Alexandersmap

    Category: Exploration

    • The Consent to Discover

      “One doesn’t discover new lands without consenting to lose sight, for a very long time, of the shore.” — André Gide

      The truth is, we each concede more than we consent. The truth is, discovery is a shore too far for many of us. And yet we each set sail in our own way from the past every day. What seems the same alters ever so slightly each day, imperceptibly, inalterably, and we wrestle with the truth of it whether we set our course for distant shores or futilely try to hold on with all our might to what once was.

      This is the time of year when parents post pictures of children heading off to school, on their way to discovering their own new lands. The discovery isn’t just for the children, but the parents too, as they return to a home different than it was before. At such moments the daily leap is profound in its breadth.

      So often we dwell on the gap between where we are and where we hope to be and our confidence waivers. Discovery requires a leap into the unknown, and the courageous consent to make that leap. Indeed, the thrill of losing sight of who we once were and gliding into an unknown future might be frightening, but ultimately, doesn’t it bring us to places we never thought possible?

      Sometimes we get so caught up in what we might lose that we forget about what we might find.

    • Colors Out of Reach

      Well, I see the end of the rainbow
      But what more is a rainbow
      Than colors out of reach?
      — The Avett Brothers, Swept Away

      There’s a fine line between being satisfied with what you’ve got and yearning for what you haven’t got. I follow, and thus am constantly teased by, Aurora Borealis updates. I happen to live in a place with a very slight chance of seeing the Northern Lights, but sure, I’m saying there’s a chance. The hardy souls who stay up all night on mountain tops for the ten minutes with the Aurora post their photos immediately, making me grumble when I rise early the next morning and see what I’ve missed. But I know that that show wasn’t meant for me.

      We are in our moment, in our place, with or without the things we yearn for. There’s nothing to do about that which we’ve missed out on. For the things we seek, we must either go to them or let them fly away unencumbered by our attempt to grasp them.

      When you go to a place you’ve dreamed of going to, be it a tropical paradise or Paris or (just maybe) Iceland for volcanos and waterfalls and the dance of the Northern Lights, you close the book on dreaming and capture its memory, like a flower folded into a book. The thing is, memories are rainbows out of reach too. But with memories, bits of the color embed themselves in us that live on through us. You can see it in your eyes when you look at yourself in the mirror, and others see it in you too. Each encounter brings more color to our lives.

      Ultimately we can’t have it all, and we ought to focus on the things that are most important to us. Yet there’s something to be said for a recurring dream of light and color dancing in the sky. It will always remain just out of reach, yet so very close to our heart.

      So what do we chase, and what do we let fly away? Don’t we already know? For our answer appears when we stop chasing every rainbow and really think about what’s important now.

      Edinburgh Rainbow

    • What We Will

      “If the world were merely seductive, that would be easy. If it were merely challenging, that would be no problem. But I arise in the morning torn between a desire to improve the world and a desire to enjoy the world. This makes it hard to plan the day.” — E. B. White

      I grow cilantro, not so much to eat it, but to watch bees roll around in the wispy white flowers that wave ever so lightly in the breeze. Surely someone must grow cilantro for all the tasty dishes (or soapy dishes) one might imagine it worthy of, but give me the bees, please. Summer officially ends for me the moment the cilantro peters out—like life itself—entirely too soon.

      The dance between the earnestness of rolling up your sleeves and fixing things versus opening up your heart and savoring all the world offers is a constant struggle. As with everything, we must skate the line between the world of order and the world of chaos, Yin and yang. Nobody said this living business would be easy, but it’s such a short ride we ought to make the most of it.

      Still, there’s work to be done, and no time to waste in solving the world’s problems. As anyone out there trying to get things done knows, there’s just not enough people willing to make a go of it and do the work. Every school, every hospital, every landscaper and construction firm and restaurant is struggling to find a warm body with an eager mind to simply do the work. Who are we to ignore the call? Yet so many do.

      Every day should be filled with a bit of challenge, and a bit of seduction. Every life lived well ends with a measure of satisfaction for the things we did well and a measure of consternation for that which wasn’t accomplished. That’s life, and we must learn to skate that line. In the end, we do with it what we will.

    • Turning Inward for Answers

      He went to Paris
      Looking for answers
      To questions that bothered him so
      — Jimmy Buffett, He Went to Paris

      “As we grow old, the beauty steals inward.” — Ralph Waldo Emerson

      And now I will tell you the truth.
      Everything in the world
      comes.
      At least, closer.
      And, cordially.
      — Mary Oliver, Where Does the Temple Begin, Where Does It End?

      It struck me reading a book on Existentialism that it’s almost impossible to arrive at enlightenment and sagacity when life becomes relentlessly hectic. Try absorbing deep thoughts from another era when you’re exhausted and grabbing a few pages in between commitments and sleep. We’re all so damned busy that we don’t take the time to understand the universe, let alone ourselves. The maze might have a beginning and an end, but we get so caught up finding the cheese that we forget to figure out where we are.

      Busy never answers, busy avoids answers.

      As we stack experiences one atop the other, do we take the time to sort them into insight? We spend so much time focused on becoming and belonging that we short the time required to being. The quest for answers never really ends, but we can edge closer to that which resonates for us. It seems the benefit of aging is capturing the time that eluded us when we were younger to sit with deep thoughts, reflect on the universe and find ourself.

      The real question is, why do we wait so long to sift through the answers?

    • Riding the Storm Out

      The town of Rockland, Maine is a popular summer destination for cruisers, wealthy yacht types, and vacationers from around the world. Many of these land-based guests stay at The Samoset Resort, a classic 1902 hotel resort on the waterfront. Near the Samoset is the historic Rockland Harbor Breakwater. The 1200 meter long, granite breakwater was built to help shelter ships in the harbor during the rougher weather that inevitably rolls in from Penobscot Bay. As you might imagine, putting a long granite breakwater 1200 meters out into the middle of the bay makes the breakwater itself a hazard, and a lighthouse was constructed at the end of it to help ships navigate into the harbor. Walking to the end of the breakwater is a rite of passage for visitors to the region and offers spectacular views.

      A couple of us joined Fayaway for a weekend of cruising around the Penobscot Bay islands. Rockland was our expected destination all along, but the weather forecast brought us there earlier than originally planned. A thick fog greeted us as we rounded Vinalhaven and retraced our route from a few days earlier. The fog lifted and temperature grew noticeably warmer as we motored past the Rockland Harbor Breakwater Light into the mooring field. Well over a hundred people were walking the breakwater, proving that the weather was better on land than it had been on our journey there.

      But we all knew what was coming. Severe storm warnings made it clear for anyone paying attention, and when you’re on a boat you pay attention. We weren’t the only ones seeking safe harbor. Mega yachts began anchoring in a billion dollar conga line. Smaller boats filled the mooring field and local anchorages. The desire to shelter from a storm is universal. Nobody reviews your bank account when the wind starts blowing.

      A late lunch in town got us back to the mooring just as the first raindrops fell. Soon the light patter became a roar as the heavy rains came, and later sustained wind and the heavy gusts. Those gusts capped out close to 60 knots overnight, which might have made it adventurous on an anchorage but on a solid mooring more a curiosity.

      A solid boat like Fayaway and knowledgeable Captain like Chris goes a long way to eliminate potential stress, but you still tend to wonder about the state of other nearby boats on their moorings and anchorages. Each lift and slap of waves on the hull made an impression, making you run through your action plan should something happen like a boat dragging its anchor ramming into you. But as the night wore on and Fayaway shrugged off the wing gusts and wave action, I put aside things I can’t control and appreciated where I was. And with a stormy soundtrack playing in the background I dozed off content and confident. Life is a collection of experiences, and this was surely one to remember.

      Rockland Harbor Breakwater & Light

    • Sunrise and Mosquitoes

      Seal Bay, Maine. 04:30 and a brightening sky. There’s a strong probability of magic in the air. To get up or to linger awhile in the finally-comfortable position I’d found? The answer is obvious by now—up and at ‘em.

      Moving slowly as not to awaken the crew (who inevitably were awakening anyway), I slid open the hatch with an unwelcome bang that turned my intentions upside down. “Sorry,” I mumbled quietly. There’s just no sneaking around on a sailboat.

      Outside, the sky began to glow, as a light breeze carried wispy clouds of fog across the cove. Sitting a few beats, I heard the familiar song of a mosquito buzzing nearby. Damn. Soon another. We take the good with the bad in this world, and reconcile it as best we can. I celebrated a pristine, quiet cove distracted by a hungry swarm of fast flyers. “Such is the way,” whispered an understated sunrise rising above it all. And so it was.

    • Finding Soulfulness in Inefficient Places

      “Everything that feels soulful in life is inefficient. All the vacations that we find very soulful are inefficient places. The food that we really, really like and find soulful are inefficient to cook… maybe soulfulness is a function of chaos and inefficiency... It is impossible to imagine scaling in life without standardizing. And standardizing is the enemy of soulfulness.” — Kunal Shah, Interviewed on The Knowledge Project

      Don’t you feel the weight of truth in Shah’s words? Don’t we feel the lack of soulfulness in a “corporate” vacation destination versus the times we march to our own beat? Who seeks out a national restaurant chain for soulfulness and individual expression by the chef? No, we go to places like Disney World and Applebees for the predictability—good product delivered as expected. No need for translation or a Google search, it’s. just. as. expected. <yawn>.

      We all seek predictable when we can. Heck, I stayed at a Hilton in Vienna instead of a boutique hotel because I could use points and I knew there would be an iron and ironing board in the closet—because there is always an iron and ironing board in the closet of every Hilton property I’ve ever stayed in anywhere in the world. Sometimes you don’t need soulfulness, you just need to iron a damned shirt yourself.

      Contrast this my hotel in Castelrotto, Italy, where our room didn’t have a window but a skylight, no air conditioning or fan, uneven floors and a reception desk in another building down the street. The bell in the tower right above our heads through that open skylight would begin ringing at 06:00 sharp. And you know what? I loved it. The building was older than the United States, that bell was ringing long before I entered this world and the breakfast was a lovely spread of soulful local expression I’d never have found in a hotel chain. There’s something to be said for inefficiency too.

      So how do we create soulfulness in our own work? We don’t do it by parroting whatever business book we just read in our next meeting with coworkers or customers. And we don’t do it by following the corporate handbook to the letter (but don’t you dare stray a step too far). No, we create soulfulness when we find our unique voice in the process of turning chaos into order and eliminating inefficiencies. Ironic, isn’t it? But meaningful work isn’t chaotic, it’s expressive yet contributive. We don’t add to the Great Conversation by shouting over the crowd, nor do we help a company meet its quarterly objectives without following an informed policy or two.

      Here’s the twist: we find soulfulness in our work through routine. This isn’t standardization, this is disciplined dues-paying to reach a place where we might transcend the average. We write a million average phrases to turn one clever, soulful phrase that resonates. We refine widgets over and over again until something perfect emerges. Soulfulness is developed through routine but released through individual, and thus inefficient, expression.

    • Stepping Into a Larger Life

      “Only in those moments when we take life on, when we move through the archaic field of anxiety, when we drive through the blockage, do we get a larger life and get unstuck. Ironically, we will then have to face a new anxiety, the anxiety of stepping into a life larger than has been comfortable for us in the past.” — James Hollis, Living an Examined Life

      Many of us chase vibrant experience through state change. Early this morning I plunged into a pool to completely change my state from groggy to vibrantly aware of the world around me. As you might expect it did the trick immediately. But we don’t need a pool to change our state, any plunge into the unknown should get us there eventually.

      Many of us avoid change at all costs. There’s a reason that early morning plunges into a pool seems so unreasonable to so many—the majority would rather hit the snooze button and slowly reconcile themselves to another day of whatever it is that dictates their lives. People who deliberately and regularly challenge their comfort zone seem a bit… unusual. When you’ve got a good thing going why rock the boat? But isn’t it fair to ask: Why the heck not? When we consider the worst possible outcome to any given action, most of the time we’d come out okay in the end. We ought to take more examined leaps in this lifetime.

      What makes us unique out of the billions of people who have ever lived is our individual experiences and the perspective that is derived from them. That thought process cranking away behind those eyes that see (or don’t see) the world around them is the core to our identity. Call me crazy if you will, but I’d rather have the jambalaya version of life than the tomato soup. Throw as much as you can in the bowl and heat it up. We’ve only got this one meal together.

      The thing is, we’re all prone to both tendencies. For all my chasing of experience in this world, I live a relatively stable, some might say boring, life. But chasing state change doesn’t mean we have to throw ourselves into chaos daily. It simply means opening ourselves up to new experiences. Try to learn a new language, walk around the block the opposite way, have tea instead of coffee, write about something [eclectically] different every day, do something completely out of the norm this weekend… whatever makes the back of your neck tingle when you even dare to think about it.

      To step into a larger life, we’ve got to get used to treading into the unknown. When we dance with a bit of mystery we release magic into our lives. That measure of magic might just make us bold enough to go bigger next time, and the time after that. So it is that we grow into our lives one incrementally bolder step at a time.

    • A Swim in the Broth

      “Consider the ordinary barnacle, the rock barnacle. Inside every one of those millions of hard white cones on the rocks—the kind that bruises your heel as you bruise its head—is of course a creature as alive as you or I. Its business in life is this: when a wave washes over it, it sticks out twelve feathery feeding appendages and filters the plankton for food. As it grows, it sheds its skin like a lobster, enlarges its shell, and reproduces itself without end. The larvae “hatch into the sea in milky clouds.” The barnacles encrusting a single half mile of shore can leak into the water a million million larvae. How many is that to a human mouthful? In sea water they grow, molt, change shape wildly, and eventually, after several months, settle on the rocks, turn into adults, and build shells. Inside the shells they have to shed their skins… My point about rock barnacles is those million million larvae “in milky clouds” and those shed flecks of skin. Sea water seems suddenly to be but a broth of barnacle bits.” — Annie Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek

      I confess to briefly recalling this tidbit from Dillard while reacquainting myself with Buzzards Bay, but mostly I considered the front paws of my canine swimming partner enthusiastically paddling in my direction, and equally pressing, the rumble of morning thunder close enough to keep the swim brief. We don’t think about barnacle bits when we swim in salt water any more than we think about the vapor particles we breathe in in a crowded room (at least until the pandemic). These are simply part of the deal. We embrace the universe as it snuggles in close or we curl up in terror under the covers.

      The point is, we’re meant to be out there living in the world. So dip a toe in the broth, or better yet, plunge right in. For we are very much a part of the stew of life and ought to celebrate our brief moment together. But appreciate that outdoor shower afterwards just a little more.

    • Become a Holy Fire

      “And I have often noticed that even a few minutes of this self-forgetfulness is tremendously invigorating. I wonder if we do not waste most of our energy just by spending every waking minute saying hello to ourselves. Martin Buber quotes an old Hasid master who said, “When you walk across the fields with your mind pure and holy, then from all the stones, and all growing things, and all animals, the sparks of their soul come out and cling to you, and then they are purified and become a holy fire in you.” — Annie Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek

      Walking about the garden upon a return from two weeks in Europe, seeing the progress of some plants and the decline of others from neglect, it’s easy to become lost in self-forgetfulness. Minor tasks become meditative when we focus on the work. So it is with hiking in solitude, where every step matters and the mind is forced to quiet itself that you may land properly to take the next one.

      If the aim is to become more open to the spirit of the world around us, surely we must quiet the chatter in our own heads. Be still, learn to listen, observe and receive the energy that might otherwise bounce off our closed mind to find a more willing recipient. What do we lose in our closed-minded self-conversation but our chance to be one with the universe?

      The thing is, most of our self-talk is useless at best and detrimental to our progress at worst. Our Lizard Brain, as Seth Godin calls it, is our worst enemy, making us feel like we aren’t measuring up, that we should have done things differently, that we don’t deserve the moment we’re in now. It’s all crap, and not what we’d expect in a close friend. But who is closer to us than ourselves?

      This Hasidic concept of receptiveness is one way to push aside the self. If we are to become a holy fire today—and in our stack of days, we must tune our receiver and accept the positive fuel that stokes our furnace. We must throw aside the wet blanket of self and accept the world as it offers itself to us.