perhaps we might appreciate their presence a little more. We are stardust, after all, and so is that older neighbor down the street, that barista serving us go juice and the guy that just cut us off on the highway. All miracles in the moment; starstruck and dumbfounded in where we find ourselves. Go figure.

      Connecting miracles is a mission we opt into. Active engagement with the world is a choice. Using that mobile device to actually make a call instead of watching another curated video is a bridge to someone else who may be in desperate need of a reminder that they too are a miracle. Connection is harder than ever in this world of distraction and outrage, but it’s our choice to make.

    • Living Towards

      “People think being alone makes you lonely, but I don’t think that’s true. Being surrounded by the wrong people is the loneliest thing in the world.”
      ― Kim Culbertson, The Liberation of Max McTrue

      I live in a small town with no traffic lights in New Hampshire that snugs up against Massachusetts. I’ve been here for three decades now and for the life of me I know I’ll never feel like a local despite knowing many of them, watching our children grow up together and watching some of those children begin to have children. How can one spend more than half their years in a town and still feel they’re an outsider?

      I’ve been plotting my escape from this town for years, but then I keep running into people with a shared history and find the conversation pleasant. I stood out in the semi-frozen front yard raking up acorns and wore out my arm waving to neighbors driving past on their way back from Sunday activities. I recognize the patterns of the season in this town, from how the stars align against the hillsides to where the deer go to hide from all the hunters. There’s a rhythm to familiarity that we may wear like a warm coat.

      Life is what we make of it. Where we live, what we do for work, and how much time we spend with people who don’t see the world the way we do is often up to us. We are the light in someone’s day when we encounter them, or we’re a reminder to them that they’ve got to get out of this place. The world largely reflects back what we project out to it. The last few years I’ve projected that I’d rather be somewhere else than this small town. Who can blame the town for feeling the same about me?

      The thing is, we ought to be building our lives towards something, not recoiling from something. It’s a subtle difference, but the latter has us on our heels, the former has us charging ahead. One is regression, one is progression. Don’t we all want to feel like we’re making progress in our lives? When the world seems to be shrinking from us, it’s usually a reflection of our own stance with it. We must lean into our future, wherever we want it to take us. Just be sure to give a wave and a smile to the neighbors, they look like they’re going through some things too.

    • The Wealth of Without

      “We are not rich by what we possess but by what we can do without.” — Immanuel Kant

      We’re heading into the holidays, and holiday consumerism has replaced politics as the distraction du jour. We all know that it’s about to boil over into a frenzy. Honestly, I could do without all of it. Not because I don’t like new, shiny things, but because I want very much to simplify and focus on the abundance of beauty that is already in my life.

      Truth be told, I’ve already been on a spending spree the last few month in the form of the sometimes necessary “out with the old, in with the new” purchases to raise the overall quality of our lives. And I admit that spree has me inclined to reign it all in and reset back to more frugal ways to balance it all out. This is normal of course, all part of the ebb and flow of our financial life. The trick is to keep that balance. Stuff has a way of complicating our lives even as it solves some problem or other, doesn’t it?

      We had visiting friends stay with us for a week, a nice surprise for us and a reminder of what’s truly essential in a world where everyone wants their share of your time. A quiet conversation with friends doesn’t cost much more than the price of a beverage or two. Life without those who mean the most is impoverishment. True wealth is an abundance of equally-invested people in our lives with whom to share the journey.

      When we simplify our lives and focus on the essential, we grow richer in experience and overall happiness. We ought to stop being so busy accumulating distractions in our lives and look for a higher return on investment. To be present in the lives of those we care about the most offers tangible rewards when we spend those limited grains of sand. Shed the excessive and grow truly wealthy.

    • Productive Change

      “Should you find yourself in a chronically leaking boat, energy devoted to changing vessels is likely to be more productive than energy devoted to patching leaks.” ― Warren Buffett

      Some of us are inclined towards change, and force ourselves to stick with things longer than we might otherwise to see them through. Sometimes (as with a great marriage) the journey is worth the ebb and flow of a life together. Other times, as with a job or a house or an acquaintance, you find that the return on investment isn’t working out. Change can be the most productive energy we can spend in such moments.

      It’s possible to stay in a house too long. Neighborhoods change as the neighbors do. The stairs and furniture we’ve easily navigated our whole lives can become impossible obstacles when we grow old and frail. My own neighborhood is full of the same people that were here when I built this house years ago, and I’m seeing it all play out as it did for my in-laws, where they all grew too old to navigate the familiar but did it for too long anyway.

      I recently left a job I’d been in for years when flat year-over-year growth turned into a down year. There was no exit interview, which indicates they feel they have it all figured out. So their chronic leaks will probably continue. My own energy can be put into a better vessel. It turns out my timing was good with a receptive market ready for my skillset. It was never the company brand I was bringing to the market, but my own.

      A sound vessel with a good crew can weather almost any storm. It remains sound through maintenance and awareness of the forces bringing change. The same can be said for the crew. Together they can travel through time and place, picking up tales of adventure along the way. But time conquers all, and eventually the vessel or the crew need to change. Houses can be homes for generations of owners. Companies can grow with a new crew. And people can find a better way though this world on a different vessel.

      Change for its own sake is frivolous and wasteful. Change must be strategic and ultimately productive. But the same can be said for sticking with something instead of changing. It does us no good to forever bail a ship that is clearly sinking. Our habits, systems and routines, alliances with others, organizations we join, companies we represent in the market, the places we live and the vehicles that carry us to them—are all vessels that are either carrying us somewhere or sinking into the abyss. The question we ought to be asking ourselves is, is our energy being put into the right place or is it time for a change?

    • Crossing Bridges

      “When one door closes, fortune will usually open another.” — Fernando de Rojas

      We may navigate the world either closed within ourselves or open to all the possibilities it offers. If I’ve found any truth in my own winding road of a career (let alone life), it’s that opportunities always open up if we ourselves are open to opportunity. We ought to remember that we’re all connected, and by nurturing our connections we may build a bridge to many potential versions of our next self. The trick isn’t to cross the right bridge, the trick is to not burn the one we just crossed.

      When is a bridge too far to cross? Is it switching industries? Jumping to a competitor? Moving to another country or across the one we’re in? Putting up a sign for a political candidate the polar opposite of the one the neighbors have in their yard? In this connected world, I don’t believe we ever really reach a bridge too far so long as we live with character and purpose.

      When a bridge collapses it’s usually a case of one or both sides skimping on maintenance. Never let a bridge rust away from neglect. It doesn’t take much to maintain a connection, and one day we may wish to cross that bridge again. We’re all connected, aren’t we? At least when we want to be.

    • Holding On To the Precious Few

      “Casting aside other things, hold to the precious few; and besides bear in mind that every man lives only the present, which is an indivisible point, and that all the rest of his life is either past or is uncertain. Brief is man’s life and small the nook of the earth where he lives; brief, too, is the longest posthumous fame, buoyed only by a succession of poor human beings who will very soon die and who know little of themselves, much less of someone who died long ago.”
      ― Marcus Aurelius, Meditations

      In a lifetime we may encounter thousands of people. If you search the Internet you’ll find that the average person meets about 80,000 people in their lifetime. Some of us have met that many people before the middle of our presumed lifespan. But we aren’t here to compete for the most people met in a lifetime, we’re here to make meaningful connections. As the name implies, connections are those people who come into our lives at just the right time with whom we naturally bond with. These are people who transcend the convenience of place and time and become lifetime associates. They are as invested in our well-being as we are in theirs. They are the precious few.

      What forms that bond? Usually something like shared experience, be it the good, bad or ugly. When you go through something with someone that few others would understand, sometimes you become lifetime friends. Then again, sometimes you drift apart never to speak again. Some of the people I rowed with felt like best friends until the diplomas came and I haven’t seen them since. One or the other of us had moved on, and so it goes. Same with old work connections, or fellow soccer parents, or whomever. Something in the moment brings us together, but once it’s gone the bond is gone too. It’s like the Post-It note of friendships: friends of convenience skating that indivisible point of now but not forever.

      And that’s okay too. We can’t very well have 80,000 best friends, or even close associates. We’d simply never have the time to maintain the connection and get anything else done. Most relationships are transactional, and it’s nothing personal, simply pragmatic. We may remember people fondly from our past lives and catch up with them at a reunion one day, or maybe not even that. The few that stick with us are there because they want to be, just as we want to be. Sometimes it’s as simple as that.

      Coming back to that indivisible point that Marcus Aurelius mentioned, we ought to put our full energy into the connections of now. We can’t very well say to ourselves that we’ve got our precious few and that’s enough for me. That next person we meet on the climb to 80,000+ might just be the one who makes all the difference in our lives, or we in theirs. When we make every encounter a moment of connection, we raise the average of our overall experience on this planet. We also find that our few become even more precious as the investment made by both parties naturally increases to meet the place we’ve arrived at in our lives. It always comes back to this: we get what we put into it.

    • Nice, With Nerve

      “It’s not enough to be nice in life. One must have nerve.” — Georgia O’Keeffe

      “I’ve been absolutely terrified every moment of my life and I’ve never let it keep me from a single thing that I wanted to do.” — Georgia O’Keeffe

      The old expression that nice guys finish last isn’t completely accurate, but it ought to include the disclaimer that for nice guys not to finish last they have to show some courage and go after what they want in life. We all see the assholes who ascend to positions of power. They wouldn’t have it any other way, really. Nice people don’t have to be assholes to do consequential things in their lifetime, but they must have courage to push through the walls the world wants to box us in with. We must learn to fight for what we want in our lives.

      We can be nice but still have nerve. Nice people rise too. They just don’t leave as many bruised egos in their wake. Remember this when encountering walls and ceilings placed by assholes, but also by other nice people who meant the best for us. It’s not enough to persist, we also must insist and, just do what calls to us.

      Consequential things don’t just manifest themselves. Those climbs to summits, manuscripts and realizations of dreams require action and the nerve to start. We mustn’t wait another moment! It’s not a departure from identity to be bold, for being nice with nerve is how great things happen in this world.

    • The Past Is Not the Past

      “One of the things the Irish say is that ‘The thing about the past is, it’s not the past.’ [laughs] It’s right here, in this room, in this conversation.” — David Whyte & The Conversational Nature of Reality, On Being with Krista Tippett

      We who experienced it will always remember September 11th for all it was and would be for each of us. For me, September 12th is another day to reflect on, as the day my favorite Navy pilot left this earth. At least that’s the story we tell ourselves, but we know he’s been whispering in our ear ever since then. He’s smiling that scheming smile even as I write this, making it impossible not to smile back at him. He didn’t leave our family for us to mope around forever, but to do something with the life we still have pulsing through our veins. Just make it memorable, I hear him say.

      For those of us who pay attention, the past is not the past. It lives within us, sometimes recessed and awaiting its moment to leap back onto center stage, sometimes stumbled upon as we leaf through old photographs and letters, and sometimes seen in a sideways glance that reminds you of the sideways glance someone else in your past once gave you, demonstrating that they’ve been here all along waiting for that moment to shine a light back to the living. Life energy bounces around in this universe, and sometimes those ricochets hit us squarely when we least expect it.

      To sink into reflection is not to grieve again, not after time smooths the rough edges, it’s to savor the finish, like a fine wine that has aged well. We open the memories like we open up a great bottle of wine, and let it breath awhile before pouring a glass. If we know wine we know to savor the sip, but to appreciate the aftertaste, or finish. The wine has been consumed, but the finish remains. Life is similar, isn’t it? Those who come into our lives become a part of us, and speak through us and others they’ve touched. We hear the echoes of the past all around us, leaving us but still very much here. Alive within us and through us, always.