Alexandersmap

    Category: Writing

    • We Become the Sum

      “What strikes me is the fact that in our society, art has become something which is related only to objects and not to individuals, or to life. That art is something which is specialized or which is done by experts who are artists. But couldn’t everyone’s life become a work of art? Why should the lamp or the house be an art object, but not our life?” — Michel Foucault

      Walking the pup yesterday during a snowstorm, I considered turning back to slip on micro spikes. Fluffy snow over ice is never a good recipe for reliable footing. Instead I shortened my stride and the leash so the dog wouldn’t pull me down in her snowy exuberance. Some life lessons are learned from a sore backside.

      We know that we are works in progress, but sometimes get frustrated with the pace of that progress. It’s okay to paint over our mistakes now and then. It’s better to make them anyway, if only to learn which paths are not ours to take, if only to not have possibilities haunting us for not having tried them at all. As Nietzsche reminded us, that which doesn’t kill us makes us stronger. In this way, we may consider each day a lesson in how to live.

      The pup and I have a loop that covers the same ground twice to get us to the desired distance. Double the distance and we’re doubling the frequency of times covering the same ground. Which is noticeable when it’s snowing out and we’re leaving foot and paw prints behind us. In this way, each loop revealed the previous ground we’d covered, but our steps never exactly repeated themselves. Our strides changed with the conditions, we were pulled towards some curiosity just a nose below the snow, a car passed by that changed our path or some such thing. As the snow accumulated, the oldest footprints faded more and more into the layers building up on top of them. Each loop was the same, yet completely different. So too are our days.

      Our canvas transforms with every stroke of the brush. Each offers lessons on where to go next. Each fades further into the background with the addition of yet another. But here lies depth and progress. The richness of life is found not just in the changes we make to our days, but in the rituals that anchor them. It all builds upon itself to form the work of art that is our life. In this way, we become the sum.

    • And Now We Rise

      A day once dawned, and it was beautiful
      A day once dawned from the ground
      Then the night she fell
      And the air was beautiful
      The night she fell all around
      So look, see the days
      The endless coloured ways
      Go play the game that you learnt
      From the morning
      And now we rise
      And we are everywhere
      And now we rise from the ground
      And see she flies
      She is everywhere
      See she flies all around
      So look, see the sights
      The endless summer nights
      And go play the game that you learnt
      From the mornin’
      — Nick Drake, From the Morning

      I’m told that Nick Drake’s family had the two lines from this song, “Now we rise and we are everywhere” engraved on his gravestone (a simple Google search verifies this). Could there be a more beautiful choice of words to mark a life? Nick Drake’s career rose quietly, posthumously, and is now everywhere (should we listen for it). Our work outlives us, doesn’t it? So it follows that we ought to put our very best into the work that matters most.

      We are creative beings, putting our dent in the universe, such that it is, before we fade away into eternity. Knowing this, we ought to rise up to meet the work as best we can, to put something of ourselves into it that makes it uniquely ours. And then to let it fly, to find its own way in the world like a moth rising to meet the light. Most everything is consumed and disappears, but some work might just break through and go everywhere.

      I think sometimes, is this blog enough? The question betrays the answer. There is far more to do. We put our best hours into other things, knowing that the days flow into nights and begin again and again. And we only have so long to play this game.

    • 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

    • The Slow and Difficult Trick of Living

      It isn’t very far as highways lie.
      I might be back by nightfall, having seen
      The rough pines, and the stones, and the clear water.
      Friends argue that I might be wiser for it.
      They do not hear that far-off Yankee whisper:
      How dull we grow from hurrying here and there!

      Many have gone, and think me half a fool.
      To miss a day away in the cool country.
      Maybe. But in a book I read and cherish,
      Going to Walden is not so easy a thing
      As a green visit. It is the slow and difficult
      Trick of living, and finding it where you are.
      — Mary Oliver, Going to Walden

      It isn’t very far at all for me to visit Walden. I could be there in about an hour, accounting for rush hour traffic in that general direction. I’ve gone there before, just to be there on some random Tuesday or Wednesday or whatnot. While others worked I would play hooky for an hour or two, just to see the water, just to feel like Thoreau in the interlude between responsibilities. Inevitably I’d return better for having been there. Some might argue that my nose to the grindstone for those couple of hours would have been a better use of the time. Let them think what they want. We’re all different people, aren’t we?

      I can feel that it’s almost time to re-read Walden again, just as I felt today it was time to revisit Mary Oliver. There are other voices beyond the hustle culture that ought to be listened to. There are other ways to spend our precious time. The trick to living is awareness and presence in the invaluable now. To learn and grow and become at a pace that we can maintain for the long haul, even as we know that the time slips away so very quickly.

      You won’t find me at Walden today. I assure you it will be just fine without me. For a Monday I ought to be in more of a rush somewhere, but what is on the other side of that hustle? Just what do we arrive at when we go from here to there anyway? Maybe that’s why I keep writing—to remind myself to be aware of the time going by, or to simply remind myself to cherish the view along the way. To be here, now feels like more than enough. Why would we ever rush away from it?

    • Habit-Forming

      “I am playing the long game. I am inculcating habit. I am deepening my practice and my commitment, day by day, day after day. I’m training myself and reinforcing myself every day.” — Stephen Pressfield

      All of this writing builds on the reading and living that led to it. Each day reminds us that we have a long way to go still. May our timeline meet our lofty goals.

      Habits develop simply, but they form our identity by becoming embedded within our being. I may say I’m an early riser or an avid reader or possibly a little better than the average as a writer, but I believe these things to be true because I do each every single day. What completes us? I believe it is that which we wrap around ourselves—our relationships, rituals, routines and yes, our beliefs.

      So we are either delusional or devoted to our craft of identity-building. We may feel that we’re on the right path but sense that our pace is all wrong. To ask where we’re going with all of this is essential, because the path lasts a lifetime and it grows shorter by the day. So just where is all this habit-forming taking us?

    • 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.

    • Expression

      The reason we’re alive
      is to express ourselves in the world.
      And creating art may be the most
      effective and beautiful method of doing so.

      Art goes beyond language, beyond lives.
      It’s a universal way to send messages
      between each other and through time.
      — Rick Rubin, The Creative Act: A Way of Being

      Walk through a museum and inevitably some work calls to us from across the room. We’re drawn in, connecting to the human who created it who may live next door or lived a thousand years ago on the other side of the world. Human connection through art, literature and poetry, music, photography, architecture and engineering or really any expression that is mined deep within and brought to the world binds us now and through time. Artistic expression is thus a time machine.

      It follows that one who makes art may wonder whether their particular expression is enough. Sure, it’s our verse, but why are we making this and not something else? Why do I write a blog post every bloody day, no matter what? Why does a hiker I know spend every free moment redlining the trails of New Hampshire? Why choose a certain career path over another, potentially more profitable career path? We do it because something within us demands that we do it. Each pursuit fulfills something within, making us whole. And in turn we express that outwardly as part of our identity. This is who we are, doing this, at this moment in time. We are trading our precious time to express this pursuit, but feel more alive for having chosen it.

      Throughout life we acquire skills, develop muscle memory, navigate triumph and tragedy, age and learn and grow through the years that we’re given. All of that changes our perspective about what it is to be a human being. If we choose wisely we maximize our experiences along the way, and if we aren’t wise with our time we accumulate regrets for not doing certain things in the time we were given for it. Our reward is perspective. We grow as people and as artists to the level that we open to the experiences of a lifetime.

      The work that we produce is a time stamp of our experiences, created one after the other, indicating who we were when it was created. Our lens of now is forever altering our perspective, and thus alters our expression. When we think back on the person we were ten years ago, do we smile or shudder? The work that we produced, the routine we built our life around at the time, the people we surrounded ourselves with, all brought us here, to this place and time, where we may express ourselves yet again with this newfound perspective. Expression is a gift of our time and perspective to those who choose to use their time to connect with it (and in that connection perhaps alter their own perspective). We owe it to ourselves and our audience to draw out the best we can in the moment.

    • There Was Happiness

      “And will I tell you that these three lived happily ever after? I will not, for no one ever does. But there was happiness. And they did live.” ― Stephen King , The Dark Tower

      Did you watch Stranger Things? Did you care about it at all? The answer to both of those questions was yes for me. Not the emphatic yes! of a super fan, but most certainly a yes. Like Game of Thrones and a few other select shows, it grabbed many people and wouldn’t let go. And the ending was about as good as it could have been. So bravo to the entire crew that put it together, beginning with the Duffer brothers.

      So many stories try to end perfectly, with all the answers sown up neatly to satisfy everyone. Life isn’t so tidy. Sunshine and roses may please the masses as the credits roll or we close the book, but we all return to the reality of life in all its complexity. There are no happily ever afters, but there will be happiness. And that may just be enough. We are as happy as what we choose to focus on in our lives. Mostly it’s mindset that determines our outcomes.

      We simply cannot have all the answers to our questions. Life is full of contradictions. It’s unfair yet seeks balance, complicated yet simple, and of course joyful and devastatingly tragic all at once. No storybook endings, but an end with many questions. We learn and grow and do the best we can along the way. Maybe that’s not enough, or maybe it is everything.

      It may help to remember that every ending is a new beginning. We wake up to a new day and have a choice as to how we react to it. If we hated how yesterday ended, we may write a better story today. If we loved it, build on it. The only way to live is to rise to meet each day as best we can, having learned from the last one. It was never about a happily ever after, it was about rising to meet the future one day at a time.

    • Dreams, Friends and Beginnings

      The sun was in his bathing suit,
      the moon in her pajamas.
      They played all day
      until the two
      were called in by their mamas.

      The sun went home and climbed in bed,
      his mama sang a tune,
      and soon the sun
      was fast asleep
      and dreaming of the moon.

      The moon decided not to go;
      instead she stayed outside.
      She danced and played
      and laughed and sang
      and stayed awake all night.

      When morning came the sun arose
      and went outside to play,
      but could not find
      his friend the moon,
      who slept inside all day.

      So now these two are best of friends,
      apart in dark and light.
      The sun turns in
      at evenfall —
      the moon stays out all night.

      The shining moon sees no sunlight,
      the sun sees no moonbeams,
      but when they each
      are fast asleep
      they’re in each other’s dreams.
      — Kenn Nesbitt, The Tale of the Sun and the Moon

      The ringing of the New Year necessitates staying up late. We early birds struggle, and must choose whether to sleep in or begin the New Year with a decent night’s sleep. The alternative is to simply go to bed early like it was any other night of the year. Whatever the choice, we often resolve to make changes to our routine going forward. Forever improving, forever seeking better things for our selves, forever optimizing. Such is the curse of the modern soul.

      I begin the year with a poem that delights me to read. Does it offer a hint of what’s to come? Perhaps, but sometimes simply finding things that delight us is enough for any given day. Why not kick off an entire year with a bit of magic, a bit of wonder, a bit of delight? We have tomorrow to be stoically focused on productivity and key performance indicators and such things that sound awful to mentioned when we began with friends and dreams. Can we resolve to simply live joyfully aware of the blessings around us?

      I will write more this year, I can feel that it’s all still there within me, bursting at the seams, awaiting release to fly away in fully-formed verse. The words keep coming to me—more sometimes than a blog post can contain. Time will tell whether dreams come true or if they simply fade into memory, like old friends we don’t see anymore but we smile when thinking about. To embark on a New Year is either an adventure or simply another day on a limited timeline. Isn’t it up to us to decide which it will be?

    • Part of Us

      George Malley: You know, if we were to put this apple down, and leave it, it would be spoiled and gone in a few days. But, if we were to take a bite of it like this,
      [bites apple]
      George Malley: it would become part of us, and we could take it with us, forever.
      [offers the apple to Glory, who takes a bite. Al refuses]
      George Malley: Al, everything is on its way to somewhere. Everything.
      — Gerald DiPego, scene from the movie Phenomenon

      The last few days of the year are meant for reflection of what has been, blended with anticipation for what may be in the New Year. The places we go to, the books we’ve read, the things we’ve done or not done all accumulate and become our identity. We are here because of all of that, layered into who we are. It’s all a part of us, carried for our evermore.

      Reflecting on what we’ve added to our identity, what we’ve subtracted from it, leads one naturally to consideration of what one might add to our identity going forward. Just who do we want to become next anyway? What, like that apple George Malley bit into, will become a part of us forever and always? We ought to make it the juiciest and most delicious apple we can find.

      We are all on our way somewhere. Forever accumulating, subtracting, showcasing or burying deep within. Life is what we carry, but also what we build from the blocks we’ve gathered together in our lives. Want a more magical life? Gather bits of magic and make something of them (those magical bits are everywhere when we train ourselves to be aware of them).

      What will tomorrow bring? Who knows? But eternity will surely show its indifference to our plans either way. This is our verse to write, beginning forever today. What in the world are we waiting for? Take a bite already.

      Happy New Year!