Alexandersmap

    Category: Stoicism

    • That Fire Was

      “Ashes denote that fire was;
      Respect the grayest pile
      For the departed creature’s sake
      That hovered there awhile.
      Fire exists the first in light,
      And then consolidates, —
      Only the chemist can disclose
      Into what carbonates.” – Emily Dickinson, Fire

      I once climbed into a cave deep in the Grand Canyon and observed the soot accumulated on the ceiling from fires generations years ago. I’ve had similar observations in fireplaces in the castles of Scotland and the old forts of North America. And I’ve come across old fire pits deep in the woods. And I’ve often wondered, who gathered around this fire? What was their story?

      With Autumn we start gathering around fires more often, warmed by the glowing embers and infused with smoky thoughts. Inevitably I think back on other fires I’ve gathered around, sometimes with the same cast of characters, sometimes with their echoes, and wonder where the time goes. The burning coals I stir become the ashes I scatter when they cool, like memories cooled with time. And I wonder, who will come across my own fire’s ashes?

      And now, what coals are you stirring?

    • For this Moment

      I’m a bit lost this morning with the writing. Most days it comes naturally. Not so much today. This morning I found a lovely poem that I thought might be a great starting point but, upon reflection, reserved it for a eulogy I’m writing. Unless I scrap it for another passage I’m contemplating. But either way I just can’t use it for myself at this moment.

      And so there’s my dilemma. Write what I’m thinking at the moment for a blog post, for the eulogy, or perhaps even the novel I’m slowly chipping away at that doesn’t seem so important today. And so I simply write and let the words come as they may. There will be other times for observation of the world at large. For the moment the writing turns inward. And there’s that word again: Moment. Here we are.

      Living for the moment seems a bit selfish, really. It’s the grasshopper not preparing for winter the way the ants do. But living in this moment, well, that’s a bit different, isn’t it? Living in this moment is being present. And so I’m embracing the moment at hand, filled with wonder yet sadness, possibility with reflection. There are things to do at the moment, while honoring the things you can no longer do, or perhaps never could. In the moment distracts. This moment clarifies.

      So get on with it already.

    • The Path of Further Understanding

      “If you think it is ever warranted to stop on the path of further understanding, you are very far from the truth. The life which we received was given to us not that we might just admire it, but that we should ever look for new truth hidden from us.” – Leo Tolstoy, quoting John Milton

      I thought I was pretty clever stacking up my list of quotes and observations about the ocean, at the ready for a sailing trip northward in the Gulf of Maine. But plans change, as I wrote yesterday. And sailing will have to wait for another year and another boat. Other forces are at play now. So today I return to introspection on my own path to understanding. This year is full of moments of clarity, but also searing injustices that are difficult to understand. We do what we can to discover the truth hidden from us.

      “Well the heart that hurts
      Is a heart that beats
      Can you hear the drummer slowing
      One step closer to knowing…”
      – U2, One Step Closer

      U2 writes big arena songs that lift people up out of their seats in unison. And I love rising out of my seat with the rest of the arena. But for me, their songs of quiet reflection often left off the set list stick with me long after the adrenaline of the big songs wears off. One Step Closer is one of those songs, and I found the lyrics running through my head when I woke up this morning. Losing a loved one shakes distractions away abruptly, even when expected. And serve as reminders that we’re all one step closer to knowing stir such remembered words from the cobwebs of the mind. The truth is always waiting for us to find it.

      Is there a bigger cliche than “We’re all on this journey together”? I’m guilty of using it several times in this blog. And yet it rings true. Those who came before us offer the accumulated wisdom of their lifetimes to light the path. Our own accumulated wisdom adds familiarity and confidence that we might know the way. But none of us know where the path leads us beyond the next step. We can only walk the path as countless souls have before us and be fully present on the way. It helps to remember that we don’t walk it alone.

    • A Change of Plans

      “Death is one prophecy that never fails. Every person is born with a death sentence. Each second that passes by is one you’ll never get back.“ – Edmund Wilson

      We all have other plans. Each day is expected to be roughly what we thought it might be when we went to bed the night before. But God, the gods or the universe (depending on your belief) tends to laugh at such silly things as plans. And so it was that today my own plans were set aside for the immediacy of a life well-lived ending sooner than any of us would want.

      Last week my step-father told me privately that he would die soon. It turned out to be prescient as he passed away this morning. We talked then about this blog, and he challenged me on why I wrote so much about death. I told him I don’t write of death because I’m in any hurry to arrive there, but because it’s a stoic reminder that we all face it someday. And so it reminds me that we should truly live today. Embrace life, embrace your loved ones, and fully relish this brief time we have together. He accepted that answer, and I believe he did because he did fully embrace life and those who were lucky enough to be part of his life.

      Today the world is hollower than it was yesterday. Its up to those of us who have survived him to fill that hollowness as he did over and over in his own life. I believe we do so by rising to the occasion. Our lives, fully realized, serve not just ourselves but those we touch along the way. By rising closer towards our potential we have more to offer the world. And the world could use the help. I suppose that’s all we can do in the end.

    • Prominence

      “Make sure you’re not made ‘Emperor,’ avoid that imperial stain. It can happen to you, so keep yourself simple, good, pure, saintly, plain, a friend of justice, god-fearing, gracious, affectionate, and strong for your proper work. Fight to remain the person that philosophy wished to make you. Revere the gods, and look after each other. Life is short—the fruit of this life is a good character and acts for the common good.” – Marcus Aurelius, Meditations

      Lately I’ve been contemplating prominence. It started with Little Haystack Mountain, an impressive 4760 foot summit, relegated to the role of supporting actor due to its prominence of only 79 feet from nearby Mount Lincoln (5089/180). Or consider poor North Carter Mountain, 4531 feet tall but an almost embarrassing 59 feet of prominence from its cousin Middle Carter Mountain, which by comparison is 4610 feet with a prominence of 720 feet. North Carter didn’t even have a cairn or USGS marker designating its summit. I walked right by it until called back by a savvier hiking friend with a GPS tracker.

      If all this seems like a lot of numbers, well, I’m with you. To me a summit – no matter how prominent it may be – is a worthy accomplishment and very much worth celebration. With both Little Haystack and North Carter I lingered with friends to savor the moment before considering the next destination. Prominent or not, both summits took a fair amount of energy to reach and deserved their moment of appreciation. My mind danced as joyfully on Little Haystack as it did on Lincoln. Perhaps more so because in reaching it the world opens up around you. Why negate the accomplishment because of prominence?

      We live in a world where prominence is everything. How many followers do you have? How many likes did you get on your last post? What school did you attend? What was your class rank? How quickly did you reach a C-level position? Who did you marry? Where do you live? What kind of car do you drive? Where do you go on holiday? It seems that no matter how high your personal summit, it doesn’t matter unless you’ve achieved some measure of prominence. Of course its mostly nonsense that churns away in our own brain, perhaps fueled by co-conspirators like a parent or spouse who wants the best for you, if only for bragging rights at the next cocktail party (remember those?). Your prominence is your identity to some others.

      But not all others. Some celebrate your personal summit and ignore your prominence. Those are the people you want in your life, not the posers who skip right past the lesser summits to check in where there’s status. The trick is knowing who to celebrate with, and who to ignore as you focus on your climb. I sometimes shake my head at people who leapfrogged over others to reach VP titles or collect Board of Director positions like some magnets of places they’ve been. Prominence is a game really, and the question is who do you want to play the game with? How much is enough? Who is a true friend and who is an acquaintance who pays lip service and then quickly moves on to the next summit?

      Our worst critics are often ourselves. All those questions above? How many do we ask ourselves as we compare our own prominence to that of others we know? If achievement is associated with height, comparison is associated with prominence. But comparison is a fools game that negates your achievements when stacked up next to others. Skate your lane and stop worrying about what others are achieving. Focus on what matters. Celebrate each day and each accomplishment, no matter how prominent it may be. And by all means keep climbing and stretching your limitations. Be supportive of others as they make their own climb. Give and receive support on this epic slog. Fight to remain the person that philosophy wished to make you.

    • Rooted

      “You lack a foot to travel?
      Then journey into yourself!”
      – Rumi, If A Tree Could Wander

      For all my talk of moving and travel, I found myself digging deeply into the rocky soil at home, rooting myself to the land with labor and that most valuable commodity of all; time. For this weekend was the allocated time to put a privacy fence up on the side of the yard that offered a view into the backyard for our neighbors, and a view of their garage for us. The fence answered a question in my mind: Is it time to move on from this place? Answer: Not just yet.

      So maybe it was while in this frame of mind that I should linger on this Rumi poem. A tree is deeply rooted to the place it sprouts from, living and dying in the same place. Its only option is to reach higher and wider to the sun. And to do so it must root probe deeper and wider into the earth for strength and sustenance. Those roots can grow as thick as the branches in the canopy above.

      The first post hole is the most important. It sets the tone for where the fence will be positioned, and like a tree, once its set it isn’t going anywhere easily. I chose the most logical position of all for a privacy fence to begin, adjacent to the fence that lines the rest of the property. Replacing a section of fencing with the new privacy fence and continuing it further along for the desired effect. That post hole, in theory, should have been the easy one once the previous fence post was removed. But the first probe of the shovel revealed a long-hidden truth that only the original fence installer knew: there was a massive root from a tree growing right through the spot I would need to dig. The original fence post had been cut just below ground level and screwed into the post that was staying. Thus began a three hour conversation with myself about the wisdom of staying in one place for too long, sacrificing a chain saw blade and three reciprocating saw blades to the fence gods.

      But the funny thing about manual labor is the time it gives you inside your own head. That journey three feet into a post hole was a long conversation with myself. The view might not have been the Presidential Range or a waterfall, but if it had been I would have been too far outside of myself to still my mind. Manual labor offers stillness of the mind even as it wears the body down. I’ve built a complete hardscape and renovated much of my home, and find the process rewarding even as I curse myself for not just paying someone else to do it. And the finished product stands as a reminder that you’ve done something of significance. There’s a love of fate that must be applied in the moment that the stoics would be very familiar with. It wasn’t the hole in the ground but the fence that grew from it. And the laborer who found a bit of clarity in the soil and rocks and roots. The time wasn’t lost after all.

    • Merely Time

      “Life will follow the path it started upon, and will neither reverse nor check its course; it will make no noise, it will not remind you of its swiftness.“ – Seneca, On The Shortness Of Life

      I re-read Seneca’s On The Shortness Of Life again over the last few days. Its a quick read but jammed full of timeless quotes we’ve all heard and yet don’t hear. They say repetition penetrates the dullest of minds, and perhaps thats a reason to re-read essays like this often. By dull I don’t mean I’m an idiot (though you may insist I reconsider), but rather distracted by the madness of life. We’re all so distracted by the whirl of everyday that we don’t value the breathless moment we’ll never see again. Seneca pokes at us from a distance- he’s been dead far longer than he was alive. And so will we be someday too soon. And so it is that he reminds us; why are you not fully alive today? Stop postponing time you don’t have!

      “Postponement is the greatest waste of life; it deprives them of each day as it comes, it snatches from them the present by promising something hereafter. The greatest hindrance to living is expectancy, which depends upon the morrow and wastes to-day.”

      It isn’t easy to honor the urgency of life. Even as I write this I’m distracted by other pressing things and need to force myself to turn off the work monitor until normal working hours. To turn off the Twitter feed, and all the rest of the noise. And to reflect on what matters now. For now will surely slip away as quickly as then did. The stack of thens grows taller by the day, casting a shadow on the brightness of tomorrow. There is only now.

      Life is divided into three periods – that which has been, that which is, that which will be. Of these the present time is short, the future is doubtful, the past is certain.”

      So what do we do in a pandemic when we can’t travel freely? In a career that demands fair share of your time? And in other commitments that demand of you? I believe we choose wisely, and make the most of the moments at hand. To live in this moment, drawing from the past for wisdom, and with an eye towards the future we’re navigating towards (even if we might never reach it). Making the most of our lives in the time we have.

      “The part of life we really live is small. For all the rest of existence is not life, but merely time”

    • How Shall I Live?

      “When a person tries to apply his intellect to the question “Why do I exist in this world?” he becomes dizzy. The human intellect cannot find the answers to such questions. What does this mean? This means that our intellect is not given to us to find a solution for this question. Our intellect can only answer the question: “How shall I live?” And the answer is simple: “We should live so as to bring good to all people.” – Leo Tolstoy

      There was a moment in college many years ago when I thought I’d like to major in Philosophy, but couldn’t possible justify it to my peers and parents.  But no matter: I’ve majored in Philosophy off and on ever since.  And it seems from my reading lately that I’m back on.  Perhaps there is something in the air.  Or perhaps there’s something in the changing light as the earth pivots and the days persistently grow shorter.  But I find myself drawn back into the great minds of history lately.  Seneca, Marcus Aurelius, Tolstoy, Campbell, Jung, Nietzsche, Frankl, Thoreau…  and on.

      The root of philosophy are these two questions posed by Tolstoy: Why are we here? and so, How shall I live?   As Leo points out, the first question is one most people don’t dwell on.  Existential questions about why we’re here make you pause a beat too long.  It’s easier to just get right to the second question.

      “I don’t believe people are looking for the meaning of life as much as they are looking for the experience of being alive.” – Joseph Campbell

      Most people just go about living whatever identity they choose for themselves.  For the most part you can march along most of your life just living your chosen identity, until something like 2020 comes along to disrupt that illusion.  The easy path becomes harder, doors that were always open are closed, and the people we’ve come to rely on to reinforce our identity have their own problems.  But there’s nothing unique in history about the challenges we’re dealing with in 2020 – the only thing unique about it is that its happening to us this time.  And in a year as disruptive to identities as this one, what better question to ask of ourselves than how shall I live?

      “As far as we can discern, the sole purpose of human existence is to kindle a light in the darkness of mere being.” – Carl Jung

      Kindling light is lovely, but sometimes your battery is running low and you’re a long way from the dawn.  So where do we go from here?  I hear people despair at lost semesters, lost seasons in sports, lost jobs, lost mobility to cross borders, lost time with loved ones…  and what I hear most is despair of lost identity.  We all had plans for these days, and those plans were turned upside down.  But here in the darkness of 2020 philosophy gently taps you on the shoulder and offers direction from those who came before us, and in many ways suffered in ways that we can’t imagine in our current life of relative comfort:

      “It did not really matter what we expected from life, but rather what life expected from us. We needed to stop asking about the meaning of life, and instead to think of ourselves as those who were being questioned by life – daily and hourly. Our answer must consist, not in talk and meditation, but in right action and in right conduct. Life ultimately means taking the responsibility to find the right answer to its problems and to fulfill the tasks which it constantly sets for each individual.”  – Viktor Frankl, Man’s Search for Meaning

      So how shall I live?  Responsibly; in this moment and the next one too, bringing good to all people and bringing light to the darkest corners.  Offering a shoulder to cry on and an ear for those who need it.  To keep climbing the hill and giving a hand to those who need it.  To be patient with those who lose their way but firm with those who would pull you towards the darkness.  To be a steady presence in an unsteady world.  And when the bucket empties, draw from the wisdom of those who came before for strength and sustenance to keep going.

    • Five Things

      “Strategically, its better to do five big things with your life than 500 half-assed things.” – Derek Sivers, The Knowledge Project podcast

      This statement got me thinking.  I’ve done plenty of half-assed things in my life, but what are the big things, both accomplished and yet to complete?  That’s the real question of a lifetime.  I’m likely past the halfway mark on my own life (you never know), so what have you done with the time?

      “Doesn’t everything die at last, and too soon?
      Tell me, what is it you plan to do
      with your one wild and precious life?”
      — Mary Oliver, The Summer Day

      Raising two children to be good humans is one notable accomplishment.  An accomplishment that was decades in the making.  And if they’re a work in progress, they’re far ahead of where I was at their age.  Surely parenthood is one of the five big things.  When I look at my two I’m amazed at who they’ve become.  I played a part in that (perhaps only as an example of what not to do?).  If you have kids be a responsible kid with them, delighting in the world.  Most of parenthood is figuring things out as you go, but being a steady, reassuring presence in your children’s lives as they stick their own necks out into this crazy world.

      And if parenthood is one big thing, so too must a long, happy marriage?  Having gotten this one very wrong once, I celebrate the one I’ve gotten right.  And by right I mean I haven’t screwed it up just yet, despite my stumbling through the minefield of time.  I’m no expert on the topic, but I’ve learned a few things over the years.  Ultimately you get what you put into something, and if you invest the time and passion into a marriage you’ll have a healthy return on investment with the right partner.  Marriage is never 50/50 – sometimes you give 80, sometimes you give 20, but with the right partner it evens out over time.  So that’s two, for those keeping score, and where do we go from here?

      Career?  One’s career is a complicated journey full of half-assed things, but if you play it well there’s potential for that big thing over time.  If I’ve learned anything at this stage of my career its that relationships and trust built day-after-day matter more than skills accumulated or degrees earned.  It all counts, but nothing matters more than how you interact with others.  I celebrate being in a good place in a complicated time with the potential for great things should I do the work well.  Isn’t that what we all want in a career?  One of the key decisions you’ll make in your career is how much you want to sacrifice time with that family and in your marriage  for career growth.  Choose wisely, for balance is possible.  Life is too short to work for assholes.

      So riddle me this: Beyond family, marriage and career, what are the next couple of big things that you want to accomplish in life?  Starting a business?  Meaningful charitable work?  Environmental activism?  Writing that great American novel?  Athletic accomplishments?  And what of world traveler?  I like to think of myself as an unpaid American diplomat, going out into the world and demonstrating that what you see in the movies and reality television and (God forbid) politics isn’t the real America, but just a part of our story.  There’s a lot to be said for climbing the ladder and reaching a hand down to help others on their own climb.  The more you’re a student of the world, the more you learn and the more you can apply that knowledge towards meaningful interactions.

      “Life is like arriving late for a movie, having to figure out what was going on without bothering everybody with a lot of questions, and then being unexpectedly called away before you find out how it ends.” – Joseph Campbell

      Focus on the big things, and less on the half-assed things.  You’ll know the big things when you find them.  At least I’m counting on that as a guiding principle on my own path.  And if you don’t eventually get five big things accomplished, maybe one or two is enough.  But make them really big things.

    • Dazzling Infinity

      “The buying of more books than one can read is nothing less than the soul reaching toward infinity.” –  A. Edward Newton

      I have an ongoing fascination with the infinite.  Maybe it’s because I’m rather finite myself, with only so many days left at the dance with life.  Or maybe its the humility that comes with thinking about things bigger than yourself that attracts me.  Whatever, the attraction is real.  The French have an expression for it: l’éblouissement de l’infinit or “dazzling infinity”.  I think that’s a fitting adjective to tack on to the infinite. For who among us who bothers to look up from their phone isn’t dazzled by the vastness of the universe?

      I try to create infinity bookends in a day by getting up early for sunrises and going out late to look at the stars as one way of putting myself at the edge of forever.  And it might explain the draw of rivers and the ocean and the mountains.  Each dazzles in their own way because they’re both silent witnesses to forever while simultaneously the embodiment of it.

      The Newton quote above hits close to home.  I do collect impossibly large stacks of books that I fear I’ll never get around to.  But rather than reign in my collection I add to it.  Someday maybe I’ll finish the stack, but I know its almost certainly blind optimism talking.  I may never get to all of the books or all of the places I want to go to, but that doesn’t mean I won’t vainly believe deep down that its possible I could.

      Watching the post-sunset show along the shore of Buzzards Bay a couple of nights ago I thought about the long list of experiences I’d like to have before I go gently into the night.  It seemed a rather long and impossible list given the state of the world at the present moment, but I think its rather like the stack of books.  I may not get to everything on the list, but hopefully I’ll get to enough.

      “Watch the stars in their courses and imagine yourself running alongside them. Think constantly on the changes of the elements into each other, for such thoughts wash away the dust of earthly life.” – Marcus Aurelius, Meditations