Alexandersmap

    Category: Exploration

    • Crossing the Stream to Deeper

      “If you want to win the war for attention, don’t try to say ‘no’ to the trivial distractions you find on the information smorgasbord; try to say ‘yes’ to the subject that arouses a terrifying longing, and let the terrifying longing crowd out everything else….

      The way to discover a terrifying longing is to liberate yourself from the self-censoring labels you began to tell yourself over the course of your mis-education… Focus on the external objects of fascination, not on who you think you are. Find people with overlapping obsessions.

      The information universe tempts you with mildly pleasant but ultimately numbing diversions. The only way to stay fully alive is to dive down to your obsessions six fathoms deep. Down there it’s possible to make progress toward fulfilling your terrifying longing, which is the experience that produces the joy.”
      — David Brooks, “The Art of Focus”, The New York Times

      The tricky thing about discovering “primary source” material is that you’ll uncover that what you believed to be primary source references other primary sources, which infers they aren’t the primary source at all. Such is the Great Conversation, spinning through life one book, interview or article at a time. We leap from one to the other, like stones across a stream, until we reach our destination with delight (and a new stack of reading material).

      Something recently pointed me towards Cal Newport’s Deep Work, which is a how-to book on pushing the shallow work aside to get to the deep work, where we differentiate ourselves and find true meaning in our careers and lives. Newport, in turn, pointed me towards several articles and books that I hadn’t previously been aware of, and a couple that I hadn’t fully absorbed on the first go-around. I’ve pursued them all recently, all in an effort to get meaningful work done. For we all must go deeper if there’s any hope for us to contribute something meaningful. And that requires breaking the spell of distraction:

      “Efforts to deepen your focus will struggle if you don’t simultaneously wean your mind from a dependence on distraction. Much in the same way that athletes must take care of their bodies outside of their training sessions, you’ll struggle to achieve the deepest levels of concentration if you spend the rest of your time fleeing the slightest hint of boredom.” — Cal Newport, Deep Work: Rules for Focused Success in a Distracted World

      Here’s the thing: In diving into all this material around deep work, I’ve questioned whether this blog is itself deep or shallow (It aims for deep, but sometimes skims a bit shallower than I’d like). But what is the purpose of the blog but to establish a daily habit of writing and finding things out—things that gradually pull me deeper? Put another way, those stones I’m hopping across in life are documented, one at a time, for anyone that wishes to follow along. But even here, we all choose our own path across that stream of life, we just happen to land on the same spot now and then.

      That terrifying longing? It’s on the other side, and the only way to reach it is to stop watching the debris float by in the stream of distraction and focus on the next landing spot, and the one after that. Our time is short, and we have so far to go. So go deeper.

    • Memorable Moments

      Mingling at a gathering of the vaccinated recently, I got into a conversation with a person of a certain age similar to mine about the art of living. It began with the talk of regional travel and places we’d each been in the northeast—a topic I can get behind—and eventually moved on to what you do when you’re in those random places. And I brought up the one line a day journal and my habit of searching for waterfalls and other such beautiful or historically relevant places nearby. The land whispers, if we only learn to listen. Life is richer when you become a good listener.

      This act of writing one line per day has served me well, and I can stray towards evangelism on the topic when I’m not careful. Not everyone wants to be reminded to find something memorable in their daily lives. In those moments you can either revert back to being a good listener with a few neutral life questions and wait for the coffee to be served or find something interesting to mine from that conversation. Every soul has a story to tell should you listen for it.

      Life is more interesting when you’re a collector of memorable moments. Finding something unique in every waking day is one way to saunter through life with the blinders off. What shall that one line be? Four meetings and chicken for dinner? Or changing into your boots and walking down a snowy gorge to find falling water using minutes brazenly stolen from the ordinary?

      Everyone has their own idea of what makes a moment memorable. It’s our responsibility to ourselves to make something of our time. Why waste it doing the same thing we did yesterday? Make it stand out from the rest in some meaningful way. Small talk at a cocktail party offers its own opportunity to expand beyond the ordinary, if done well.

      It’s entirely possible that I bored my audience to tears at that party. Then again, they might have been inspired to begin their own daily habit of writing down one memorable moment that very day… beginning with an entry about the odd character who inspired a small change before disappearing into the line for coffee, never to be seen again.

    • Visiting the Cascades of Attica

      You’ve got to know when to hold ’em
      Know when to fold ’em
      Know when to walk away
      And know when to run      …

      Every gambler knows
      That the secret to survivin’
      Is knowin’ what to throw away
      And knowin’ what to keep
      ‘Cause every hand’s a winner
      And every hand’s a loser
      And the best that you can hope for
      Is to die in your sleep
      —Kenny Rogers, The Gambler

      When you find a few minutes in your day, googling “waterfalls near me” can net some great micro adventures. Today’s search brought me to a pristine 60 foot waterfall just five minutes down the road from a famous prison that looks like a castle in the cornfields. The waterfall felt like you were in another universe. And it was just where I needed to be between my second and third meetings on a busy day in Upstate New York.

      There are a few web sites that describe the cascades. I found this one helpful for understanding what I was walking into. Private property, three cascades within a few hundred meters of the road, well defined path… got it. Of course, it didn’t mention the slippery layer cake hazard of fresh snow on wet leaves on gooey mud that a visitor in December might confront, but things change and we must adjust to whatever we’re presented with. I attempted to reach the 60 foot plunge from both shores, recognizing both offered potential views but also potential for an untimely end to my time on this earth. There was no one to hear me scream as I slipped down the path, over the cliff and down the ice cold river. So why tempt fate? The secret to survivin’ is knowin’ what to throw away. And knowin’ what to keep.

      But I couldn’t walk away without getting a “close enough” picture. I slipped on the micro spikes, grabbed hold of the rope someone generously left for just such foolhardy acts and made my way down to the top of the falls. Not the dangerous part, mind you, but the part some folks in my life would question my sanity for getting anywhere near. Daring, but not reckless… Hey that’s me!. Maybe someday I’ll be back and conditions will be perfect for a walk downstream and then up the river bed for that classic waterfall shot. This wasn’t that day. But it was still an adventure. If only a small one.

      Cascades from as close as I could safely get
      The other shore was even more daunting

    • Plymouth’s National Monument to the Forefathers

      Plymouth, Massachusetts might not be the oldest European settlement in the United States, but you can safely say it’s where England got its foothold in America. They might have landed in Provincetown first, hit a few places along the Cape Cod coast as they looked for a better place to settle, and maybe they would have been better off if they’d landed in what would become Boston or Providence, but they landed here. And the great floodgates of immigration began, changing this continent forever.

      That narrative of settlement and conquest is… complicated. But you can make a good case that the Mayflower Pilgrims’ pilgrimage was driven by religious freedom and a desire for peaceful coexistence with the Native American population. They happened to settle in a place where the native population had recently been decimated by disease, making for a bit more elbow room to root themselves in the place, but let’s stay on point. That first generation tried to fulfill the mission as best they could.

      To honor those noble intentions, and to put a spotlight on the best virtues that we humans aspire to, the Pilgrim Society of Plymouth conceived of a huge statue that would dominate Plymouth Harbor. The original monument was supposed to be 150 feet tall and right on the water. Reason eventually took over and they moved the monument to the top of a small hill with a commanding view of the harbor, then shortened it to 81 feet.

      The National Monument to the Forefathers is believed to be the tallest granite statue in the world. There is impressive detail in the carvings and a sense of Victorian optimism about what we aspire to be throughout. The cornerstone was laid in 1850 and the monument completed in 1889. That’s a lifetime for someone in the middle of the 19th century. Throw in the Civil War and violent conflict with Native Americans as the country was settled ever westward and those ideals were challenged even as the monument was being built.

      Today the National Monument to the Forefathers stands in dignified silence, 132 years after the dedication ceremony and a year after the 400th anniversary of the settlement of Plymouth by those Mayflower Pilgrims. That big party got cancelled last year with the pandemic, the narrative of living up to the best of virtues is more challenging than ever as we Americans sort out just who we want to be, but the monument stands. Still waiting for us to measure up.

    • Let Me Live Until I Die

      “Lord, let me live until I die.” – Will Rogers

      This is the kind of daily prayer or affirmation I can get behind. Said daily as I open my eyes to a new day. Let me live until I die is a bold stake in the ground to make the most of every moment. And shouldn’t we celebrate the possibility of the new day? What’s the alternative, to dread the commute to work, or the work itself, or what we come home to afterwards? To distract your life with media and alcohol and empty calories? No, thank you! Let me live until I die.

      It’s easy to slip into the dark melancholy of the world. It’s easier to slip than it is to climb. But slipping only leads you to new lows. Far better to climb, as tough as it might seem, to reach new heights and see new vistas. To leap out of bed to see what we might accomplish in this new day seems a far more interesting way to wake up to the world than to hit the snooze button and hide under your pillow.

      Life isn’t easy, we all know that. But the world bows to those who climb to the top, look around and light the way for the rest to see. To be a beacon requires energy and an unquenchable desire to burn brightly. You can’t burn brightly if you’re drowning in misery. Get up and get out there, where the oxygen is. Be fit and passionate and embrace life in a full bear hug.

      To live is to move, to embrace, to laugh, to love, to explore, to learn, to dance, to take a chance and to grow. Get out into the world and make the most of living while we can. I’ll see you out there.

    • Collecting Volumes of Experience

      To gain entry into restaurants in Manhattan in the current state of the pandemic you need to show your vaccination card or a picture of it. Some folks also ask for your ID, which I’m happy to provide. I’d left the card in my hotel room, but fortunately had a photo buried somewhere on my phone. And I eventually found it in the mass of recent pictures – was that San Francisco? Los Angeles? Raleigh? Vermont? It seems I’ve been busy lately.

      During that search I stumbled on a photo of three birds pecking in the South Carolina surf at sunrise. I remember the moment, still less than two weeks ago, but the picture was lost in a crush of other photographs and memories (or is that .jpeg’s and memories now?). It occurred to me that I ought to hit pause again soon. And right on cue Thanksgiving arrives in America next week. More timely, and more different, than ever.

      Life comes at you in waves, and we’re a lot like those birds, waiting for something to chew on with the next one that rolls in. Sometimes you find that where you’ve landed is the perfect place at the perfect time for you. And sometimes you look around and wonder whether you’re on the right beach at all. The answer isn’t always obvious, and the real trick is to keep an eye on that next wave so it doesn’t wash over you.

      I’ve collected thousands of photos of moments like that moment with the birds. Small and large experiences captured in memory, both mine and in some data center in the Cloud. Scrolling through a few hundred photos looking for that picture of my vaccination card reminded me to spend a little less time planning the next landing spot and savor the one you’re immersed in now. It’s not always about finding a better beach, but simply enjoying the one you’re on, and appreciating where you’ve been.

    • Through Fields of Cotton

      Driving through the Carolinas on back country roads in harvest season, you’re struck by the endless miles of ripe cotton greeting you. With many crops, you look at it and wonder what it might be when you’re flying by at 50 MPH. Not so cotton. You know immediately what this crop is. You’ve been wearing it all your life. Ripe cotton waves back at you like a stadium full of home run hankies or laundry lines strung with tighty whities.

      Cotton fields echo. Deep down you know the labor history of this crop, know the historical advancement in picking the stuff from slavery to machinery and all it meant in between. Cotton and tobacco share similar echoes, but cotton reverberates a bit louder. As I understand it the crop was more labor intensive to pick, but also grew exponentially in demand. Cotton was one of the first commercial crops grown by European settlers in America. They grew it in both Florida and at Jamestown, Virginia in the first wave of settlements. The value of cotton in human lives demanded attention, and fueled generations of economic prosperity and more than a little oppression too.

      Driving through field-after-field of cotton you begin to feel the weight of it all, this essential crop for so much of what we wear and use in our daily lives. I wanted to shout to stop the car so I could walk through the fields, feeling the cotton plants (Gossypium) in my own hands. But we kept rolling through, and those endless fields soon felt like clouds rolling by your plane window. And I began to feel like we were flying through history.

      Cotton Firld

    • Pier, 2 Piers

      The Apache Pier in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina and the Oceanside Pier in Oceanside, California share two things in common. They’re the longest piers on the eastern and western coasts of the United States, respectively. And secondly, this writer managed to unwittingly stumble upon both of them with no prior knowledge of their standing in the world of wooden fishing piers.

      The Apache Pier in Myrtle Beach was build in 1994, making it a relative toddler in the world of wooden piers. By comparison, the Oceanside pier was first built in 1888 and subsequently rebuilt several times. Apache reaches out 1,206 feet into the Atlantic Ocean, while Oceanside juts 1,954 into the Pacific Ocean. If you’re wondering, Apache Pier is named for the beachside campground that owns it.

      I’ve written a bit about Oceanside recently. Myrtle Beach is new for me, and it seems like paradise for year-round golfers, with over 100 courses nearby. I’m not much of a golfer, but I appreciate a long, walkable beach in the offseason, and they surely have that in Myrtle Beach. The piers connect two places for me, if only as common ground. Latitude isn’t that far off, Myrtle Beach is at 33.6891° N, while Oceanside is at 33.1959° N. The gulf currents are of course opposite between the coasts, with warmer water reaching up to greet Apache Pier, while Oceanside Pier has cooler waters coming down from Alaska.

      I confess I rarely think about fishing piers. I live in New Hampshire, and we have piers too, but not piers that stick a thousand feet out into the open ocean. So it’s interesting to spend a bit of time with a couple of the big boys in lumber allocation. I may never write about fishing piers again, but I never thoughts I’d have two posts about them already. You just never know where travel and blogging will take you, do you?

      Myrtle Beach and Apache Pier
      Apache Pier
      Apache Pier
      Oceanside Pier

    • Towards Empty Spaces

      “Hiking is not for everyone. Notice the wilderness is mostly empty.” – Sonja Yoerg

      It seems counterintuitive that an otherwise social being would be so quick to seek out solitude and empty spaces. But that’s generally where you’ll find me when the opportunity arises. Let the record show that I love interacting with people. I just don’t want to have them encroaching on me all the time. And so it is that you’ll find me in places others might think of as desolate and wild.

      My favorite destinations have the fewest people in them. You can have your hippest restaurants and trendy neighborhoods, I’ll stick with wide open places, thank you. I’m happy to visit the world’s big cities, I just don’t want to live in them.

      I think nothing of it when I lose cellular coverage. In fact, I celebrate it! To be off the grid is increasingly difficult, and it may one day be impossible. But for now, I dance with my zero bars when I get ‘em.

      If all of this seems like a diatribe against population growth or humanity in general, well, that’s not the point at all. No, this is a celebration of elbow room and quiet hikes in hard to reach places. May we always have them, for I surely can’t be the only one seeking them out.

    • A Bucket List Road Trip in California

      With a respectful nod to the beautiful interior of California, particularly Yosemite, Lake Tahoe and Death Valley, there are few drives that offer the best of California like the stretch of Highway 1 from the Sonoma Coast to San Diego. My own road trip began in San Francisco, north to Bodega Bay and Jenner, over to the vineyards of the Russian River Valley before turning south to the Pacific Coast Highway through Marin, Monterey, Big Sur, Moonstone Beach, Santa Barbara, Los Angeles, Oceanside and finally San Diego before heading back up to Los Angeles for a finale at the Hollywood sign. That trip was roughly 1000 miles and some loose change worth of driving. That’s a lot of windshield time, but it was broken up by 30 miles of walking and some incredible experiences along the way.

      The trip can be thought of as three distinct segments: San Francisco Bay and Sonoma, The Pacific Coast Highway, and the southern tier. Each segment could be a full vacation on their own, in my case, it was ten very full days of travel and adventure. But life is short, you’ve got to pack as much in to your days as possible while still feeling like you relaxed a bit during your time off. Here was the itinerary by segment:

      Day 1: San Francisco coastal walk from Lands End to the Golden Gate Bridge, Irish coffee at the Buena Vista and dinner in Tiburon. There are some nice ferry options from Tiburon that afford great views in good weather but the schedule is limited.

      Day 2: Alcatraz, Fisherman’s Wharf, cable car rides out and back to top of Lombard Street, walk down the zig-zagging Lombard and then walked to the Palace of Fine Arts.

      Day 3: Muir Woods, Bodega Bay to Fort Ross drive along the spectacular Sonoma Coast.

      Day 4: Vineyard tours and tastings in Healdsburg and the Russian River Valley.

      Day 5: Travel day to Marin, beach walk between the crashing surf and the dunes and a visit to the Monterey Aquarium.

      Day 6: The gorgeous 17-Mile Drive with crashing surf from the offshore storms, then down the Pacific Coast Highway through Big Sur to Moonstone Beach. Multiple stops along the way to take in the coastal views and visit a couple of waterfalls.

      Day 7: Drive-by through central coast vineyards, beachside dining in Santa Barbara, Ventura to Los Angeles through miles of orange trees.

      Day 8: Los Angeles!

      Day 9: Oceanside and San Diego Zoo and friends and family time.

      Day 10: Academy Museum of Motion Pictures and a visit to the Chinese Theater and the gritty and touristy Hollywood Boulevard.

      Day 11: Warner Brothers Studio tour and a visit to see the Hollywood sign up close at Lake Hollywood Park.

      Whew! Drove more than 1000 miles and walked almost 30 miles in 11 action-packed days through ancient redwood trees, coastal dunes, spectacular cliffs, iconic city streets, legendary bridges and highways, past famous cultural attractions with a splash of California’s best wines. If you’re looking for an adventurous drive this is one you should plug into your own GPS. Here are a few favorite places found along the way:

      Golden Gate Bridge
      Bixby Creek Bridge
      Russian River Vineyard
      Alcatraz
      Koala at San Diego Zoo
      R2D2 at The Academy Museum of Motion Pictures
      Sea nettles at Monterey Aquarium
      Sunset at Moonstone Beach