Alexandersmap

    Category: Writing

    • Stay in Touch

      I was talking with my bride about a close family member who is slipping into his final days. She wondered if, having outlived many of his friends, his funeral and wake would be well-attended. The most crowded funerals are for the young, aren’t they? Those who die too soon leave behind a mass of people who know who they were in that moment. But what of the old? Are we doomed to live a lonely “too long”, like a character in Eleanor Rigby?

      I don’t believe it to be so. We should keep refreshing our mass of people right to the end. Our ripple is a lifetime obligation of making and maintaining connection. Not for a crowded funeral, but for the ripple that carries on well after the ceremony is a memory. And more, for the ripple that courses through us for having known the people we form relationships with.

      When we lose touch with people, they slip away from our lives. Sometimes this is desired, sometimes life just gets in the way. It’s up to us to stay in touch. Of course, it’s up to them too. The phone works both ways, as they say. But I believe we each ought to lead the charge on such things. Instead of saying the phone works both ways, why not say, if not us, then who? We have agency. If that person we wish to stay connected with opts out, well, we honored our part. And life goes on.

      When I think about people I used to know who are no longer in my life, I think of them just the same whether that person is alive or has passed away. Our time together has ended, but the memories remain. Hopefully there’s enough joy in those memories that we are warmed in our recollection. It’s unfinished business that haunts us, not the good memories. Relationships aren’t meant to be transactional—’tis always best to finish our business before we say goodbye, perhaps for the last time.

      The streak that was this blog being published every day ended earlier this week. Honestly, I didn’t expect to be back so soon with two posts this week. I’ve decided that the streak isn’t what matters to me anymore, it’s having something to say and writing it that matters to me. Like reaching out to an old friend, we have agency over how we approach everything that resonates in our lives. The blog is less a daily ritual to me now than it was when I paused it. Perhaps this and future posts are simply my way to stay in touch.

      We’ll have to see if it ripples.

    • Outcomes

      What fills the void when we remove a habit? We hope to fill the space with better habits. Perhaps our workouts will become better and more consistent. Perhaps we’ll read more than we did before. Perhaps we’ll use that time to be more alive in the world. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps…

      Then again, maybe it wasn’t the habit that was the problem. Maybe it was rest of the time around the habit that was lacking. Maybe it was the feeling of obligations—that something had to be done no matter what. We have enough obligations in our lives. Can’t we just enjoy ourselves? Life isn’t that easy, friend.

      I write for the writing’s sake. I ought to do more of it, but for the day job and the feeling that it isn’t my path to travel. Like so many options that turn into “not for me”, not every whim and desire arrives at an outcome. And maybe that’s as it should be.

      Should I publish this and arrive at one outcome, or is writing it enough? Save as draft or publish? The answer is in the click. Isn’t it interesting how one small action may change an outcome forever? As with all outcomes, it helps to know where it is that we wish to arrive before we act. That fact shouldn’t distract us from realizing that action towards something meaningful was all that ever mattered anyway.

    • The Optimism of a Future Hello

      And in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make.
      —The Beatles, The End

      I’ve always been a streak hitter. I find something that works for me, do it as best I can, and repeat it the next day. Habits are formed, identity is voted upon with action, expectations are set that what was will always be. The world might fall apart, but hey, we are still here, doing this, as we’ve always done. Like lilacs blooming in May, some things are predictable, and surely comforting.

      Writing an average of 400 words per blog post, I push out my thoughts, quote a poem or ramble on about stoic philosophy or the state of the garden. The site itself is a hot mess of bad formatting, but the words are mine. Sometimes I tell myself to fix this thing and make it shine, but really, I like it fine the way it is.

      And every day I tell myself this will be the last post and I’ll take a break. No grand announcement that this is the end, simply an Irish goodbye. To say something meaningful (if only to me) and exit stage left. And perhaps this will be the end, or a pause, or maybe I’ll just pick up right where I left off once again tomorrow. Nomads don’t say goodbye, they say, “until we meet again”. That expression is not an ending, it’s the optimism of a future hello. And doesn’t that feel better than “goodbye”?

    • Do It

      “I am always doing that which I cannot do, in order that I may learn how to do it.” — Pablo Picasso

      We grow into ourselves by stretches and the occasional leap. Now some people leap all the time, and become known as either bold or reckless, depending on how they land. Most of us test the waters a bit, see if it makes sense to move in this new direction, and work our way there gradually. A few never leave the nest at all, choosing familiarity and comfort over reaching for their own potential.

      So what do we do with habits that work for us, when we know that to grow we must break patterns and try new things? Delay? Dabble? Dive right in? We’re each unique in our willingness to try new things by letting familiar old things go.

      I think the moment we ask ourselves if we ought to try something new, we ought to take the first step towards that new. And then the next. Venturing more and more into the unknown to discover something about it and ourselves that we felt was possible all along. As that character Yoda put it, “Do or do not. There is no try.” Learn as we go. Do it.

    • More Hit Than Miss

      “Too much work, and no vacation, Deserves at least a small libation. So hail! my friends, and raise your glasses, Work’s the curse of the drinking classes.” — Oscar Wilde

      Have you been waiting for this blog to be published? I’m not so self-absorbed to believe it so. But I know there are a few folks who confirm I’m still among the living by registering when the blog is released. So here it is, better late than never.

      The day will end, that’s for sure
      I wonder, how do we keep score?
      through projects completed and bonuses racked
      or magic acquired in this time stacked?

      This blog leans more towards poetry the later in the day I begin writing it. Perhaps a sign to keep writing in the earliest hours of the day. Whatever the consensus, I’ve posted one more, such that it is. Perhaps tomorrow will be more hit than miss?

      Cheers.

    • The Steady Ascent

      “The main reason to produce something every day is that you must throw away a lot of good work to reach the good stuff. To let it all go easily, you need to be convinced that there is ‘more where that came from’. You get that in steady production.”
      — Kevin Kelly, Excellent Advice for Living

      Amusement parks may have Lightning Pass lanes, and tourist attractions may have a “Skip the Line” scheme (there’s always a line, it’s just a little shorter), but the work that we produce in a lifetime has no such option. Getting to the good stuff isn’t accomplished without putting in the time.

      Sure, I hear the call of Artificial Intelligence (AI) filling the gap between apprenticeship and mastery. Maybe research and first drafts don’t have to be so tedious. But there are lessons in the grind, and the willing student reaches wisdom not found in AI efficiency.

      The Mona Lisa wasn’t painted in a couple of days. Leonardo da Vinci carried that portrait with him for the rest of his life, adding touches, refining the work, ignoring it and coming back to it. It was never really completed before he passed, it simply reached its final state of being. That state happens to be masterful; A pet project that became the most famous painting in the world.

      Writing every day is sometimes a grind, but it teaches and informs the writer. We may publish regularly or be forever polishing our master work. Unlike our friend da Vinci, we ought to ship our work regularly, that we may move on to something else. The good stuff is earned daily. The great stuff is just over the next rise, awaiting our ascent. If we keep climbing.

    • Call It Inspiration

      “The composer does not sit around and wait for an inspiration to walk up and introduce itself…Making music is actually little else than a matter of invention aided and abetted by emotion. In composing we combine what we know of music with what we feel.” — George Gershwin

      I once wrestled with time. Once I called it time management, and then productivity, and maybe a few other names along the way. The way itself is time, and within it, we produce something or we do not. It was never really time at all, it was how we use our lives. And how we use our lives is who we are, and who we will become, and how we will be remembered one day.

      That’s a lot of wrestling.

      Perhaps that effort is better applied towards discovery. I write every day to discover what will stroll into the room next. We go back and forth a bit, I takes notes as quickly as I can, and the muse exits once again. Who saw that coming? And thanks for the, uh, time.

      Yesterday I finished a delightful book I’d never have read but for the fact that I said yes to it at the exclusion of a lot of great options I said no to. And then I immediately started reading another. The more books we read, the less we’re staring at a screen. That seems like a great trade-off to me. What does that have to do with productivity? Everything. And nothing at all.

      All that we do in our lives is derived from the experiences we make for ourselves. Writing, reading, travel, work, coexisting with these characters in our lives… it all accumulates into something larger than where we began this journey. And growth is where it’s at, friend. We are alive, and life is forever growing into something more than we started as. Just keep heading towards the light, wherever it takes us. Call it inspiration if it helps.

    • Difference Awaits

      “Normality is a paved road: it’s comfortable to walk, but no flowers grow on it.” — Vincent Van Gogh

      What do you dream about? Who knows? Some people seem to remember all of their dreams. For some of us, the world of dreams is slammed shut upon waking. Is there a metaphor in there somewhere about waking up to finally begin living one’s dreams? Wouldn’t that be the obvious path to take right about now?

      My own dreams, such that they are, usually end with me waking up trying to figure a way out of some maze I’d wandered into, or to find a solution to some problem that doesn’t exist in reality. Ah, you dream interpreters, there’s nothing to see here! We’re all figuring things out as we go. Every day is a winding road.

      We may choose to wander off the beaten path any time we want to, for it’s our story to write. That beaten path laying up ahead is beaten for a reason. It’s tried and true, and won’t make our mothers lie awake at night in worry. Taking the road less traveled makes all the difference, right? Ask a poet:

      Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
      I took the one less traveled by,
      And that has made all the difference.
      — Robert Frost, The Road Not Taken

      The thing is, most of us aren’t choosing poetry or painting as a career path. We’re figuring things out as we go, not wandering off into the wilderness. Maybe that means fewer flowers, but it also helps pay the mortgage. And so paths less traveled by remain in our dreams.

      Then again, we may opt to stray further and further from the beaten path each day, returning to pay the bills and such, but building those wandering muscles and stretching our inclinations in new directions. Our path is simply where we are heading at the moment. Perhaps it’s paved, perhaps it’s full of wildflowers or thistle or perilous beasts that make us break into a cold sweat for the terror of it all.

      Fear not! Our path is meant to be figured out. Like an Andy Weir novel, there’s always a way out of the maze. We just need to wake up to see it. And having seen it, to take that path to where difference awaits.

    • Coffee Collaboration

      “As soon as coffee is in your stomach, there is a general commotion. Ideas begin to move…similes arise, the paper is covered. Coffee is your ally and writing ceases to be a struggle.”
      — Honoré de Balzac, The Pleasures and Pains of Coffee

      May I take a moment to dwell on the mug of coffee recently departed from this world? Now, the typical time to dwell on coffee is while it is still with you, but mine seemingly evaporated before my eyes. One moment I’m having my first sip, the next? Empty cuppa. Our time is fleeting, isn’t it? Surely a reminder to slow down, stop rushing through life and savor what we have in the moment. Sure. This is coffee, and coffee demands we get going already.

      My morning ritual is two glasses of water while the coffee is brewing, then two cups of coffee while writing. I might get away with one cup of coffee if I were to tolerate room-temperature coffee (or, god forbid, microwaving coffee to reheat it). Alas, I don’t tolerate such things, I savor the first few sips, and guzzle the last few. ’tis not the writing that distracts from the drinking of coffee, ’tis the coffee that lubricates the ritual. One without the other would be possible, but not delightful. Don’t we need to dance with more delight in this life?

      The thing is, we each have our rituals that make our days shine a little brighter, make us more productive in our pursuits, and make us more aware and alive. Writing and coffee go together well, but so do reading and coffee, or catching up with a fellow life-traveler and coffee, or any number of things. Coffee isn’t selective in the habit you pair it with, it goes with the flow. And doesn’t that make it the perfect partner to collaborate with?

    • The Exact Shape

      Why Bother?

      Because right now, there is someone

      out there with

      a wound in the exact shape

      of your words.

      — Sean Thomas Dougherty

      Writing every day has a way of locking us into routine. This is a blessing and a curse, I think, for it produces something tangible while also making us more rigid in our thinking. Discipline has a price, like every other pursuit does. We are always saying no to something for every yes.

      I wish I’d written the poem that kicks off today’s blog, but then again, for all the poetry I read, I rarely attempt to write it myself. I’ve settled into a way of writing where wondrous brevity isn’t as natural. I stray more towards Thoreau’s process of choking the reader with words. I must remind myself to… breathe.

      Space and time are as essential in communication as the words themselves.

      Which makes me wonder…

      If publishing every day

      is the answer.

      Or if the words need

      a little more room

      to grow.

      Exactly what shape

      should these words

      take?