Alexandersmap

    Category: Travel

    • Something Much Larger

      “Your passions should fit you exactly,
      but your purpose in life should exceed you.
      Work for something
      much larger than yourself.”
      — Kevin Kelly, Excellent Advice for Living

      Some days things larger than ourself grab hold of us and dominate our attention. There have been a lot of such moments this year in my life, and I bet in yours too. We must recognize the moment and meet it. Sometimes it’s just our time to get to work on something far exceeding the self.

      What is purpose but striving toward some worthy goal far beyond the selfish goblin endlessly crying “Me! Me! Me!” between our ears? When we stop paying attention to our ego and start looking for ways to contribute to the far-beyond-us, we learn and grow and become more useful for the universe. And in the process, we become something greater than who we were before.

      The answer is simply to work, not whine. See the need and get to work addressing it. But our call to service is only heard when we shut up and listen to those calls for help. It’s amazing what we can see and hear when we stop singing our own tune long enough to understand what’s being said all around us.

    • The First of That Which Comes

      “In rivers, the water that you touch is the last of what has passed, and the first of that which comes. So with time present.”

      “Observe the light. Blink your eye and look at it again. That which you see was not there at first, and that which was there is no more.”
      — Leonardo da Vinci, Codex Arundel

      Let’s talk of matters for a moment. What we did with our time that has passed matters, for it brought us here. And what happens here matters just as much for what happens next. So the heart of the matter is an instant of action moving us from what was to what is to what will be (or will be no more). Everything changes—whether we’re aware of it or not is beside the point.

      So it follows that awareness and action are two of the most essential assets in our toolbox. We move through moments either way, but what do we really see? What do we really influence? Putting aside all that is out of our control, it’s largely ours to see and be.

      Memory is our companion on our path to what’s next. We each remember moments from our journey to now as if they had just happened. If we’re blessed with a series of good decisions, many of those memories are pleasing to recall. But we also carry our mistakes with us, nagging us in quiet moments. Memory loves to play our greatest hits, but also our biggest mistakes. It’s all a part of us that brought us here.

      Dreams are lovely things indeed. We each imagine a future full of wonderful. There are no aches and pains and lingering sadness, only blissful discovery surrounded by loved ones. Watch a commercial for a luxury cruise line or Disney World and you’ll see some version of the dream. Marketing people know how to pull dollars out of imagination.

      We ought to remember that we have agency too. To realize an imagined future requires the use of those tools in our toolbox. To be aware of where we are and what we’re trending towards, and to take action to influence a more compelling future. To be aware of time passing by and the opportunity at hand before it slips away forever, joining those regrets in our memory bank. To have awareness without action is to concede our lives to fate. Decide what to be and go be it.

      Tempus fugit, friend. Can you believe another month is over? Don’t blink! Time moves at the blink of an eye, and the future is coming for us faster than we ever could believe. Our task is to become a brighter, healthier and more engaged-with-life time traveler. So grab that tiger by the tail and make it a heck of a ride. The first of that which comes is right here.

    • It’s Our Time Now

      “The final mystery is oneself. When one has weighed the sun in the balance, and measured the steps of the moon, and mapped out the seven heavens star by star, there still remains oneself. Who can calculate the orbit of his own soul?” — Oscar Wilde, De Profundis

      The end of the Winter Olympics brought with it the usual mixed feelings. On the one hand, there’s a glow from witnessing the pursuit of excellence that inspires and stimulates one’s own pursuit of arete. When we see elite athletes performing at a high level, it’s natural to ask what in the world we’re doing with our own precious life.

      The answer, friend, is the best that we can given the circumstances. We are on our own path of discovery. We are on our own climb to better. We may celebrate the excellence of others, but don’t dare to compare, for we know that comparison is the death of joy.

      The end of the Olympics also releases us from watching them, that we may go forth and do our own thing once again. We are in the business of optimization of the self, first and foremost, because that’s who we’ve got to spend the rest of this lifetime with. So take stock of what’s working and keep moving in that direction, but surely, also make note of what’s not working and begin to reinvent, remove and restore accordingly. For it’s our time now.

    • Places to Go, Places to Be

      “Don’t you know that we must always have a place where we never go but where we think we’d be happy if we did?” — Nicolas de Chamfort

      “He who travels much has this advantage over others – that the things he remembers soon become remote, so that in a short time they acquire the vague and poetical quality which is only given to other things by time. He who has not traveled at all has this disadvantage – that all his memories are of things present somewhere, since the places with which all his memories are concerned are present.” — Giacomo Leopardi

      A conversation just yesterday reminded me of the places I used to go and the person I used to be. I was that character in Up in the Air, collecting air miles and hotel points, skipping the regular line for the high roller service. In Ottawa one day, Miami the next. I actually had a TSA Agent so familiar with me that he’d ask where I was going this time as I made my way through the screening process. Those were the days.

      I don’t miss them. Sure, I miss the air miles and finding interesting places. This blog started because of those interesting places I’d stumble across in my travels. I could sniff out a waterfall or an historical monument with the best of them. And I do miss that part of my travels. I just don’t miss the gap between home and away. Instead of the rhythm of business travel, I’m immersed in the rhythm of home life. And with it, a sense of place redevelops. I’ve been here before, but my perspective has changed.

      There is still travel. There will be more waterfalls soon enough. The passport will likely fill with stamps again. Not as frequently, but filled just the same. New borders to cross, new languages to attempt, new people to remember one day when we reminisce. That is the beauty of venturing. But we can’t forget the beauty of returning back to the place we ventured from. A home port has its own appeal, should we linger long enough to remember.

      The thing is, we have places we want to go in this lifetime. Some of us wear our heart on our sleeve about such places. But we’ve also got places to be. And being is the whole point of living. To be present with where we are now, and to be in this moment fully alive and aware, is to capture something of it that we will one day remember. So stop hustling about, dreaming of the next. Be here now, and have a look around. For it will all change one day just as we ourselves will.

    • The Call to Experience

      I am a part of all that I have met;
      Yet all experience is an arch wherethro’
      Gleams that untravell’d world whose margin fades
      — Alfred Tennyson, Ulysses

      There is a call to experience that draws us out into the world. Each experience in turn informs—there is still more awaiting us. The proper answer to the call is to keep going, to keep doing interesting things that expand our horizon. This is the life of discovery and wonder. It is ours for simply taking the bold next step into the unknown. We are a part of all that we have met, yet all that remains extends far beyond our capacity to reach it.

      There is a price for all things. To explore the untraveled world means less time in the garden, less time being present in the lives of our close circle, less time in our familiar routine. But less time is the curse of all humans. Every day we wake to a new day we have less time. When we come to accept this we learn to focus on making the most of the shrinking time we have.

      Is the siren the call to experience or the call to home? Does it prompt us or haunt us? Are we to be dashed on the rocks chasing the wrong passion, or doomed to wander forever, never reaching home? We cannot live in fear of possibilities, but simply strive to close the gap between where we are and what we dream to do and be and see in the time we have left.

    • Life and Love and Wings

      i thank You God for most this amazing
      day: for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
      and a blue true dream of sky; and for everything
      which is natural which is infinite which is yes

      (i who have died am alive again today,
      and this is the sun’s birthday; this is the birth
      day of life and of love and wings: and of the gay
      great happening illimitably earth)

      how should tasting touching hearing seeing
      breathing any—lifted from the no
      of all nothing—human merely being
      doubt unimaginable You?

      (now the ears of my ears awake and
      now the eyes of my eyes are opened)

      — E. E. Cummings, i thank You God for this amazing

      We dwell so often on our limitations; Limited time, limited capacity for learning new things or for being patient with the things in our life that overstay their welcome. We are bound by commitments, with reasons, with a lack of imagination for breaking free from all of that and living an expansive life. We are locked into routine and measure our days incrementally. How are we to grow when we are forever held captive by a lack of audace créatrice (creative audacity)?

      To be unbounded and unlimited is of course a fantasy. We all will die one day (memento mori). Infinite growth is not for mere mortals. And yet we may live a far more expansive life than we mortals usually attempt. We are no more and no less than what we do with our time.

      Why worry about all that today when we can simply do what must be done and defer hopes and dreams indefinitely? Because now is all we have. Growing into our possibility begins now. It always has and always will be so. But thinking in terms like “always” is its own trap. Because it lets us off the hook of immediacy. We must steer clear of such traps and simply think of now. For this is the birth day of life and of love and wings. So do begin.

    • Twice Beautiful

      Beauty is twice
      beautiful
      and goodness is doubly
      good
      when
      it concerns two wools
      socks
      in winter.
      — Pablo Neruda, Ode To A Pair Of Socks

      There are two kinds of people in this world. Those who complain about the weather and those who dress for the weather we’ve been blessed to experience this day. The former tend to shelter in place. The latter tend to step out into it. I don’t judge either camp, but I’m clearly in the latter.

      While snowshoeing Saturday morning, I came to a split in the trail. I went to the left that morning, breaking trail and returning with the thrill of having been out in it, doing the work of being fully-alive on a bright clear morning. But all that evening I thought about the path not taken. It remained unbroken and unexplored, and with that, I felt incomplete. Those paths not taken have a way of haunting us, don’t they?

      The only thing to do was to go out again Sunday morning to see what was left for me. I silently hoped it would be unbroken still, that I might finish what I started. I saw footprints in the snowshoe tracks I’d laid and thought to myself that the opportunity was lost. But the footprints crossed the bridge and then turned back, indicating someone inclined towards common sense. Why continue on trails without the proper gear?

      The thing is, I had the proper gear. And so I kept on walking to that fork in the path and turned right onto a gloriously unbroken trail, blazing a path for any who might follow. There is sheer delight to be found in the cold stillness of a pristine snowy forest, so long as you’re prepared to be out in it and have the tools to make your way back out again no matter what.

      Having completed that walk, I doubled down with another, bringing the pup to the beach for a second winter walk. That proved far colder with wind chill cutting through our gear. Cold is one thing, cold wind is something else entirely. Even proper winter gear will let you know when it just isn’t enough. We simply have to listen to what nature is telling us.

      The pup loves the beach and could have stayed all day but for the wind. Even clad in a winter coat of her own, she knew when we were having too much of a good thing. Sometimes the best thing to do is to step out into it. And sometimes it’s best to simply turn back with stories to tell. Two stories in fact. Twice beautiful, simply for having ventured out to meet them.

      Two paths diverged. Hampstead Conservation Land.
      Snow on dunes. Hampton Beach State Park.

    • Courage

      “What would life be if we had no courage to attempt anything?”
      — Vincent van Gogh

      When we look back, how does the path that brought us here look? Probably full of switchbacks and a few dead ends, some steep learning curves and false peaks, disappointing descents and surprising vistas that taught us a thing or two. Life is a series of attempts at something new. We may be bold today and again tomorrow, or we can shrink into familiar and less risky ventures. Which is the hero’s journey? Which will give us a better story in the end?

      None of this will mean a thing a hundred years from now. If we’re lucky maybe one small thing will break through and resonate beyond. Whatever project we’re currently working on is unlikely to resonate through the ages like Irises. Does that mean I shouldn’t write this blog post or go to work today? Purpose is discovered through daily action and the courage to change course when the one we’re on isn’t bringing us to where we’d like to go. Van Gogh painted Irises shortly after checking into the Saint Paul-de-Mausole asylum. Do you wonder if he considered his own path clear and straight to the top?

      It’s not just okay to try new things, it’s imperative that we do so. Exploring new paths opens up new opportunities, it colors our world with new perspective, it teaches us who we might be simply by stepping away from the tried and true. Some paths turn out to be magical, but we’ve learned that some will crush our spirit. Knowing this, courage is indeed necessary to rise again to try another. And another. And yet another. In this way, we grow into who we might become in this lifetime.

      Irises, at the J. Paul Getty Museum

    • Our Few Things

      “Convenience culture seduces us into imagining that we might find room for everything important by eliminating only life’s tedious tasks. But it’s a lie. You have to choose a few things, sacrifice everything else, and deal with the inevitable sense of loss that results.”
      — Oliver Burkeman, Four Thousand Weeks: Time Management for Mortals

      We believe we have all the time in the world, and with that belief, take on more than we should. The most effective people are those who say no to most everything thrown at them, and yes to a precious few. We are thus as effective as we choose to be.

      This blog post began early, lingered in the back of my mind during a long, full day, and awaited me when I returned. By all accounts, I should have simply let it go today to focus on the crush of other things that want my attention today. But the thing is, writing is one of those precious few for me, and so deserves the measure of time I have available to give it. We must know what our non-negotiables are, along with the bit players who fill the gaps. We shouldn’t ever confuse our precious few with a gap filler.

      So what are we okay with seeing slip away today? If we can’t be exceptional at everything, what thing is truly an exception? Focus on the few lest we see them lost in the many.

    • A More Available Life

      “The more you move, the more available you are to chance and little wonders.” — Douglas Westerbeke, A Short Walk Through A Wide World

      To be open to experience is risky. Openness requires more of us than to simply stay in place, doing what we’ve always done, in this familiar way that we’ve always done it. That sentence either sounds like comfort to us or a death sentence, depending on who we have grown to be.

      Westerbeke’s novel is a page-turning wonder itself, as its hero moves through the world. For those of us with travel lust, it stirs those familiar feelings. To leave all of this and go find out more about that, whatever and wherever that is. In experiencing that, we learn a lot about who we are in the process. We are moving beyond the self in such moments. We are living a more available life.

      It sounds wonderful to be forever traveling, forever moving from place to place, as if we’d die if we stayed too long in any one place. In reality, we need a safe harbor to return to now and then, to catch up with old friends and family, to tend a garden and to be there for the harvest, to know the way and what to order at certain restaurants. Familiar has its place in our lives too.

      To weave oneself back into a community is a lovely thing indeed. My barber knows my face and exactly how to cut my hair the moment I walk in the door, even if he hasn’t learned my name in the twenty years I’ve been going there. Honestly, I don’t need him to know my name, only that I’ll be back again in a few weeks to do it all over again. The stories I tell him about where I’ve been since the last time he cut my hair carry him away from that barber shop even as I settle into the familiarity of it.

      As we begin this year, as we venture into an uncertain future, what are we inclined to chance upon? What will we wonder at? Sometimes it’s right in front of us, or within the pages of a book. But often it’s beyond our current experience, simply waiting for us to venture to it. To add venturing to our lives naturally lends itself to more adventure. To go and be and do and yes, to return again forever changed, in the time we have available to us.

      Tempus fugit: Time flies. Every moment of now is rapidly receding into then. How we use now isn’t always up to us, but sometimes—more often that we believe, it is ours alone to spend. Will this day, this year and the balance of our lives be full of familiar routines and comforting safe bets or will we dare to venture beyond?