Alexandersmap

    Category: Relationships

    • The Given

      “I inherit from the past of my family, my city, my tribe, my nation, a variety of debts, inheritance, rightful expectations, and obligations. These constitute the given of my life, my moral starting point.” — Athenian oath

      If the way we live our lives is based on the routines and beliefs we establish for ourselves over time, the foundation for those routines and beliefs is that which we’ve been given by the circle of people who have surrounded us from our beginning. The desire to break free from that circle begins in our teenage years, but there’s no getting around the momentum of the given. Our very identity is formed by those we’ve been surrounded by. Is it any wonder that some people move away, that they may be someone else?

      When we think about the people who have influenced us most, we begin to understand ourselves more. Our positive and negative voice that quietly whisper to us as a running dialogue, waiting to rise to the surface to make an appearance in our best and worst moments? Given. Our fallback position on everything from religion to politics to underlying feelings about people who are “different from us”? Given. Our lives begin with momentum. But that which is given is merely our foundation. We are the architect for who we become beyond our base.

      “You are the average of the five people you spend the most time with.” ― Jim Rohn

      That circle changes over our lifetime. The gravitational pull of our belief system from when we were a child changes as the circle influencing us changes. When we go off to college or move to a faraway place, we are breaking free of that which once influenced us and placing ourselves in a new, developing circle. Most of us have the personal freedom to choose who we want to be. It begins with who we surround ourselves with, and how we spend our days. Habits and routines are as essential to our becoming as who we started out as in the beginning.

      Lately I’ve been in many conversations about what we’ve been given. Our emotional, intellectual, physical and financial foundation established momentum for each of us. It’s up to us to keep that momentum going from there, but there’s no doubting the impact of the forces that brought us here. It’s easier to become what’s next with a running start than it is from a static position. Reflecting on our own momentum might enhance our empathy for those who start without any. When we think about it, we are all part of the same tribe, aren’t we?

      “We make a living by what we get, but we make a life by what we give.” — Winston Churchill

      We are all part of someone else’s circle. Isn’t it just as fair to ask ourselves what are we giving, perhaps even more than what are we getting? That Athenian oath doesn’t just speak of rightful expectations, but of obligations too. Living a meaningful life demands that we use that positive momentum to pull others up as well, that our circle grows larger. Great societies and cultures are built on such things as this. This is true excellence, for it lives beyond us.

    • The Gift of a Lifetime

      “Just living is not enough,” said the butterfly, “one must have sunshine, freedom, and a little flower.” ― Hans Christian Anderson

      Spring for me begins when the crocuses bloom. Well, they’ve bloomed and continue to dance in the crisp air even as the season tries to figure out who it wants to be. As usually happens in March, we had a taste of spring weather in New England before things got chilly again. This is normal, though winter was anything but normal. The climate has changed, we all feel it, and perhaps we’ll act upon it one day too late.

      I was texting with a business associate yesterday, responding to his complaints about product and service and the miserable state of affairs that is the world we live in. I politely steered him to the bright side of the road, which he found unsatisfying. There is no room for joie de vivre in his life. He’s been this way since his son passed away years ago, leaving him forever hollowed out. Who am I to tell him there’s a bright side to anything? All we can do is show that life may still be beautiful even with shadows.

      The question of a lifetime is always what to do with it. We may roam like a caribou, straying far from home through places fraught with danger. We may root ourselves firmly in place, like a mighty oak that keeps the young saplings from getting ahead of themselves in their rush to find their own light. Life is never perfect and sometimes it’s downright unfair, but we yet exist for more than to be a placeholder for carbon.

      The art of living well is to savor our experiences while we’re dancing with them. Tomorrow may bring a cold front to our doorstep, but today the sun is shining and we would be ungrateful to let it slip away uncelebrated. Each moment has it’s time, and so to do we. To elevate our experiences with our awareness is the ultimate gift we may give to ourselves. It’s the gift of a lifetime, isn’t it?

    • On the Tail End

      I was thinking about my adult children through the lens of Tim Urban’s famous blog post, The Tail End. It reminded me that I’m on the flip side of his statement about his parents. Now I’m the parent with kids that live away from home. In many ways I’m on the tail end of my relationship with them (having already spent 90% of the time I’ll have with them in our lifetimes together). Nothing focuses the mind on the most important things in life than realizing you’re in the waning moments of any one of those important things. Sure, we may have another 40 years or more together, or we may have run our course already, we’re never really sure are we? So embrace it, and them, when you’re together.

      That got me thinking about some close friends. A couple of them will be sailing away again later this year for an extended adventure to faraway places. Sure, we’ll visit them in a few of those places, but it’s not like we’ll be seeing them every weekend then. Another couple of friends hike every weekend and invite me to tag along, which I rarely do nowadays. This has led to an absence similar to if they’d sailed away like those other friends. Life calls us where it will and perhaps we’ll see them again one day, but that tail end seems apparent.

      When you build a career in one industry, you build a network of people whom you come to rely on to always have your back, to always be present. Change industries and see how quickly those relationships disappear. It’s a lot like college or growing up in a certain neighborhood. Most relationships are built on convenience. Few survive the removal of that convenience of proximity when it’s gone. Sure, there may be a Christmas card every year, or a social media “like” as we keep track each other, but are these the same?

      The point of all this, as Urban himself suggested, is to be fully present in those moments together, for we never really know how many we’ll have. To be aware is the greatest gift we can give to those we care about, whether we’re at the start of something beautiful or in the waning moments of our time together. Put the phone down. Listen and speak with the perspective of having heard. Be here, now. For it’s all we really have together.

    • Filling in Holes

      “The man who goes alone can start today; but he who travels with another must wait until that other is ready, and it may be a long time before they get off.” ― Henry David Thoreau

      They say a tired dog doesn’t dig, but I have a dog that never tires. This mild, wet winter has given her ample opportunity to perfect her digging technique. And so the next few days I’ll be spreading enough stone to pay for a trip to Paris. Mulching the beds with stone is meant to act as a natural deterrent for a wonderful (really) dog who wants to dig holes everywhere. It’s a way of telling her, “not here”. With time and some training, eventually she’ll grow out of these teenage years.

      We know when something has shifted within ourselves and it’s time for change. Do we leap at that moment, or live a life of quiet desperation? Thoreau famously suggested most of us do the latter. It’s famous because it resonated with the masses, who fail to act on the wisdom in the observation. We must have the agency to go. To do that we must have the courage to let go of the things that hold us in place.

      Easier said than done. That puppy who has brought so much joy into our lives is also an anchor to a lifestyle. Having the agency to go on a trip is one thing, but the more we layer into our lives the harder it is to simply walk away. Great lifestyle design means layering in the things we want most in our lives and eliminating the things that aren’t as important. The dog stays, and so the trip to Paris may be pushed out yet another year. We can’t have it all, but we can have the things we focus on the most.

      Don’t get me wrong—there will be plenty of travel to come this year, and with it arrangements for dog sitting and lawn mowing and all the things that come with balancing priorities. There’s a price tag for all of this, in time and money and the discipline to see it through. The payoff is a life far richer than it might have been otherwise. Filling in holes was the entire reason we got the dog in the first place.

    • Being Helpful

      “We are all here on earth to help others; what on earth the others are here for, I don’t know’” — John Foster Hall

      There are people in this world less inclined to help others. We tend to identify them rather quickly by their presence in our lives. Presence is a blessing or a curse, depending on the willingness of the helper to let the helped learn to fly on their own. We’ve all seen helicopter parents who stunt the development of a child in their eagerness to help make everything perfect in the lives of their children. We’ve all had micromanagers as bosses, who won’t let a single detail slip in their quest to control the situation. Presence isn’t always welcome, but in the right dosage it becomes the gift of a lifetime.

      Most of us want to be helpful in some capacity. What’s really helpful is awareness. When we are truly aware of the world around us, we form situational awareness. Situational awareness is seeing the big picture and the critical details all at once. First responders must develop acute situational awareness to truly understand what they’re charging into. Teachers must develop situational awareness to truly understand the struggles their students are having, that they may address the hurdles that impede a student from rising to meet the lesson.

      Helpfulness is a skill developed through living. When we learn how to cook or clean up and bandage a cut we’re developing helpful skills. When we learn to listen to understand we develop the skill of getting the the root of the problem, that it may be addressed head-on. We find purpose in our lives when we discover where we may be most helpful in this world.

      The best teams, and the best partnerships, are made up of people who bring different skills to the table. Great teams, partnerships and marriages last because each party is present and aware of the needs of others, and steps in to fill gaps each individual is best equipped to fill. Whole societies are built on the shoulders of people willing to set aside their differences and work to a common good. When we choose to be helpful the world is a far better place.

      Knowing that helpfulness is a skill, and knowing that the world is full of people in need of help, we may find a path to purpose. There’s no doubt the world needs more people willing to roll up their sleeves to lend a hand. Being helpful is the glue that holds this whole thing together. There’s joy in helping others. Why else would we be here anyway?

    • Shared Experience

      Calling California or new to New York
      It don’t matter where you wanna roam
      It don’t matter high or low or the clothes you wanna wear
      We’re making good time with your hand fitting into mine
      Every mile you’re where my story goes
      It don’t matter fast or slow we’re gettin’ there
      — Graham Colton, Gettin’ There

      It’s still very much winter in New England (snow is flying even as I write this), but spring fever is beginning to creep up within me. The desire to get out in the world and meet it is always present, balanced by an underlying sense of place appreciating right where I am already. Life is full of choices, and with choice comes opportunity cost. We can’t do it all, but we can build a life that allows us to optimize some experiences we value more than others.

      I write this knowing I’m traveling a lot in the coming months. Travel doesn’t feel real until you’re doing it, and the paradox of travel is it doesn’t always feel real when you’re actually doing it either. That is unless you travel frequently and become conditioned to living out of a bag. Having lived both sides of this lifestyle, I know the opportunity cost of both.

      The best travel is done with people you want to share experiences with. In the end, our experiences together are the most rewarding. When we think about our favorite memories, most of them involve being around others. My solo hikes and visits to incredible places around the world were wonderful, but would have been that much better as a shared experience. If I ever seem to be in a hurry to get to any next phase of my life, it’s mostly so that I might share more experiences with the people who mean the most to me.

      We can’t rush through life. Experience means nothing if we aren’t immersed in it. Yes, there is a cost, but also an underlying opportunity in being “here, now” that we can’t miss out on. The trick is to be aware and present for all of it, even as we structure our lives to maximize that time together. We’re writing a story of a lifetime, after all, and every great story is better shared with others.

    • To Live For

      “The mark of the immature man is that he wants to die nobly for a cause, while the mark of the mature man is that he wants to live humbly for one.” ― J.D. Salinger, The Catcher in the Rye

      You may have heard this before here, but time flies (tempus fugit). The more we put behind us, the more we might see just how essential purpose is to our identity. We produce what we might in our lifetimes, we nurture a character that grows through the seasons, systems, habits and trends we put it through, and always, we are that average of the people we associate with the most. To live for others is to carry ourselves in such a way that we make a ripple that rolls outward beyond us.

      A friend was recently trying to lure me to another company with tales of a great culture, fancy resume-friendly titles and high earnings potential. A different version of me would have jumped at the chance to make a big splash. Imagine the splash on LinkedIn when I posted that change? But this version of me sees the folly in that plunge. I’ll take the quiet ripple, thank you. To be present and engaged in this place and time with those who mean the most is everything.

      Purpose seems such a lofty word for the average person. We conjure up heroic images—characters who transcend the routine and lead to us to salvation. The idea of a purpose can be a trap disguised as a compass heading. The trap is in forever looking elsewhere for true north, when it’s usually whispering in our ear all along.

      What’s it all about, Alfie?
      Is it just for the moment we live?
      — Burt Bacharach, Alfie

      The right it transforms us. The wrong it has us running around in circles. Life is short and yes, time flies. We have no time to waste chasing the wrong cause when the essential is right there waiting for us.

      We spend far too much time trying to find a higher purpose and not nearly enough embracing the essential truth we encounter along the way. It’s all about being there for those who mean the most to us in our time. As infuriating as it might feel for those who haven’t yet found it, trust in the process: we know what to live for when we find it. When we give of ourselves to the right people that love is reflected back to us.

    • A Matter of Who

      Times and places
      Are all in who you share ’em with
      And it’s life, and the point is
      Enjoyin’ who you share it with
      Joy is who you share it with
      — Layup, Who You Share It With

      A friend texted a few loosely-aligned friends to ask if any of us would be interested in going to a Donald Trump appearance at a country club nearby. It’s known within this circle of friends that I’m the least likely to participate in something like this of the lot of us, but as a history buff there was still a small part of me that would consider it, just to see this character who has done so much to turn the world upside down. In the end I opted out for many more reasons than why I’d ever opt in. My vote cancelling out my friend’s a given, the friendship will survive the difference of opinion on who should be thought of as a leader, simply because we choose for it to survive.

      Whether we find happiness and purpose in any given place and time is often a matter of who we spend our time with. The people on the bus as we ride through life—our circle of friends, the people we work or go to school with, teammates—all determine just how much we enjoy the ride. We ought to get off the bus if it’s not particularly joyful to be on it, and find another one that brings us to the place we’d like to be.

      Thinking back on my friend, I remembered that some of the most joyful times I’ve had in the last twenty years were with him and some of the other characters on that text message. Doesn’t that count for something more than who we might vote for in an election? There are always matters of scarcity and abundance, ebb and flow, in our lives. The tragedy is when scarcity is a mindset, and we forget the abundance of reasons why we were drawn together in the first place.

      There’s a gap that develops with some friendships as we grow and experience different things in life. Without proximity and purpose, we drift away from most people at some level. Sometimes we drift back again, and sometimes we don’t. Things like politics and pandemics challenge friendships and we find that sometimes the relationship doesn’t pass the test. But sometimes we decide that the common ground offers far more joy than the gaps subtract.

    • Some Years

      Forever alive, forever forward,
      Stately, solemn, sad, withdrawn, baffled, mad, turbulent, feeble, dissatisfied,
      Desperate, proud, fond, sick, accepted by men, rejected by men,
      They go! they go! I know that they go, but I know not where they go,
      But I know that they go toward the best—toward something great.
      — Walt Whitman, Song of the Open Road

      Some years feel monumental for the changes that wash over us. Some years feel like nothing happened worth writing home about. For the former, lessons in living life anew. For the latter, a tap on the shoulder that maybe now is the time to shake things up a bit and step outside of the familiar. We only have so many some years to work with.

      Heading into a new year, what are we to make of it? It can’t be more of the same for us, for everything changes all the time. Even what feels familiar and constant is changing, just at a slower rate than the world around that thing. I look around at the house I’ve lived in for what feels like forever and everything but the framing and windows has changed over and over again. Change is indeed a constant, reliable dynamic that we either must surf or be swept away by. We’ve all shown ourselves to be able surfers thus far.

      What makes a life great? Isn’t it the experiences we have with the people we surround ourselves with? Everything in life is an interaction between the inner self and the universe that surrounds us. To have lived well in this shell of a body is to have engaged actively with the world and to draw something from it, that we may grow for as long as we can.

      All years come and go. We advance with the years, forever alive, forever forward. Some years stand out as more memorable than others. Like a puzzle, the full picture doesn’t emerge until we put in the time. As the picture of the year that was is completed, we realize that there’s a larger puzzle still in the works. All our days make a picture—the sum of our lives. We must keep advancing towards something great, even if we can’t quite see it in ourselves. We must decide what to be and go be it.

    • This Gift

      “Oh! captive, bound, and double-ironed,” cried the phantom, “not to know that ages of incessant labour, by immortal creatures, for this earth must pass into eternity before the good of which it is susceptible is all developed! Not to know that any Christian spirit working kindly in its little sphere, whatever it may be, will find its mortal life too short for its vast means of usefulness! Not to know that no space of regret can make amends for one life’s opportunities misused! Yet such was I! Oh, such was I!”― Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol

      It seems appropriate to quote Dickens on Christmas day. The theme isn’t new for this blog, but another reminder to use our time well is always appropriate in a world that tries so very hard to distract us from the hourglass. We ought to remember that no space of regret can make amends for one life’s opportunities misused, and more, act upon that knowledge with urgency. It matters not whether it’s Christmas or the 25th of July, mortal life is barreling right along. We must make the most of life’s opportunities in our time.

      Each day is a gift. May this one bring each of us an abundance of joy, peace and love in close proximity to the most important people in our life. Thank you for following along.