Alexandersmap

    Category: Relationships

    • The Gods Wait

      your life is your life
      don’t let it be clubbed into dank submission.
      be on the watch.
      there are ways out.
      there is a light somewhere.
      it may not be much light but
      it beats the darkness.
      be on the watch.
      the gods will offer you chances.
      know them.
      take them.
      you can’t beat death but
      you can beat death in life, sometimes.
      and the more often you learn to do it,
      the more light there will be.
      your life is your life.
      know it while you have it.
      you are marvelous
      the gods wait to delight
      in you.
      — Charles Bukowski, The Laughing Heart

      I revisited some old characters this week. Some were people I hadn’t seen in some time, met with lunch in between us and life’s hurdles to compare. Some were characters invented in my head and tapped into flesh on the keyboard. Like the people I had lunch with, I haven’t visited with them in some time and there’s a chance I might not see them again anytime soon. We live the life we invest ourselves into. The gods wait to delight in you.

      I’ve become my father in some ways. I don’t check in with the kids as much, but I’m there for them when they wish to reconnect. I recognize the folly in this through the distance between my father and me before he finally slipped into dementia. Where is the light in our lives but in our children and the person we share our days with? I stay connected in small ways, to let them know I’m thinking of them. My bride has entire text conversations with them that I only hear about as an executive summary. We spend 90% of our time with our children before they leave the house. We must hold on to that remaining 10% for dear life.

      We dance with light in our days or we are wrestled into darkness. We must choose light, and be a source of it for the people in our lives who need it the most. Connection is so hard to maintain when we all have so much to do in our brief time, but it’s the essence of a joyful and meaningful life. When these days are well behind us and all we have are fragile memories of our time together, will we smile at the recollection of the light between us or see the gap? The gods will offer us chances.

    • Solitude and Service

      “He who delights in solitude is either a wild beast or a god.” — Friedrich Nietzsche

      I recently spent some time on an island, and fancied what it might be like to live there. A boat could bring me back to civilization as needed for provisions and conversation. The rest of the time? Blessed solitude. Libraries of books being read and re-read. Volumes of prose written. Time to meditate on the meaning of life. Processing elbow room for the mind and soul. Wonderful, sacred solitude.

      It’s nice to ponder, but I suspect I wouldn’t be truly fulfilled in a life of solitude. I feel another gravitational force pulling me in the other direction. My attention always comes back to a familiar world of contribution to and appreciation for the circle of people who make up my identity beyond the self. For most of us, service to others is our primary purpose.

      Blame it on growing up in a big family or participating in a team sport instead of individual pursuits, but I just seem to be built for social interaction. That doesn’t make my time in solitude any less valuable, but does make it obvious that it’s a now and then thing not an all the time existence. But is it enough?

      The most interesting islands are full of connection to others. Fellow inhabitants, bridges and ferries to connect you to the mainland, Internet and cellular telephone service. Each brings connection for those times when solitude is just too much. We don’t have to live on an island to find solitude any more than we need to be off the island to find connection.

      As with everything, life is about balance. Balance is something we feel, and perhaps the best thing we can do for ourselves is to build a life where we feel our balance between solitude and service are mostly in blessed equilibrium. Surely it’s something to aspire to in our creative, engaged and productive lives. Wherever we may find it.

      Solitude

    • Life’s Good Runs

      “Life is like skiing. Just like skiing, the goal is not to get to the bottom of the hill. It’s to have a bunch of good runs before the sun sets.” — Seth Godin

      We each go through distinct seasons in our lives, not just age-based but in what we are focused on. We look back on them fondly or maybe not so fondly, but we can see exactly who we were at the time and know it brought us to who we are today. School days, sports played, people encountered and cherished for awhile, books read and discussed, career rungs climbed, places visited that seep into our souls—these are all good runs that we remember for the rest of our days. A lifetime may itself be a good run, made up of a series of other runs played by the distinct characters we were at the time.

      I still identify as a rower even though my rowing days on water are far in my past. Millions of meters on a machine in my basement aren’t quite the same, but the feeling of the catch made perfectly resonates across time and place. How many great catches did I have? Who’s to say but we know one when we feel it. Either way, that stroke ends and we recover for the next. Like skiing and life phases the goal is to put together as many good ones as you can in the time allotted.

      At the moment, I’m on quite a run of blog posts, but just last week I was wondering if this particular run was over for me. Not quite yet, but we’ll see how life unfolds. We each have good days and bad days, and with each morning a chance to begin anew. There’s a certain thrill in publishing something just when I thought I’d had enough to say and found some new plot twist to unpack.

      We recognize when we’re in the midst of a good run, just as we feel when a good run is ending. We’ll look with trepidation at the next run wondering whether we’ll enjoy that part of the ride, knowing that there are some things we most definitely won’t enjoy at all. We can’t rush through the bad parts to get to the good parts to come any more than we can hold on to the good parts forever. Life unfolds and we adapt to it and grow. What comes next is important too, but let’s not forget the thrill of the run we’re currently on.

    • Green Grass and Long Conversation

      There’s an old response to the expression “the grass is greener on the other side” that points out that “the grass is greener where you water it.” Being a collector of quotes and poetry, the expression seems to pop in my feed now and then. Today was one of those days, and just before I started to write this blog post. Apparently the student was ready to see it again.

      I begin most summer mornings with a plunge into the pool and a cup of coffee in an Adirondack chair. I know this is a luxury of circumstance and celebrate it for the blessing it is. But I also know that a lot of watering went into this particular grass. To be born at the right time and place is a gift, to use that time and place in such a way that your life is incrementally better each year is a plan well-executed, with a nod to luck and fate for the blessing they’ve bestowed. But it’s simply my moment with these things, nothing more. We must remember that for all it represents.

      Yesterday I took a long walk with my bride and our pup through old neighborhoods she grew up in. The entire four miles was a walking conversation about what was, what is, and what will be. This year marks three decades of such conversations, and we’ve noted the changes in ourselves as much as the people and things around us. Life is change and a bit of selective watering, that we may enjoy our moment in the sun a little more before it’s time to concede it to the next. Memento mori and carpe diem, friends.

      Sitting in that chair, the air a bit cool, I watched the steam drift out of the mug and drift up into the morning sunbeam over my shoulder. The water vapors caught the sunbeam just right and sparkled like fireworks before drifting away to infinity. The days are already getting shorter even as the peak of summer is ahead of us. We may know the fragility of the moment and still look ahead with anticipation. A beautiful life is built on the things that are most fragile, like time and seasons and the people who grace us with this dance.

    • What Emerges

      “To love someone long-term is to attend a thousand funerals of the people they used to be. The people they’re too exhausted to be any longer. The people they don’t recognise inside themselves anymore. The people they grew out of, the people they never ended up growing into. We so badly want the people we love to get their spark back when it burns out; to become speedily found when they are lost.
      But it is not our job to hold anyone accountable to the people they used to be. It is our job to travel with them between each version and to honour what emerges along the way. Sometimes it will be an even more luminescent flame. Sometimes it will be a flicker that disappears and temporarily floods the room with a perfect and necessary darkness.” ― Heidi Priebe

      I’ve been thinking about relationships lately. I’m in a 30-year relationship myself, which is a jumble of highs and lows and left turns made right, but generally going about as good as one could hope for when we envision a lifetime coexisting with any one person. The part they don’t tell you is that it isn’t one person at all, but a person who is changing all the time, just as we are. The trick to a long term relationship is waiting out the parts of each other that aren’t delighting us in anticipation of the person we see them becoming. Hopefully they’re doing that with us.

      The thing is, that couple who were so enthralled with each other once upon a time is still around, just weighed down by all the things that life throws at us along the way. We like to think that we’ll always be at the same place in life, but we learn quickly that each of us goes at our own pace. Sometimes we’re ahead, sometimes behind, but always committed for the long haul. Perhaps our wedding song showed us the way, all those years ago:

      Now everyone dreams of a love lasting and true
      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
      If I should fall behind
      Wait for me
      — Bruce Springsteen, If I Should Fall Behind

      We all need to live a little before we’re really prepared for something as impactful as finding our partner for life, because life will surely wash over both people over and over again. We meet a few people along the way who may feel like the right one, only to develop into absolutely not the right one. I find myself grateful for having gotten it right, when we see so many that go wrong. What emerges from a rich life is the perspective to see that life partners are human, with all the complexity that comes with it. To find the right one, and then to grow together is to live a profoundly more meaningful life.

    • Let Me Not Defer

      “I shall pass this way but once; any good that I can do or any kindness I can show to any human being; let me do it now. Let me not defer nor neglect it, for I shall not pass this way again.”
      — Etienne de Grellet

      Yesterday I had a conversation with a neighbor I don’t speak with all that much but have known for 25 years. Beyond the casual how are the kids? small talk, we dove more deeply into what’s next for each of us. We’ve both learned the high cost of deferring dreams the last few years—his wife passed a year ago, my family has suffered losses of similar magnitude the last few years. The question is whether we act on the lessons of memento mori or keep on doing the same thing as if it weren’t true.

      Beyond the moment, what have we got? Legacy? I look at old pictures and forget who most of the people in them are. The ones who I remember most are those who were most invested in me. The rest fade away. To be memorable, I suppose, the lesson is to invest in others, isn’t it? Here and now, with all the sincerity and earnestness we can muster, that we may impact their lives in some small, positive way.

      I worry less now about memorable. I’m at a point where living a good life is enough. I don’t feel a need to be remembered as anything but a source of light in a world that is often unrelentingly dark. To add more value to the world, we must learn and grow and be ever more generous with our time with others. It’s no surprise that those who are surrounded by loving people are usually the ones who offered nothing but love to the world. We ought to stop focusing on how we aspire to be remembered and think instead about who we aspire to be right now.

      Each of us is spending currency. Let it not be frivolous, but meaningful. Whatever the future brings for us, we’ll surely find the investment in others will offer our highest return. When well-invested, isn’t love returned exponentially?

    • Emergency Room Poetry

      “I don’t know if I will ever write another poem. I don’t know if I am going to live for a long time yet, or even for a while.
      But I am going to spend my life wisely. I’m going to be happy, and frivolous, and useful….
      To rise like a slow and beautiful poem. To live a long time.”
      — Mary Oliver, Fletcher Oak

      Hours waiting quietly in an emergency room, alongside the patient dozing on a bed nearby, her husband dozing in a chair next to me, and a constant stream of activity feet away as the frailty of humans is displayed in one example after another. But not just frailty—resiliency is also on display. So many people fighting for better health and another day. We have only to see the staff in an emergency room in action to know that the best of humanity lingers among us.

      It’s unspoken, but acknowledged. You assess the people around you and the suffering they’re dealing with in this particular moment in our collective history. They do the same with you. What brought us all here? Most often not how we expected this day to go. Yet here we are. Amor fati.

      The waiting rooms in hospitals usually have televisions broadcasting something uncontroversial, like cooking shows. There’s already enough tension in such places without pouring gas on the fire. But inside the locked door where treatment happens (or where you await it) there are no such distractions as cooking shows. It’s here that people learn to listen to themselves again, or glance at others, or most often, text and scroll with the outside world, far from this place.

      I chose Mary Oliver. Poetry in the quiet moments awaiting answers, awaiting treatment for those I support, those who have supported me on my own down days. Here I sat in awe of doctors and nurses doing what is routine for them. Asking questions and texting updates when there were any, feeding crackers to the patient and joking about sneaking gin and tonics in. Whatever it took to make the moment better. To be useful in a challenging moment is all we can ask of ourselves.

    • Insert the Grateful

      Gratitude
      Sometimes all you need is
      Gratitude
      Just try and hold on to
      The city lights
      Sunrise, long drives
      Late nights, shady groves
      The love we know
      Isn’t that what matters most?
      These things aren’t a given
      They’re the heartbeats of time
      A songbird in the wind
      The wind in the pines
      — Drew Holcomb & The Neighbors, Gratitude

      We humans are particularly good at focusing on what we don’t have, often at the expense of the abundance we have all around us. The beautiful thing about living fully aware in the moment is that you notice those things that might have been missed in rushing off to the next. We ought to know better, but looking ahead anticipating something better is part of our identity.

      I’m not particularly good at doing those gratitude journals. Usually at the end of the day I’m just trying to insert one last positive habit that moves me forward like Duolingo, flossing or reading before I doze off. Maybe the answer isn’t to assess what we’re grateful for at the end of the day, but to insert the gratitude into small moments as they unfold around us. It helps to remind ourselves to stick around awhile in this moment. After all, savoring is only done in the present. And here it is!

      Look around at all that is beautiful in our lives, not just the things we’re antagonized by. It’s only a beat longer to pause and acknowledge to ourselves that this particular moment of beauty and light is a blessing before we move on. Here lies happiness.

    • Momentum in the Moments

      “We should tell ourselves, once and for all, that it is the first duty of the soul to become as happy, complete, independent, and great as lies in its power. Herein is no egoism, or pride. To become effectually generous and sincerely humble there must be within us a confident, tranquil, and clear comprehension of all that we owe to ourselves.” ― Maurice Maeterlinck, Wisdom and Destiny

      We must first reach for our own potential, that we might fully lend it to others. Put another way, we must become increasingly necessary to those around us through the value we bring. Value is our accumulated skills, knowledge and presence applied to contribution. To make a greater contribution, we must build up our value.

      When I look at my career, the times when I’ve been happiest are when I’ve been able to contribute something substantial to the overall cause. The times when I’ve been most miserable in my work are almost always when I feel like I’m not contributing my full value and I’ve lost my way. The thing is, these feelings come well after the work that it took to arrive there, for momentum is built in the moments leading to it.

      This is most obvious in how we feel about our fitness level. If we’re feeling fit, it’s generally because of all the work that led us to physical fitness. Working out can be tedious when we view it as something we have to do. When it becomes part of our identity it’s simply part of our days. And this applies to everything else we do in life: reading and learning, writing and artistic expression, connection to the people in our lives, and our continual development in the self.

      Excellence is a habit. But so is laziness, sloth and a bankrupt soul. Both ends of the spectrum are paths built on the moments that precede our arrival there. We must choose how we spend our days accordingly and build momentum in the right things. So it is that nothing is more important in a brief life than our self development, that we may be more valuable to ourselves and others in the moments to come.

    • Significance

      “What counts in life is not the mere fact that we have lived. It is what difference we have made to the lives of others that will determine the significance of the life we lead.” — Nelson Mandela

      The unsaid part of that quote is that we may make a positive difference in the lives of others or a negative one, both may of course be significant. There are plenty of people who choose the latter path, we may balance that with our positive contribution. Add enough positive and we may break the chain of bad behavior someday. Maybe not in our own lifetime, but hey, we can’t stop now. There’s no rest now in our quest to make a positive difference.

      When we think about the things that are significant for us, the things that anchor us to this time and place, what stands out? Isn’t it the trusted relationships formed? Family and teams and kindred spirits create a common bond and fuel purpose. We rise to meet the needs of the tribe, because the tribe has been there when we needed them.

      When I question why I’m writing a blog, it usually comes down to questions of significance, not what I’m personally getting out of the act. Same for the job I’m in. Does the work matter or is it a means to an end? To matter—to be significant, we must contribute something. What’s it all about Alfie? When you walk let your heart lead the way.

      A word like significance can be overwhelming. We think of someone like a Nelson Mandela making positive change at a global level and believe, “That’s not me”. I bet he had his own moments of doubt along the way during those decades in a prison cell. The answer is to focus on the most immediate—the person right in front of us, or the person reading this blog who has invested some of their own precious time to hear what we have to say (thank you). Together we may create exponential positive change, but it has to start somewhere. Why not with us?