Alexandersmap

    Category: Writing

    • So Much Left to Know

      Well, in the end I’ll know, but on the way I wonder
      Through descending snow, and through the frost and thunder
      I listen to the wind come howl, telling me I have to hurry
      I listen to the robin’s song saying not to worry
      So on and on I go, the seconds tick the time out
      There’s so much left to know, and I’m on the road to find out
      — Yusuf/Cat Stevens, On The Road To Findout

      The writing comes easier at the moment, but I feel a need to step away from the routine and get back to exploring. Why do we write when we may do? We know the answer lies in the question. We write so that we may do. One feeds the other. And so we must venture outward and return inward, farther and farther, deeper and deeper, again and again.

      Discovery is the game. We’re all just souls marching through time, trying to figure it out as we go. Anyone who tells you they know all the answers is a fool or a charlatan. The rest of us must stay curious, focus on optimization within each day, and see what we may encounter along the way.

      Accumulate enough experience and we may dance with wisdom. That word itself is a trap, and those who have accumulated wisdom will be the first to tell you it’s still the beginning of their own journey. I’ve learned a lot in my time, but mostly that I don’t know nearly enough to ever believe I’m wise. More a wise guy trying to hide the fact that I’m still on the road to find out enough. The rest will reveal itself or it won’t. Who are we to rush discovery?

    • The Company We Keep

      “All we have experienced is so much gone within us, and there lies. It is the company we keep. One day, in health or sickness, it will come out and be remembered. Neither body nor soul forgets anything.” — Henry David Thoreau, The Journal of Henry David Thoreau

      We know that we are the sum of our experiences to this moment, so why do we short our experiences garnered today? We must live as if we were dying, as that song once suggested to the hungry masses. How many listen to a call like that? Maybe tomorrow, after we finish bing watching The Office again. Haven’t we learned yet that tomorrow’s never come? Memento mori...

      These are days we’ll remember—if we make it memorable. Those of us who write in a line per day journal know the coldness of not having much to write about on any given day. On days like that, as the evening gets dark and cold, I take the pup for a walk and look for planets amongst the stars, listen for owls and coyotes in the distance, inhale the crisp air and remember that I’m alive another day. So many of our days are there simply to connect the memorable ones together. But they all count just the same.

      Reading a journal entry from Thoreau written on this date in 1837, I thought of all that was to come for him. His own thoughts were on the sum of who he was to that point. We all write our future from the perspective of our experiences and observations thus far. Expanding the palate with progressively more adventurous moments that lead us to a shift in identity. We all have the kernel of our future within us, wrapped around our past. Our past life is the company we keep, whispering to us about all that we might discover if we just step beyond the sound of our own voice.

    • I Cannot Miss My Way

      The earth is all before me. With a heart
      Joyous, nor scared at its own liberty,
      I look about; and should the chosen guide
      Be nothing better than a wandering cloud,
      I cannot miss my way. I breathe again!
      ― William Wordsworth, The Prelude

      I aspire to be what Ayn Rand described as “a man with an immense capacity for the enjoyment of existence.” I’m long past apologizing for this aspiration, and I’ve learned not to tolerate those who would suggest that I grow up and be as miserable as the person suggesting it. We cannot have it all, but we must not miss our way in this lifetime, for it is nothing but fleeting.

      We scurry through our days with so much accumulated responsibility. We must ask ourselves, is this my burden to carry? When the day is done, how much of it will be given to the work that whispers to us in the quiet moments? What verse are we writing today that is ours alone to write?

      We must rise above the melancholy of the masses and find our own way through the fog. Too many choose a purposeless existence. Too many settle for a life of subservience to the dreams of others. Look around! We may be poets, should we be so bold. We must not be afraid of our own liberty.

    • Reverent Listening

      “Good writing as well as good acting will be obedience to conscience. There must not be a particle of will or whim mixed with it. If we can listen, we shall hear. By reverently listening to the inner voice, we may reinstate ourselves on the pinnacle of humanity.” — Henry David Thoreau, The Journal of Henry David Thoreau

      I went through a period of time where I considered whether to stop blogging altogether to give that valuable time to other writing. My most productive time is first thing in the morning, before the world wakes up and tells me what it thinks of my grand plans. Why use that time for a blog when I could use it to write a novel or the works of non-fiction that whisper to me?

      The answer, I think, is that this is my daily reckoning with a particular muse that blesses me with its time. To jilt this one for the hope of meeting another is impertinent. Put another way, everything has its time, and first thing in the morning is taken. We may be more selective with our listening at other times of day and turn off the noise of the world. We may choose to spend, say, lunchtime walking quietly with a new muse, reverently listening to a new perspective.

      Everything we do is habitual and routine. This naturally implies that what we’re doing with that time now ought to change. Our life’s contribution comes down to a series of decisions about what we say yes and no to. Decide what to be and go be it, as the Avett Brothers song suggests. Perhaps our most important decision is what we choose to listen as we navigate our days.

    • Creativity and Work

      “Great things are not done by impulse, but a series of small things brought together.” — Vincent Van Gogh

      Work without creativity is drudgery. Creativity without work is nothing but daydreaming. The optimal condition for any of us is to do creative work every day. When it all comes together, it’s magic.

      When we go through the motions in our work or creative pursuits, we quickly grow bored and look for distraction or an exit plan. When we do creative work, we imagine doing it forever. We ought to ask ourselves in all pursuits, is this enough? What more can I bring to this? The answer may drive us to make the changes necessary to be more actively engaged in creative work.

      So many people are lost in their days, either plodding through the hours or daydreaming the time away. That’s no way to live. I’ve been there myself, struggling through soul-crushing work looking for a viable escape plan. It wasn’t until the moments in my career where I brought creativity to my work that it lit a spark and illuminated my days. It’s the same with writing—when I go through the motions, nothing interesting happens. When I work through the walls I find the muse waiting on the other side.

      None of us have the time to waste on meaningless activity. Bringing work to our creative pursuits is just as essential as bringing creativity to our work. We cannot go through the motions in our days and live an optimized life. Creativity and work must be integrated together to fully realize our potential.

    • The Rise of a Quiet Excitement

      “No matter what night preceded it, she had never known a morning when she did not feel the rise of a quiet excitement that became a tightening energy in her body and a hunger for action in her mind—because this was the beginning of day and it was a day of her life.” — Ayn Rand, Atlas Shrugged

      “Rise free from care before the dawn and seek adventures.” — Henry David Thoreau

      How did it feel getting out of bed this morning? Does the day ahead stir the imagination or fill the mind with indifference? We all have bills to pay, we all have obligations that require our attention, but most of us simply let those things steer us where they will. We drift through our days, only feeling excitement for the things that pull us away from our work, like holidays and travel and what we’re doing on the weekend. What if every day offered the thrill of audacity and creative output?

      I know the writing is important to me because I rush right to it. On those mornings when I can’t get to it right away because of a flight or because I have early riser friends staying over, it eats at me until I immerse myself in the creative act. It’s not that those other things aren’t fun or interesting, it’s that I feel the writing brings me closer to a place I want to go.

      When you read that quote from Atlas Shrugged, does it feel like the way you met the day today, or does it read as merely words? We’re either turning excited energy into action or we’re going through the motions in our days, just to get through them. Remember the line from the movie Animal House? “Fat, drunk and stupid is no way to go through life, son.” It’s a funny line when we’re kids, but it cuts deeper when we wade through life a bit longer.

      What might we offer to the world that is uniquely ours to give? Does that fill us to bursting with excitement and energy? Then do more of that, whatever the cost. For most of us, it’s a side hustle or a hobby. For the truly blessed, it’s a lifestyle and a career path. Whatever we feel is telling us all we need to know, if we’ll only listen. But more than listening, we must act. This day is ours only this once.

    • Boldly now

      “When I took my first wobbly steps on ice skates aged four, my mother was standing on the sidelines cheering me on. The ice was cold, hard and not very even, and I didn’t like trying out new things. I wanted to leave. My mother smiled encouragingly, and as I shakily ventured out farther on the ice, I heard her shout “Rohkeasti vaan!” behind me. This Finnish expression can be roughly translated as “Boldly now!” and typifies our attitude to raising kids.” — Joanna Nyland, Sisu: The Finnish Art of Courage

      This blog is a series of railroad ties laid one day to the next, carrying the writer and anyone who cares to follow along across the blank slate towards heightened awareness. Sometimes the journey reveals stunning vistas, sometimes it slogs through the dullest of plateaus seeking a breakthrough. The sum of our daily action is carrying us somewhere. The compass aims at better, but it comes down to what we’ve done with the days.

      The trick with anything we set out to do is to keep doing it until we reach our goal. To be bold is not itself a goal, but an aspiration of attitude to bring to this next step and the one after that. It’s the long, purposeful stride, not the timid baby step. Both move us along, but we’ve only got so many days. The bolder step carries us faster and farther, and builds momentum necessary for the occasional leap.

      When the days become routine and the weeks blend together into a level of sameness that leave us uninspired, let us remember to be bold. The Finnish phrase quoted above, “Rohkeasti vaan!”, isn’t likely to roll off my tongue, but the translation, “Boldly now!” has the power to inspire the laying of more track, on an ever-higher plane, towards those aspirational vistas. Baby steps may offer forward progress, but we must remember to boldly lengthen that stride and get after it, now.

    • A Look and a Listen

      I want to leave to you,
      My grandchildren,
      This wren from Down,
      Its cotton-wool soul,
      Wire skeleton, feathers
      Apparently alive,
      Its tumultuous
      Aria in C or
      Whatever the key
      In which God exists.
      — Michael Longley, Another Wren

      I learned that Michael Longley has passed, and realized that I’ve never quoted a single poem by him in this blog. To do so now, after his death, is one way to keep his voice alive. But then, don’t all poets transcend the fragile timeline of life? We all ought to write more, as a gift to our own grandchildren and their children beyond.

      We get so angry at the world and the failings of mankind that we ignore the music playing in the background while we rant. It turns out to be quite beautiful when we return to stillness and hear it as if for the first time. We owe it to ourselves to discover the miracles hiding in plain sight. We become like the Marshall McLuhan analogy of fish in water, not realizing what they’re swimming in. Friends, we’re swimming in miracles. Have a look and a listen.

    • Ideas

      “Ideas are like fish. If you want to catch little fish, you can stay in the shallow water. But if you want to catch the big fish, you’ve got to go deeper. Down deep, the fish are more powerful and more pure.They’re huge and abstract. And they’re very beautiful.” — David Lynch, Catching the Big Fish: Meditation, Consciousness, and Creativity

      A daily blog post means going to the well every morning and seeing what comes to the surface. The blog posts that felt the most rushed while writing feel shallow on review. It’s not the time taken to write them, but the mindset going into it. The muse doesn’t like to be rushed, but on her terms sometimes words and ideas flow quickly. Routine helps set the mood, but I’ve learned to be patient and everything flows soon enough.

      Ideas don’t come easily when we’re distracted. Carving out quiet space gives the mind room to roam. Of course, some days are easier for roaming than others, and we ship our work with the depth we’re capable of in the moment.

      Often times I write a paragraph or two and walk away from the blog to do something else for a while. When I return to the work, I bring with me a fresh perspective on things. I channel this newfound energy into better writing. The end product may or may not impress, but it’s surely better. And ultimately, better is what we’re all seeking on our lifelong path towards personal excellence.

    • Singlemindedness

      “To follow without halt, one aim; there is the secret of success. And success? What is it? I do not find it in the applause of the theater. It lies rather in the satisfaction of accomplishment.” — Anna Pavlova

      Single-mindedness is a superpower. With it we focus on our top priority at the expense of all others. Without it, we are a jack of all trades. We may become good at many things, but as the expression goes, we master none. We simply cannot reach mastery without single-mindedness.

      The real question is, what should we say yes to that would make all else a no? Is it best to live an abundance of yeses or a highly restricted life of many no’s? Does mastery trump the pursuit of a life of many passions?

      Naturally the world couldn’t care a lick what we wish to focus on. There are many important things on our to-do list and an infinite number of distractions available to pull our attention away from the essential. We must wrestle with these questions as we progress through life, with each stage bringing a different perspective. But throughout our entirety, we must protect our focus as if our lives depend on it. Surely it does.