Alexandersmap

    Category: Writing

    • Do Hard Things

      “All great and precious things are lonely.” — John Steinbeck

      Do hard things. This must be our mindset if we are to move forward on our journey to personal excellence (Arete). Opting for easy is a path to average. We’ve all been on that path enough already and know where it leads. It may be comfortable for a long time, but it doesn’t satiate a restless soul. We must learn and grow and become what we decided to be in the time we have while managing the circumstances we’re allotted. There is always a reason not to be bold.

      What is great and precious? We know it when we imagine it for ourselves. Finishing a marathon or writing a novel may be great and precious, but each comes with a heavy price in time and effort (writing anything using an AI hack is not great nor precious, it’s inherently average). We must learn to do the work, and learn to be lonely in the work. It’s the price of greatness that must be paid out every day.

      This summer I’ve had many excuses to just stay the course on my previous fitness lifestyle. Walk a bit, row occasionally, ease off of the carbohydrates and drink in moderation. Those lifestyle choices brought me to where I was back in June when I pivoted into a mental toughness program to blow up the old routine and begin anew. Today is the last day of that program, but not really. Once we strengthen our resolve to do hard things, we begin to look for more hard things to do beyond where we’ve arrived.

      What is lonely about pursing personal excellence? It’s the jabs from friends and family when we say no to what we once said yes to. It’s setting off on a workout or stepping away to write or read or otherwise do the work that must be done instead of having a beer and talking about the state of the world. Early on, when our new habits are young and fragile, it takes an “F you” attitude to overcome the doubts and casual pressure to just make an exception this one time. Mental toughness is developed in the trenches of mind games within our trusted and well-meaning circle of influence.

      The thing is, 75 hard was never a fitness program, even as it leads to greater physical fitness. It’s about eliminating the excuse cycle from our mindset and developing a bias towards action in all audacious and meaningful things. 75 days later, I’m neither great nor precious, but I’m closer to arete than I was before I started. Lifestyle choices don’t really end, they simply evolve in time. We begin to ask ourselves, if we can finish this, just what can we do next? Decide what to be next and go be it.

    • The Beauty of Enough in the Pursuit of Excellence

      “Never let the quest for more distract you from the beauty of enough.” ― Sahil Bloom

      “If you are going to achieve excellence in big things, you develop the habit in little matters. Excellence is not an exception, it is a prevailing attitude.” — Colin Powell

      How much is enough? For many, there’s never enough. But what about us? How much money do we need? How much time do we trade in exchange? What would we use that time for if not this relentless pursuit of more? These are questions worthy of consideration if we are to live a life of optimization—if we are to reach a place closer to arete, or personal excellence.

      So what is that place? Personal excellence is different for all of us. For me if means reaching a higher level of being. Writing this blog every day is one step on that journey. Reading every day is likewise essential. And so is the admittedly aggressive fitness plan I’ve been on that has resulted in my losing 11% of my previous body weight. The arrival of a leaner version of me isn’t the point, it’s the daily ritual reckoning of choosing to be what I decided to be that brings me closer to my version of arete. We know we’ll never arrive there, but the journey to it is the whole point.

      Personal excellence is not a relentless pursuit of more, it’s a consistent refinement of who we are. It’s not about accumulation of wealth or the fancy car or the private jet. It’s about learning to live a life of significance and purpose. That prevailing attitude of refinement and self-improvement towards someone better in all areas of our lives is what bridges the gap between who we are and who we might become.

      Is there a conflict between the beauty of enough and the pursuit of excellence? Our journey should always be towards the person we wish to become (decide what to be and go be it), and our identity is reinforced by incremental, daily effort in that direction. Making the bed in the morning, or washing the dishes, or doing the workout, or writing the blog post before stepping into a busy life—these are the realization of enough through active presence in our daily rituals on this journey of a lifetime. And that, friends, is beautiful.

    • Sea Change

      Nothing of him that doth fade,
      But doth suffer a sea-change
      Into something rich and strange.
      — William Shakespeare, The Tempest

      “Anyone who isn’t embarrassed of who they were last year probably isn’t learning enough.” ― Alain de Botton

      We know when we’re deep in the midst of massive change in our lives. Transformation is palpable and omnipresent in our days. In such moments, we hope we’re in the driver’s seat, though sometimes we’re simply on the bus. We ought to buckle up and see the ride through at any rate.

      This is a year of sea change in the world, and most certainly in my own world. We cannot control everything, but we can control how we react to change, and act to change that which we may influence in positive ways, that we go in the direction that we wish to go in. We have agency in our lives—we must remember this and be active agents of growth and transformation. Life demands this of us, or eventually sweeps us aside. Because life isn’t fair, it simply isn’t. It’s demanding and has high expectations of its participants. So we must rise to the occasion if we hope to optimize our experience in this one go at things.

      The thing is, one rung up the ladder of progress helps us see things differently than we did on that lower rung. We see where we’ve influenced our outcomes, where we fell short, and what might work on the next step up from here. Steady, consistent progress towards better on whatever ladder we’re climbing. Our story isn’t complete, not just yet, but it’s evolving with the times. Take it somewhere even more compelling.

    • The Whole Trip

      “E.L. Doctorow said once said that ‘Writing a novel is like driving a car at night. You can see only as far as your headlights, but you can make the whole trip that way.’ You don’t have to see where you’re going, you don’t have to see your destination or everything you will pass along the way. You just have to see two or three feet ahead of you. This is right up there with the best advice on writing, or life, I have ever heard.”
      ― Anne Lamott, Bird by Bird

      We meet moments in our lives, one to the next, that were unpredictable just before we arrived there. We’re all figuring things out as we move through our lives, one puzzle after another. We learn that we don’t have it all figured out, but that we can figure it out when we get there. Sure, save for retirement, and eat the right foods and exercise to build a foundation of health for tomorrow, but don’t face down imaginary monsters that may never rise to challenge us. Take each day as it comes.

      Writing and publishing a blog every day, like writing a line per day in my journal, is a great way to assess whatever mile marker I’ve arrived at along the way. What keeps us present with the things that are right in front of us, and not worried or distracted by the clown show happening off to the side? Those clowns may impact our lives, but we have to remember that we’re driving our own life and focus accordingly.

      To that end, keeping ourselves to task on the essential things we need to do in any given day is a great way to force ourselves to focus on what’s in front of us. I know I need to finish writing this blog, follow up with several people in my work, complete a project that I haven’t wanted to deal with, work out twice, read and hydrate properly. Everything else that fits in the vehicle as we’re moving down this road is a bonus, but completing each of those is the engine that keeps me moving forward.

    • Narrowing the Path

      “Remember your destination. This will help you to distinguish between an opportunity to be seized and a temptation to be resisted.” — Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks, The Two Journeys

      There are forces at play with us daily. We form an identity based on the choices we make. Am I a writer because I write every day? Am I an athlete because I work out twice a day, no matter what? I might believe this to be so for either, or not. There is nuance in identity, isn’t there?

      We know that we are more than the one or two things that we’re identified with. We are heading towards some new version of ourselves with every step. Each day brings us face-to-face with more choices to make (or not make) in determining who we will become next.

      So on and on I go, the seconds tick the time out
      So much left to know, and I’m on the road to find out
      — Cat Stevens, On The Road To Find Out

      What are the heuristics we employ to determine our next step? One ought to consider destination, as Sacks suggests in the quote above. Just where are we trying to go anyway? Are we trying to lose weight? Don’t have dessert with that meal, and maybe skip the bread and appetizer too. There’s nothing wrong with bread and appetizers and desserts if they’re each a part of the path we’re on. If they aren’t, well, why have them?

      My own heuristic is streak-based. I write every day because I started writing every day, and I don’t want to break the streak now. And 2600 + posts later, the streak continues. Similarly, I decided back in June to do a 75 day mental toughness challenge this summer, and with two weeks to go, I’ve managed to stay on track despite some strong temptations along the way. Simply put, my path narrowed considerably when I decided what to be. And so I continue to be it.

      Where is all this going? What is the ultimate destination? We know if we look far enough out that we will all end up in the same place. Memento mori. But prior to that? What is our health span? What experiences do we wish to have in a lifetime? What contribution will we make that is uniquely ours (Whitman’s “verse”)? Our destination isn’t really the best heuristic, but the path leading to it surely offers us the opportunity to thrive in our time. The trick is to keep that path just narrow enough even as we strive to experience more.

    • Small and Transitory Grapes

      How the clock moves on, relentlessly,
      with such assurance that it eats the years.
      The days are small and transitory grapes,
      the months grow faded, taken out of time.

      It fades, it falls away, the moment, fired
      by that implacable artillery—
      and suddenly, only a year is left of us,
      a month, a day, and death turns up in the diary.

      No one could ever stop the water’s flowing;
      nor thought nor love has ever held it back.
      It has run on through suns and other beings,
      its passing rhythm signifying our death.

      Until, in the end, we fall in time, exhausted,
      and it takes us, and that’s it. Then we are dead,
      dragged off with no being left, no life, no darkness,
      no dust, no words. That is what it comes to;
      and in the city where we’ll live no more,
      all is left empty; our clothing and our pride.
      — Pablo Neruda, And the City Now Has Gone

      Life, dear reader! We must live in our time, while there is time. That’s always been the message: Tempus fugit. Memento mori. Carpe diem. Time flies. Remember we all must die. Seize the day.

      We must remember our days are short and use the highlighter with abandon. Sprinkle these moments zestfully with awareness and joyful intent. Do what must be done immediately! For tomorrow is not our day. We believe it to be so at our peril.

      This blog will one day end. That it continues at all is an indication of the stubborn persistence of the writer. It’s merely bread crumbs placed gently in line, one after the other, marking the hour or two of who I was in the moment. These moments pass, and what is left are some memories, maybe a photograph, and some words published for all to see if they somehow stumble upon this impossibly hard to find jumble of words. But we bloggers know that the universe isn’t shifting its attention to see what our thoughts were today. The ego thus shattered, we shift our own purpose to growth, where it should have been all along.

      Words flow through us like days in a lifetime. These small and transitory grapes have found you today. But where will the writer be on this occasion? Somewhere further along, or fallen by the wayside—who’s to know? We can hope for a better place of awareness and refinement, but we know the score. It’s best to simply release these words of who we were today and not worry about tomorrows. We must each do what we can with this time, for we all know the score.

    • Story Weaving

      “To achieve great things, two things are needed: a plan and not quite enough time.” ― Leonard Bernstein

      The end of July regularly presents a staggeringly quick departure of the potential of summer. August brings us the dog days of summer, and for many, an early return to the structure of school or work. I used to believe that summer ended after the 4th of July. Nowadays I don’t worry as much about beginnings and endings of seasons, but note the changes nonetheless. We have the time we have. Use it or lose it. It’s the beginning of harvest time—but what have we sown?

      Summer changes by the day, and of course, so do we. Instead of regretting the passing of time, we ought to focus on what we’re doing with it now. We make our grand plans—how are those going? When is that novel coming out anyway? How about that fitness routine started and restarted again? Books read? Projects completed? The list goes on, but we know the score. Life has its say. It’s up to us to weave our story in and around all that happens along the way.

      Right on queue as I’m writing this, my phone is erupting with work messages pulling my attention away from completing this very blog post. It can be challenging to be mindful and creative when the world demands attention. Turning off the noise isn’t always possible when we live a full life, but we must train ourselves to block off time for the sacrosanct. To fritter and waste the time in an offhand way (thank you Pink Floyd) must be thought of as egregious. For we will never pass this way again (thank you Seals & Crofts).

      To live a creative, fulfilling life, we must find the time, even when there isn’t any time. Put down the phone, turn away from the noise, and focus on the inviolable core hiding behind that superfluous material that must be chiseled away to find (with a nod to Michelangelo). We have the time we have, we have our dreams we wish to pursue in that given time. It’s up to us to realize those dreams. It’s our mission if we choose to accept it (thank you… oh forget it). Just keep weaving, friend. For now is all we have.

    • The Best We Know

      Let dreamers dream what worlds they please
      Those edens can’t be found
      The sweetest flowers
      The fairest trees
      Are grown in solid ground
      We’re neither pure nor wise nor good
      We’ll do the best we know
      We’ll build our house and chop our wood
      And make our garden grow
      And make our garden grow
      — Leonard Bernstein, Make Our Garden Grow

      One of the many habits I’ve managed to keep going is to enter a daily line per day to log whatever it was that made the day unique in this string of days I’m blessed with in this mad sprint to infinity. We know the ending, we remember the highlight moments, but what of the everyday? What makes today, of all our days, special beyond ensuring that the string isn’t broken?

      Yesterday’s line per day entry filled the entire space. It will be a day I’ll remember for consequential events, but I shouldn’t let time rob me of the other moments wrapped around those events. Publishing a blog post, painting the pergola or evaluating the progress of the cucumber blossoms turning to fruit may not feel noteworthy, but they’re layers on our timeline just the same. Those layers are our life happening in real time—we ought to capture a few of them in words.

      We will remember these days for whatever we brought to them. So it follows that we should bring our very best even when we cannot control everything thrown at us by the universe. What do we want from this day? What will we give it in return? The best that we know is ours to offer. And usually, that’s enough.

    • So Is Life

      “As is a tale, so is life: not how long it is, but how good it is, is what matters.” ― Seneca

      The neighbors must think I’m crazy at this point. Walking all the time, sometimes with the pup, but sometimes without. Rain or shine, extreme heat or biting cold. I don’t care if they think I’m crazy. They’ve known me long enough to have formed opinions I can’t possibly sway one way or the other. What matters is the walk, what matters is doing what I said I’d do.

      I tried writing later in the day. I keep returning to the morning, so long as I’m not rushing off to catch a flight or some such thing. When something works extremely well for you, why change it? Surely we must test our theories, beliefs and assumptions, but having done so, we can safely stick with the things that move us in the direction we wish to go in. The writing habit is fully embedded in my identity now. The question now is where to take it next?

      As is a tale, so is life… What kind of creative storytelling are we doing with our lives? We forget sometimes that we are the authors of our days while we’re so busy reacting to the world and our place in it. We must remember our agency. We must remember our lives are an expression of growth and creativity born out of time well spent.

      Seneca also said that life, if well lived, is long enough. But what is well lived? That’s different for each of us, but I think it begins with growing closer to the personal excellence we aspire to. A bit of exercise, a bit of creative work, time with friends and family, and the pursuit of a larger life than the one we started today with seems the path to health, wealth and happiness. Those three pillars may or may not be in the cards for us, but they’re more likely to be a part of our lives if we apply ourselves to constant and never-ending improvement.

      When is enough enough? When do we stop working to grow and begin to simply enjoy what we’ve got? The question itself is a test of philosophy. Would we stop reading books because we finished a great novel? Would we stop writing because we reached some milestone, be it number of blog posts or publishing that book that’s been forever haunting us? The question is flawed, for it infers that we may be more content settling into satisfaction and rest. But isn’t stasis decline when viewed against the progression of life?

      How good a life we have is measured by more than how happy we are, it’s measured by how big a ripple we might leave one day. It’s measured by the love reflected back at us by people we care to move through this one precious life with. It’s measured by how long our health span is, and what we do with that healthy time. We will all be dust one day, but not just yet—so what matters greatly to us this day? We must be earnest in our pursuit of it, for there lies our evasive personal excellence. Look at how far we’ve come. Is this not good? Our tale grows more compelling by the day.

    • The Produce of Our Season

      “Work while you have the light. You are responsible for the talent that has been entrusted to you.” ― Henri Frédéric Amiel

      I went to a local farm stand to find some fresh produce. The woman at the register asked me how my winter had been. We know each other through produce transactions from mid-summer to early autumn, and little more than that. So winter in this instance meant the time from October to the 4th of July. Every conversation I’ve ever had with this woman has revolved around the variability of the growing season, the way to deal with groundhogs who snack on your tomatoes (with extreme violence, she suggests helpfully), and when they expect to have certain vegetables that aren’t yet available. Transactional, but pleasant conversation—but of course, I’m not a groundhog.

      A farm functions with the seasons. You must do the work to sustain the farm, grinding out the days with productivity. There’s no time to waste on a farm if you have any expectation of making a living from it. A farmer manages urgency and purpose with every waking moment. There is nothing unclear about the days on a farm. Grind it out again and again until the harvest, take a deep breath and start all over again… and again still.

      Would we only have this level of clarity in our own creative work. We know that there is work to be done, for there is still a fire within. Of this there is no question. The question has always been, what will stoke the fire and warm the soul? Do we dabble in uninspiring work, merely to make ends meet? Or do we dive deeply into finding the light within, wrestling demons to bring it to the surface? What are we producing that adds value?

      We are each entrusted with a unique combination of talent and perspective. We must learn to make the most of these gifts in the growing season we have before us. Like the farmer, we must feel the urgency of the day at hand, we must wrestle with our purpose and push through the challenges that each day presents. When we look at the farm stand that is our own work, what have we produced? There lies the truth of our season. There lies the answer for what we must do next.