Alexandersmap

    Category: Exploration

    • A Thing Promised

      Who hasn’t thought, “Take me with you,”
      hearing the wind go by?
      And finding himself left behind, resumed
      his own true version of time
      on earth, a seed fallen here to die
      and be born a thing promised
      — Li-Young Lee, To Life

      We feel the urgency to live, feel it deeply within. We see the days go by so rapidly—blink and you’ll miss it quick—and something wells up inside of us to do something with the moment. Before it’s gone forever. Each moment matters, the moments of inertia just the same as the moments of peak performance (whatever that might mean for us). We are the sum of each, collected in our time, defining our lives.

      Each of us wrestles with the desire for more against the desire to savor what we have already. This restlessness is expressed in different ways, varying from bucket list experience-checking to home improvement projects to staying up all night to read a page-turner, or perhaps binge-watching a favorite show just to know how it ends. What satiates this restlessness? When do we linger a beat longer?

      As we accumulate experience, we naturally want more of it. To leave this world with boxes unchecked seems a waste. But rushing off to the next big thing usually means missing the best part of the big thing we’re already living in. The moments that are locked in the amber of our memories are those moments we paused a beat and payed attention. Dwelling in place and time offers opportunities to add layers of experience too.

      Seeds are often carried by the wind, but grow in place. Aren’t we the same? Our best relationships with people and place are developed over time. Our promise in this lifetime is fulfilled with our presence.

    • Greek Coffee

      Greek coffee is a lot like Cuban or Turkish coffee. Strong and bitter and best mixed with a bit of sweetness. They warn you when you receive it not to drink it to the last drop, for you’ll find the grounds there. There’s none of that filtering nonsense with Greek coffee, friend. Americans drink to the last drop, the Greeks leave a bit behind. Call it an offering to the gods if you will, or simple prudence.

      You might anticipate the effect of a strong Greek coffee after dinner on my sleep pattern. Timing is everything with new experiences. In fact, I could use another one of those coffees as a reset for the day ahead. The caffeine will be welcome, but it surely won’t be as interesting as that first taste of something similar, but entirely different.

      We’re blessed with so much in this modern world, isn’t it a tragedy to order the same things on the menu every day? Our best life is full of new and enriching moments, grounded by the people and experiences that carried us to this moment. That openness to new experiences rewards us with a richness far beyond our bank accounts. Visit the uncommon places, order something you can’t pronounce now and then, opt for the local coffee instead of the Americano. Live! We are better for having gone there.

    • The Gestures With Which We Honor

      the path to heaven doesn’t lie down in flat miles.
      It’s in the imagination
      with which you perceive
      this world, and the gestures
      with which you honor it
      — Mary Oliver, The Swan

      Heaven is right here, friends. Whatever comes later is unknown to all of us, no matter how much faith we hold. The trick is to be here, now, and love what we have (Amor fati). What comes next has never been in our control, but how we react in this moment is all ours. Not impetuous, not cynical, but earnestly open to all that comes to us in this lifetime.

      I’m excited about the day ahead. Are you? So full of potential, so ready to be experienced. Full of challenges and tests of our will to be sure, but also full of wonder and fresh perspective. That wonder is all around us, a spark of insight into the universe instantly recognized when we pay attention. Pay attention, for it’s there we find delight.

      Don’t wait for heaven. We must find what we can of it today. Tomorrow will take care of itself. It always does.

    • Orange and Order

      “Rejoice! The purpose of life is joy. Rejoice at the sky, the sun, the stars, the grass, the trees, animals, people. If this joy is disturbed it means that you’ve made a mistake somewhere. Find your mistake and correct it. Most often this joy is disturbed by money and ambition.”
      — Leo Tolstoy (via Poetic Outlaws)

      “No one is singular, that no argument will change the course, that one’s time is more gone than not, and what is left waits to be spent gracefully and attentively, if not quite so actively.” — Mary Oliver, Winter Hours

      Productivity and bold action have their place in this world, for progress depends on it. Progress for humanity, surely, but also for the individual. But we must remember too that we skate a line between Yin and Yang, and balance is the key. If Yang represents boldness and action, Yin represents temperance and reflection. It’s quite figuratively day and night, which may be why some of us find the orange hour in between to be our happiest place.

      Our best life is found in balance, and we feel the urge to lean in to both extremes now and then when our body and soul remind us of our imbalance. This disturbance of the Force (if you will) creates restlessness, which in turn triggers change. We all feel it in our own way. For me, it’s often the nagging question of “what’s next?” wrestling with the emphatic reply of “here and now”. Action calls, joy reminds. What will we listen to today?

      Somewhere along the way I’ve put aside some goals I’d been chasing for a lifetime. Somewhere along the way I’ve leaned into different objectives for the balance of my time. We are each in the process of becoming what’s next, and possibly even savoring what it is we’ve become thus far. Life is balance between the two, represented by orange and order. That balance is where the joy is.

      Orange Hour

    • A Dash of Flavor

      If most of life is lived in a steady state of routine, we have the opportunity to add micro-bursts of exceptional living now and then to spice up this dish. Some people take that opportunity whenever a free moment comes along, some embrace routine for their entire journey. Bursts of unique experiences can be quite thrilling. Conversely, routine can be quite fulfilling. Who are we to judge which is best? Maybe the answer is a wee bit of both.

      A couple of senior sisters I know recently took an epic roadtrip from New England to Florida, stopping at bucket list historic sites along the way. These were places they’d always wanted to visit, but kept putting off to prioritize the routine things that came up in their lives. This trip was a burst of adventure that they’ll talk about for years to come. I hope they’re already planning their next adventure.

      I’ve come to terms with not selling everything and sailing around the world. Simply put, I have a lot to do right here and now that compels me to embrace some level of routine that reinforces the productive, creative soul I’ve decided to be. That doesn’t mean I’ve accepted blandness in my life diet. Every day offers the opportunity for more flavor than we’d otherwise consider. Add a dash.

      The rower in me knows how this goes. Most of the race is intense steady state, with a few bursts of all-out effort to pull ahead. You don’t win the race rowing steady state the entire way, nor can you sustain all-out effort for 2000 meters. You must be strategic in where you use your energy, ensuring that you don’t run out of gas before the finish (“fly and die”), while also reaching the end with an empty tank (thus, doing your best). A productive life has similar cadence.

      “We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence, then, is not an act, but a habit.” — Aristotle (or was it Will Durant?)

      Surely, we can do more than we believe is possible in a day, let alone a lifetime. Another lesson from rowing was to just focus on the next stroke, and then the one after that. Dwelling on what is sustainable is a sure way of talking yourself out of doing anything at all. Still, we must use our power budget wisely. Micro-bursts of activity teach us what is possible, while offering a light at the end of the tunnel. Knowing we only have this brief time to do things, why not maximize the moment?

      We can’t have it all, but we can have a lot more than we give ourselves permission to go after in life. Spice up life with a burst of adventure now and then, for it’s good for the soul. It also informs us of what’s possible. Too much spice can ruin a dish, but not enough and it’s bland. There’s that line between chaos and order again, showing us that balance is the key. Just don’t confuse balance with timidity. Be bold.

    • A Visit to Joshua Tree

      California’s Joshua Tree National Park is technically a part of the Mojave Desert, but it straddles the Colorado Desert. Where the Mojave is considered a high elevation desert, the Colorado Desert is a low elevation desert. So Joshua Tree is the unique meeting place of the two extremes. It was protected as a national monument in 1936, largely to stop cactus poachers from taking everything, and elevated to a national park in 1994 as part of the Desert Protection Bill. It’s namesake, the Joshua Tree, or Yucca brevifolia, earned its nickname for resembling arms raised in supplication, and became famous when U2 gave the name to their biggest album. U2 put Joshua Tree on my radar, and I’ve felt compelled to visit ever since.

      Joshua Tree is famous for more than just the yuccas dotting the arid landscape. There are massive boulders and rock formations to explore. Three of the most famous of these are Arch Rock, Skull Rock and the once evasive Heart Rock. Fame comes with a price, and each had swarms of tourists descending on them for photographs. I descended on them too, of course, and managed a few pictures without people crawling into view with patience and creative staging. Each picture you see below was the result of waiting out the people taking their version of the same picture. But this is what you get in a place like this. Better to share than to have it owned by a private individual who bars access. National Parks are a treasure for all citizens to enjoy.

      My visit to Joshua Tree National Park was a detour from Las Vegas to Los Angeles. This drive took me through the stark landscape of the Mojave Desert. This is a place where a full tank of gasoline and plenty of water are essential elements of your self-preservation. It’s so very different from the two cities on either end of the journey. You can see no signs of life for miles around you driving through the desert, and the desert is indifferent to your desire to stay alive in it. Come prepared.

      There are several places to camp in Joshua Tree, and some additional motels nearby. There’s even a Starbucks in Twentynine Palms, not ten minutes from one of the entrances to the park. Civilization isn’t far at all from some parts of Joshua Tree, but you’ll feel like you’re on another planet anyway.

      Arch Rock
      Heart Rock
      Joshua Tree (Yucca brevifolia)
      Cholla Cactus Garden
      Skull Rock
      Rock scrambler’s paradise

    • Art With a Spritz of Lime

      “Art is art and life is life, but to live life artistically; that is the art of life.”— Peter Altenberg

      A close friend has a flare for living well. He’ll spritz lime on a potato dish and make something extraordinary of what was moments before thought to be disparate produce. He’s always looking for the exceptional in an otherwise average day. And he drives many people mad as a result. Like that burst of citrus in a starchy dish, I find his perspective punctuates life perfectly.

      This business of living artistically is something to aspire to. Capturing moments with a bit of magic and moving through the ordinary with je ne sais quoi, these are the things that matter very much in a world that wants you to fall in line and fit right in. Certainly, we must do our job and do it well, but why always settle for vanilla?

      We each live on both sides of ordinary. It’s a gift to be human at a time and place when you can express yourself freely. We ought to use that gift and add more flavor to our days. Like every gift, we must choose to use it. Art is a deliberate act, expressed uniquely. What might we bring to the table if we have the gumption to try something new?

      We all know the expression: when the world throws you lemons, make lemonade. There’s another clever expression I once found on a kitchen magnet that adds a twist: when the world throws you limes, make margaritas. To this I’ll add, don’t forget to save some lime for the potatoes.

    • These Roads

      These roads don’t move;
      You’re the one that moves.
      — Jay Farrar and Benjamin Gibbard, These Roads Don’t Move

      Jay Farrar framed this song around the words of Jack Kerouac back in 2009. I’d first heard it while driving around the northeast, trying to make things work in a job I’d eventually leave. The song has been a favorite ever since. Jobs come and go, songs and memories stick with us for a lifetime.

      Back when this song was released, I often thought I ought to write more, but never got around to it. Mostly I felt I didn’t have enough to say. I wonder what that me would have come up with? I can guess, being me at the time, but not really the me of now. Somewhere there are old journals full of quotes and restless thoughts of a younger man, then, as now, trying to figure things out. What was missing was the act of publishing. But the universe wasn’t exactly feeling the void. Only me.

      Writing is simply a routine developed over time. So it is with collecting experience. We move through the world bearing witness to all that we stumble upon, while doing our best to rise to meet the moment. Each road brought us here. But we’re the ones that moved.

    • The Call of the Wild

      “Deep in the forest a call was sounding, and as often as he heard this call, mysteriously thrilling and luring, he felt compelled to turn his back upon the fire and the beaten earth around it, and to plunge into the forest, and on and on, he knew not where or why; nor did he wonder where or why, the call sounding imperiously, deep in the forest.”
      ― Jack London, The Call of the Wild

      Finishing my first cup of coffee, I heard the distinctive honk of a skein of geese. Quickly removing myself from the comfort of the moment, I caught the geese circling back around the woods and turn towards a local pond. The rising sun caught them in flight, illuminating their bodies in the red light of dawn. They soon disappeared behind the roofline and the honks faded away as I walked back into the warmth of the nest.

      We know deep down whether we were meant to be wild things or creatures of comfort. The world wants very much for us to seek comfort, to leave those crazy dreams well enough alone and celebrate the nest—to turn back towards the fire. Maybe a little part of us feels this too. So why are we so drawn to wild things? What is it that we seek?

      I believe it’s vitality. Vitality bursts out of us, it isn’t buried in the mundane. It is not another cup of coffee to get through the hour, or a nightcap to wash away the day. To be fully alive we must step out of ourselves and be uncomfortable. Test limits and stretch to new places. To do otherwise is to avoid a full and vibrant life.

      “You cannot find peace by avoiding life.” — Virginia Woolf

      Will we be drawn to the Siren’s call to the rocks or to the call of the wild? One calls us to accept what always was until our end, the other calls us to fly. We ought to ask ourselves, is inertia comfort in disguise, and vitality masked by the judgement of imprudence? We are, each of us, on a hero’s journey, listening for our calling. What call will we turn towards?

    • Bury Regret

      “I want to live my life so that my nights are not full of regrets.” — D. H. Lawrence

      D. H. Lawrence, his hand forced by a society that wasn’t quite ready for what he had to say, was a traveler. One could safely say he had an adventurous spirit. That his ashes were eventually scattered in the sea to freely roam the world seems poetic in the end.

      Recently I’ve opted out of two adventures that didn’t seem prudent at the time. I wonder, even now, what the return shall be on my investment in practicality? A stack of still more practical days thereafter? I should think a collection of passport stamps, photographs and memories would be the more sound investment.

      D.H. died at 44, a young man still, not so very full of an old man’s regrets. The lesson, from he and all who came before us, remains starkly clear. The graveyard is full of unresolved regret. We the living, must clear our minds of all that we might regret later by living a full life today. Never nihilism, for meaning and purpose are our pursuit, but surely embracing richer experience. We regret that which remains unfulfilled. Bury regret in favor of a full life today.