Alexandersmap

    Category: Travel

    • Open to the Unpredictable

      “The secret of adventure, then, is not to carefully seek it out but to travel in such a way that it finds you. To do this, you first need to overcome the protective habits of home and open yourself up to unpredictability. As you begin to practice this openness, you’ll quickly discover adventure in the simple reality of a world that defies your expectations. More often than not, you’ll discover that “adventure” is a decision after the fact—a way of deciphering an event or an experience that you can’t quite explain.” — Rolf Potts, Vagabonding

      Inevitably I awaken well before my alarm goes off, and I believe it to be because I rarely set an alarm anymore. It’s saved for early flights and precious little else. As such, my mind is wrapped around the process of travel instead of deep, restful sleep. Did I pack everything? How does traffic look today? What’s the weather at my destination and have I properly prepared for it? Such is the restlessness of a traveler’s mind.

      This idea of being properly prepared is a form of control. We don’t control all that much when we travel, other than our own actions. A series of random events can turn an itinerary upside down in the blink of an eye. And so we create contingencies and build extra time in to ensure we don’t miss the trains, planes and automobiles that bring us from here to there and back again.

      As we open ourselves up to encounters with the unexpected, we face the very things we can’t always be prepared for. Adapting to the challenges we face builds resilience and a higher level of worldliness than we had before. As we become more worldly we condition ourselves for the unexpected.

      Louis Pasteur said that “fortune favors the prepared mind”. When we feel ready for the unexpected we become more open to receiving it when it arrives. Openness is a developed skill as much as it is a mindset. So as I rose to meet the day, I took comfort in the preparation that would carry me through the host of unexpected that will surely greet me.

    • Doing If You Want To‘s

      “If you want to be a poet, write poetry. Every day. Show us your work.
      If you want to do improv, start a troupe. Don’t wait to get picked.
      If you want to help animals, don’t wait for vet school. Volunteer at an animal shelter right now.
      If you want to write a screenplay, write a screenplay.
      If you want to do marketing, find a good cause and spread the idea. Don’t ask first.
      If you’d like to be more strategic or human or caring at your job, don’t wait for the boss to ask.
      Once we leave out the “and” (as in, I want to do this and be well paid, invited, approved of and always successful) then it’s way easier to.”
      — Seth Godin, Are you doing what you said you wanted to do?

      Well, if you want to sing out, sing out
      And if you want to be free, be free
      ‘Cause there’s a million things to be
      You know that there are
      — Cat Stevens (Yusuf Islam), If You Want to Sing Out, Sing Out

      We complicate things with the stories we tell ourselves. We envision what a writer ought to look like, or an actor or leader or whatever we aspire to be. Instead of just slipping on the role for size and doing it. Just do it, as Nike famously coopted as their slogan. How many do just that? Don’t let it slip away, do some version of it now and grow into the rest.

      I write this blog fancying myself a writer. I wear plenty of other hats as well, so I try to write before the world wakes up and tells me I’m supposed to be something else now. Most of the time I give the world what it wants of me, but for a little time every day I simply write. If the posts are late in the day or seem a bit compressed and scattered, it’s usually a sign that I was running late, compressed and scattered myself. But I still put it out there as a humble statement that yes, I do in fact write.

      There’s a million things to be, you know that there are, but there’s usually a very short list of things you simply have to be to feel you’re on the right path. Doing those if you want to’s is the only way to feel like the world isn’t passing you by. Most of the universe barely recognizes that Seth Godin or Yusuf Islam put out similar statements, let alone me, but each of us knows that we showed up and shipped the work. We each grow into our identity with the things we do now. Sometimes that’s enough.

    • The Shift From Intelligence to Wisdom

      “When you are young, you have raw smarts; when you are old, you have wisdom. When you are young, you can generate lots of facts; when you are old, you know what they mean and how to use them…. if you can repurpose your professional life to rely more on crystallized intelligence—your peak will come later but your decline will happen much, much later, if ever.” — Arthur C. Brooks, From Strength to Strength

      Raymond Cattell theorized that we have two kinds of intelligence: fluid intelligence, which includes problem solving, reasoning and logic, and crystallized intelligence, which is the wisdom to draw upon our accumulated knowledge and derive what to make if it all. If fluid intelligence is exhibited by start-up hustle and eager undergraduate students devouring information, crystallized intelligence is more the consultant swooping in to help a business define their why, or a professor guiding those undergrads towards enlightenment.

      In my career, I’ve been the eager hustler trying to do as much as I could in the world, and I’ve become the person trying to make sense of it all. It’s probably no coincidence that I began this blog when I reached some measure of crystallized intelligence. Surely it would be nothing but fish and chips reviews (ie: discovery) were I still in that fluid intelligence stage. Ten years ago I was still taking exams to add certification credentials to my resume. I wouldn’t dream of playing that game today. Does that make me an old dog unwilling to learn new tricks, or someone who realizes my best game isn’t about that particular trick?

      The thing is, we can still be eager students of life at any age. We can seek wisdom when we’re young and solve problems when we grow old, but it helps greatly to optimize our lives around our strengths in the phase of life we find ourselves in. To be useful and productive means something different at 25, 50 and 75. we ought to dance with our strengths and mitigate the impact of the absence of those strengths we haven’t arrived at yet, or have faded as we change.

      Brooks’ premise is that achievers often fight the natural decline in fluid intelligence instead of embracing the accumulated wisdom and potential of crystallized intelligence. This leads to frustration at best and bitterness at seeing the world pass us by at worst. The answer seems to be finding a groove that matches the music playing on our particular playlist, and dance with that. The tune changes as we change, but it’s music just the same.

    • Isle au Haut: A Billion Stars and Pristine Trails

      “This whole earth which we inhabit is but a point in space. How far apart, think you, dwell the two most distant inhabitants of yonder star, the breadth of whose disk cannot be appreciated by our instruments? Why should I feel lonely? Is not our planet in the Milky Way?” — Henry David Thoreau, Walden

      Anchored in a quiet cove, boat rolling steadily (and indicating why we were alone in this place), we stepped out into a brilliant sky to bear witness to a billion stars. The Milky Way so bright it reflected off the water. This was what we’d hoped for, yet almost missed fleeing mosquitoes earlier in the evening. We were not so alone after all.

      The thing about sailing that is so attractive is your ability to place yourself in places like this, nudged up against a corner of Acadia National Park that few ever venture to. There are no buses or fifth wheel camp trailers on Isle au Haut. Those are fine people too, just more than I seek out when getting away from it all. Here you find the quiet bliss inferred in the very concept of a nature preserve.

      Spending a bit of time on the main stretch (where the road is actually paved), we found the locals friendly and the ice cream sandwiches tasty, but I couldn’t buy a stamp for my postcard after 11 AM. Isle au Haut has what must be one of the nation’s smallest Post Offices. If you want counter service get there early. So it goes. The stamp will have to wait.

      The hiking trails are mostly well-defined here, and in some boggy corners nature’s winning the battle to reclaim them. They say build it and they will come, and surely we do, but not so many that you ever feel you can’t get some solitude. We saw precious few fellow hikers, despite the delightful trail network. This naturally continued out at the anchorage. Precious few fellow sailboats. There is plenty of elbow room on Isle au Haut. May it always be this way.

      Isle au Haut Lighthouse (1907)

    • Two Bush Island

      Maine has 4000 islands, which means some names repeat, while other names stand out for their charming descriptiveness. Two Bush Island is one of those latter names. And coming across them inspires even more wanderlust. You simply want to explore a place like this.

      We saved our wandering for Isle au Haut (surely a future blog post), But I was left wondering about the fanciful, perhaps practical name of this tiny island. As we sailed we tossed around all kinds of possibilities, being a lighthouse station and all, but the answer was as Maine Yankee practical as we originally thought. Here is the official version of where it got the name: “The island was named by local fisherman for two large pine trees which inhabited the island and served as navigational daymarkers before the station was built. Two Bush Island Light Station was established in 1897 to mark the southwestern entrance to Two Bush Channel in Penobscot Bay”.

      That link above also offers a wonderful story of the lighthouse keeper’s dog being involved in a rescue. The dog’s name was “Smut”. One night he heard two men trying to row their dory to safety and Smut started barking at them, luring them towards the island and safety. Sure, smut can be the ruin of many a sailor, but this story clearly demonstrates that sometimes Smut can save the day.

      Two Bush Island

    • Sunrise, Tenants Harbor

      Tenants Harbor, a village in the town of St. George, Maine, was once full of schooners in various stages of construction. It retains that working harbor feel today, but today it’s lobster boats that fuel the economy. This is very obvious at sunrise, as the boats ply the waters to haul up traps to harvest any lobsters unlucky enough to have taken the bait. The lobsters will be gobbled up all over the world, and especially in restaurants and seafood shacks throughout coastal Maine. So it goes.

      Still, some of us seek a respite from work in places like this. I’ve gently placed my obligations and commitments to the side in favor of rest and relaxation for a few days. There are 4000 islands in Maine and they say 3,478 miles of tidal coastline. Along that coastline there are seals, dolphins, loons and whales. Other than writing a bit, this particular time bucket will lean into exploring some of that coastline.

      Anchors aweigh.

    • ChatGPT (as?) Me

      ChatGPT can be seen as a tool to enhance productivity or to accelerate the end of days. The optimist in me sees the potential in Artificial Intelligence (AI). As with any technology, it’s people who weaponize it. The moment you can create a nuclear weapon out of household goods is the day we all should contemplate the afterlife. Assuming controls are in place, we might actually find value in AI. Then again, it might just steal all of our jobs. As a creative type, I have to admit to being both delighted and humbled by the speed and accuracy of ChatGPT when I started using it.

      Consider my chat, “summarize War and Peace in one paragraph”:

      “War and Peace” is a classic novel by Leo Tolstoy, set in 19th-century Russia during the Napoleonic era. The epic story revolves around the lives of five aristocratic families and their experiences during times of war and peace. It delves into themes of love, ambition, fate, and the human condition. The narrative masterfully interweaves the personal journeys of its characters, showcasing the effects of war on society and individuals, while also exploring profound philosophical reflections on life and historical events. The novel’s vast scope and intricate character development make it a timeless exploration of the human spirit, offering profound insights into the complexities of human relationships, the consequences of our actions, and the pursuit of personal and societal meaning.

      Now consider something far more personal for me, “summarize the content of alexandersmap.com in one paragraph”:

      “Live with intention, embrace the journey, and seek a deep connection with the world around you. Be curious, explore new places, and appreciate the beauty of nature. Cultivate gratitude for the small moments and cherish the relationships with loved ones. Embrace challenges as opportunities for growth, and find balance between work, leisure, and reflection. Understand that life is a continuous learning process, and wisdom comes from experiences, failures, and self-awareness. Strive to leave a positive impact on others and the planet, fostering a sense of community and global consciousness. Ultimately, find purpose in living authentically, mindfully, and with a sense of wonder, making the most of every moment on this extraordinary journey through life.”

      Wow. Lovely summary, and great advice! But it raises a serious question: Why go on writing? If AI can tap into everything we’ve ever done and write in our style, why should we create anything at all? Well, because we are each processing our own data aren’t we? Life is a string of days figuring things out at our own pace, and writing offers a way to create something beyond ourselves. We ought to continue writing our own verse, not just in spite of it all, but because the ripple matters. ChatGPT didn’t create my words, it summarized them from an admittedly modest ripple across the Internet. Somewhere within there is my contribution. Somewhere in there is me.

      In the context of infinity none of this matters a great deal anyway, but it matters just enough to keep at it. We aren’t nihilists, we’re artists. Art is an expression of something profoundly unique deep within us. Maybe AI can mine a large enough sample size to offer a close-enough copy, but it’s still nothing but a derivative of the original work. So keep doing the work.

    • Then Agains

      “Mortality makes it impossible to ignore the absurdity of living solely for the future.”
      ― Oliver Burkeman, Four Thousand Weeks: Time Management for Mortals

      “We’ve been granted the mental capacities to make almost infinitely ambitious plans, yet practically no time at all to put them into action.”
      ― Oliver Burkeman, Four Thousand Weeks: Time Management for Mortals

      “We all have at least the potential to make more money in the future, we can never go back and recapture time that is now gone. So it makes no sense to let opportunities pass us by for fear of squandering our money. Squandering our lives should be a much greater worry.”
      ― Bill Perkins, Die with Zero: Getting All You Can from Your Money and Your Life

      This blog may feel like a one hit wonder, dancing around the twin themes of memento mori and carpe diem. This is a reminder to myself, blogging steadily along through the living years, to “not squander Time; for that’s the Stuff Life is made of” (as Ben Franklin put it). Stuffing a blog post chock full of quotes is no way to write though, is it? ChatGBT could probably summarize all of my posts into one grand idea, and perhaps one day soon I’ll accept that challenge. But for now you’ve got the single content of a guy finding his way in the world, just as you are and everyone else is, even those people who say they have it all figured out (don’t ever believe them).

      I’m pondering that elusive re-design of the blog, finally implementing the things I’d envisioned all along, finally re-introducing email subscriptions and a more elegant reader experience. Then again, I’m pondering finally pulling that novel out of forever draft form and doing something with it (the Muse gave up on this project long ago). Then again, I’m thinking about doubling down on work and really making the next five years something special. And then again, I’m thinking about just renting a cabin in a remote corner of Labrador and watching the Northern Lights all winter (at least until the polar bears eat me). Such is the thing with then agains: they keep on coming up.

      Then again, and at the very least, fill this particular time bucket with the stuff that makes the most sense for now. Make something special out of the work that resonates for you, or get off your complacent behind and go find work that feels special. Then again, go use the body your blessed with in this moment for all that you can get out of it. If we’re lucky our minds will be with us until the end, but our health could go at any 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

      This is the season. It’s not or never for some of those essential experiences. Go dance with life, and make it a song you really love. I’ll do the same. Carpe diem and all that. Let me remind myself and you if you care to listen: some day we’ll run out of thens, so once again, seize the day.

    • There is a Season

      “You’re alive only once, as far as we know, and what could be worse than getting to the end of your life and realizing you hadn’t lived it?” — Edward Albee

      “To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven” — Ecclesiastes 3:1-8

      Sometimes we find ourselves stressed out and distracted when we’re pushing through activity for which the season is wrong. Sometimes this is out of our control, and often it’s just us doing more than we ought to be doing in the moment. It would be helpful to remind ourselves that everything has its time. Even when we don’t want to hear it.

      The idea of distinct time buckets isn’t new, it’s just another way of describing seasons of our lives. They were talking about this thousands of years ago too. We live in a world where we want it all now, and surely technology enables us to achieve far more than we might have in the past. But there’s still truth in the words.

      So how do we reconcile the urgency in Albee’s words with the reality of not being able to do everything at once? Find the season for the activities that matter, and forget the things we’ll never get to. Easier said than done, perhaps, but the only way to savor the season we’re in.

      We must be present in this place and season in which we find ourselves, do the work to make the most of this time, and position ourselves for the brightest possible future. We can’t take it with us, but we can plan for the best time to dance with life. The saddest people on earth are those who realize that they didn’t seize the moment in a season that has passed them by. We must prioritize for regret minimization as much as future security. Embrace moments with the people, places and purpose that align best with the season we’re in, and position ourselves to optimize experiences in their best season in our life to come.

    • A Walk Around the Timeless Kenoza Lake

      Kenoza! O’er no sweeter lake
      Shall morning break, or moon-cloud sail,
      No lighter wave than thine shall take
      The sunset’s golden veil.
      — John Greenleaf Whittier, Kenoza

      Whittier wrote this poem for the dedication for a beautiful lake in Haverhill, Massachusetts that was to be named Kenoza Lake. Kenoza means “lake of the pickerel” in the native Algonquian language, and in 1859 the locals formalized the name. There is irony in Native American place names living on when the people who’s language was being used for those names were swept away, but that’s everywhere in the world. The names always betray the past if you dig deeply enough.

      Whittier was an abolitionist, and likely saw the plight of the Native Americans who once lived here with a sympathetic eye. He once lived just a couple of miles away from Kenoza Lake in a quiet farmhouse. His farm looks very much the same today as it did then. Importantly, Kenoza itself also remains pristine, today a protected reservoir that supplies drinking water to the City of Haverhill. That lends a timelessness to the lake and surrounding land that’s impossible not to feel as you walk the grounds.

      The land has transformed over time. It was once deep forest, became farmland (like so much of America in colonial times) and eventually returned to forest again. That the land wasn’t developed required some luck. Dr. James R. Nichols, a wealthy scientist who made his fortune developing chemical fertilizers, acquired the farmland and set about building a castle for himself on top of a hill with views of three states. He called the place “Winnekenni”, which means “very beautiful” in Algonquian. Walking the property, today maintained by the City of Haverhill as parkland and a natural buffer for the reservoir, feels like you’ve been transported back to another time.

      There is a network of trails throughout the the park, and you can manage a great step count by doing the entire loop around the lake. They range from gravel roads to single track paths squeezed on both sides by abundant undergrowth(including, alas, poison ivy). The trails are well-marked and it’s very difficult to get lost, as you always have the lake to show you your progress. We encountered plenty of walkers, horseback riders and mountain bikers on the trek around the lake, but never felt it was overcrowded. Indeed, on the single track we saw only one other person, a trail runner who quickly distanced himself from us.

      Reservoirs, like graveyards, are time machines back to the days they were established. The lay of the land remains largely as it was then, and offers an opportunity to hear the whispers of history. It’s relatively easy to imagine how this place looked for Dr. Nichols or John Greenleaf Whittier because it’s largely that same place today: timeless, and beautiful.

      Kenoza Lake
      Winnekenni Castle
      The lake is almost always in view
      Local resident
      Very large Bondarzewiaceae fungi enjoying the wet summer
      Single track trail
      One of several memorials in the park