Alexandersmap

    Category: Writing

    • Trying to Be Good

      “Nobody tells this to people who are beginners, I wish someone told me. All of us who do creative work, we get into it because we have good taste. But there is this gap. For the first couple years you make stuff, it’s just not that good. It’s trying to be good, it has potential, but it’s not. But your taste, the thing that got you into the game, is still killer. And your taste is why your work disappoints you. A lot of people never get past this phase, they quit. Most people I know who do interesting, creative work went through years of this. We know our work doesn’t have this special thing that we want it to have. We all go through this. And if you are just starting out or you are still in this phase, you gotta know its normal and the most important thing you can do is do a lot of work. Put yourself on a deadline so that every week you will finish one story. It is only by going through a volume of work that you will close that gap, and your work will be as good as your ambitions. And I took longer to figure out how to do this than anyone I’ve ever met. It’s gonna take awhile. It’s normal to take awhile. You’ve just gotta fight your way through.”
      ― Ira Glass

      Over the weekend I replaced a door that had been bothering me for some time. As with everything, it began with a small project (add a deadbolt!) that became a big project when I made a mistake that couldn’t be fixed (measure twice, drill once). No instructions or template and an educated guess proven terminally (for the old door) incorrect. That accelerated the need for a new door, which led to a few more mistakes along the way that needed to be fixed before the door was finally, blessedly, installed. A one hour project became a six hour project. That’s what happens when skills don’t meet the standard we set for ourselves.

      It takes time to close the gap between where our standards are set and the quality of the work we produce at present. I know intuitively that I’m a better writer than I was five years ago, and remain hopeful that the writer I might be in five more years is even better. The daily blog is penance paid to the craft. Without daily effort, our skills atrophy.

      The thing is, there’s nothing wrong with having a high standard. We must aspire to greatness in our lives, that we may grow. The trick is to stay patient with ourselves during the process of becoming. Mistakes are inevitable and often expensive, for there’s an opportunity cost in everything we do. We must remind ourselves that the price paid today is an investment in our future self and simply work through it.

    • The Gods Wait

      your life is your life
      don’t let it be clubbed into dank submission.
      be on the watch.
      there are ways out.
      there is a light somewhere.
      it may not be much light but
      it beats the darkness.
      be on the watch.
      the gods will offer you chances.
      know them.
      take them.
      you can’t beat death but
      you can beat death in life, sometimes.
      and the more often you learn to do it,
      the more light there will be.
      your life is your life.
      know it while you have it.
      you are marvelous
      the gods wait to delight
      in you.
      — Charles Bukowski, The Laughing Heart

      I revisited some old characters this week. Some were people I hadn’t seen in some time, met with lunch in between us and life’s hurdles to compare. Some were characters invented in my head and tapped into flesh on the keyboard. Like the people I had lunch with, I haven’t visited with them in some time and there’s a chance I might not see them again anytime soon. We live the life we invest ourselves into. The gods wait to delight in you.

      I’ve become my father in some ways. I don’t check in with the kids as much, but I’m there for them when they wish to reconnect. I recognize the folly in this through the distance between my father and me before he finally slipped into dementia. Where is the light in our lives but in our children and the person we share our days with? I stay connected in small ways, to let them know I’m thinking of them. My bride has entire text conversations with them that I only hear about as an executive summary. We spend 90% of our time with our children before they leave the house. We must hold on to that remaining 10% for dear life.

      We dance with light in our days or we are wrestled into darkness. We must choose light, and be a source of it for the people in our lives who need it the most. Connection is so hard to maintain when we all have so much to do in our brief time, but it’s the essence of a joyful and meaningful life. When these days are well behind us and all we have are fragile memories of our time together, will we smile at the recollection of the light between us or see the gap? The gods will offer us chances.

    • Let it Mingle

      “You must not ever stop being whimsical. And you must not, ever, give anyone else the responsibility for your life.” — Mary Oliver, Staying Alive

      I woke up to find it another Monday. I’m ambivalent about the day of the week most times, but this Monday feels tinged with changes in the air that only Tuesday may tell. Every day is an opportunity to dance with boldness and truth. Especially this one.

      Leave it to a poet to point the way. Saying more with less (as they do). Grasping the timeless in the fragile present (as they must). Having the generosity to share with others (as we so desperately need them to do). To live as a poet is to move through the world like a sophist and reveal the naked truth hidden in plain site. We might all be poets, but for the languid inefficiency with words and an inclination to look the other way.

      To truly live in this world is to frolic through the days, not in a nihilistic way, but in a knowing the truth and choosing to dance anyway kind of way. We only have this one. What kind of spell might we stir up in the hours before us? To live with purpose and urgency and generosity and yes, a bit of whimsy, is the magic potion of the poet. We must not defer to others in our march through time, simply bring our best to each moment and let it mingle.

    • Combinations

      “I’m not the best writer, but it is a strength. I might be a 90th percentile writer.
      And I’m not the best marketer, but it is a strength. Again, maybe 90th percentile? I’m better than most, but if you pass 100 people on the street it won’t be hard to find some people better than me.
      What I have gradually learned is that it is not your strengths, but your combination of strengths that sets you apart. It is the fact that writing and marketing are mutually reinforcing—and that I enjoy both—that leads to great results.
      How can you combine your strength? That’s something I would encourage everyone to think about. You will find talented people in every area of life. It’s the combinations that are rare.”
      — James Clear, 3-2-1 Newsletter, 4 July 2024

      We thrive when our unique set of developed skills and natural talents come together at the right place and time for us to leverage them fully. And the rest of the time we’re simply figuring things out. We know when our timing is right, because it all seems to fall into place for us as if by magic. Everything else in our life is incremental growth or gradual decline. It’s up to us to choose daily routines that move us in the right direction even when the timing isn’t right for our unique combinations to thrive in a maddening world.

      I remind my daughter (and myself) to write every day because muscle memory matters. Writing every day helps us find combinations of ideas and words that we otherwise might not have found. We never know when the timing is going to be just right for our combinations, only that we must be ready to seize the moment when it arrives. When you’re young if feels like you can push off the writing for tomorrow when the muse isn’t whispering in your ear today, but it doesn’t work like that. The cruelest twist in our creative life is that it’s got a timer. We must therefore use the time we have as best we can.

      “The best time to plant a tree was 20 years ago. The second best time is now.” — Chinese Proverb

      Most of us will go through our lives doing work that is good enough to get by but never really takes off. Perhaps the answer isn’t in the work but that we’ve put the puzzle together incorrectly. Most jigsaw puzzles have pieces that seem to fit in one place but on further review aren’t where they’re supposed to be. Once we finally see that and move those pieces to where they belong we may finally solve the puzzle. And so it is with our own combinations of skills and talents. We know when they’re not being used in the right place. Still, we must use them until we find the right combination.

      The way to unlock the puzzle is to take stock of our strengths and begin to try new combinations, that we may find the ones that work. To be forever locked up in our untapped potential is no way to go through life. Like that jigsaw puzzle, stubbornly holding on to things that clearly aren’t working will leave us with an unfinished project or worse, an unfulfilled life.

      The thing to remember about puzzles is that they’re meant to be solved. Unlike jigsaw puzzles, we humans are forever making new pieces of our identity that may be just the right combination we were looking for. So it is that we must continue to develop new experiences and skills that may be applied to our life’s work. There’s a time and place for everything. Just keep working on those combinations.

    • The Audacious Turn

      “There’s no glory in climbing a mountain if all you want to do is to get to the top. It’s experiencing the climb itself – in all its moments of revelation, heartbreak, and fatigue – that has to be the goal.” — Karyn Kusama

      This week has been filled with moments of revelation, heartbreak and fatigue. Sure, the Olympics has been jammed with such moments, but really, I’m talking about my own unique combination of work week, exercise regime and writing. Anything that represents the climb for us is bound to be full of highs and lows. The trick is to learn to accept it all and keep climbing.

      What makes life more interesting—the view at the top or the obstacles we navigate along the way? Perhaps a better way to ask that question is, which makes the better story? Life isn’t simply that Instagram post capturing the sunset, pretty as it may be, it’s the hike up to earn it and the careful descent down the rock scramble afterwards that we’ll talk about in the days that follow. The thing about climbing is that even while we’re constantly facing challenges, we grow more and more prepared to tackle such things. We grow more fit, more resilient, more determined to do just a little bit more tomorrow. And live to tell the tale.

      This summer has been a reacquaintance with cycling. There are rides I’ve done recently that I wouldn’t have done a month ago. I’ve noticed that the more I ride the less I go to the rail trails. Sure, we can ride them every day and avoid most climbs and vehicle traffic, but what have we experienced? The steep hills I opted out of climbing before are worth tackling now because I’m less intimidated by the climb and because flat gets boring. We do the work that we may climb, and so it follows that we must climb when we’ve done the work.

      That nagging voice is reminding me that there are other hills that I keep riding past in my life in favor of easier rides. There are chapters to write that haven’t been written, awaiting a bolder version of me. We can go an entire lifetime saying we’ll do the tough work tomorrow and never make the audacious turn up that hill. Then again, we can simply be bold today and see how it plays out. We are here to experience it all, aren’t we? So what perceived limitations will we test in our life today?

    • Slicing Out the Moment

      “All photographs are memento mori. To take a photograph is to participate in another person’s (or thing’s) mortality, vulnerability, mutability. Precisely by slicing out this moment and freezing it, all photographs testify to time’s relentless melt.” ― Susan Sontag

      There’s a cool feature in iPhone photos where you can view the map of where your thousands of photographs were taken, with thumbnails of the photos overlaying the spot it was geolocated. It’s a great reminder of where we’ve been and what we saw at the time we were there. It’s a momentary slice of our lives from the past, and we get to relive it with a virtual flyover as we zoom in on the place. And in doing so, the pictures from that place come back to us like a flood of memories.

      I’ve taken tens of thousands of photographs, mostly with my collection of iPhones since those became the technology that replaced a camera. But my Instagram feed is only at 1700 posts. We all save the best pictures to show others, don’t we? But that particular platform isn’t always friendly when formatting our favorite pictures, and so they fail to make the cut. Not so with our library, where with time and patience we can scroll through everything to find memories.

      I’m that person at parties and family gatherings taking all the pictures. I do it because I know the moment will soon be gone like all the rest but some fragment of it may live on. I’ve captured people no longer with us, full of hope and happiness or sometimes with a knowing look that this may be the last photo you’ll get of them. My favorite Navy pilot once observed this as I insisted on taking his picture with his grandchildren. It would be years before he passed, but his belief in my motivation for taking the picture stayed with me and does to this day.

      The thing is, all of our past moments are dead and gone. The people and places live on within us for as long as we are alive, and then we in turn live on in others for as long as they are. Beyond that is beyond all of us to know. Immortality isn’t ours to achieve, but our image may live on beyond the living memory of all who knew us. So too may our words, should we be so bold as to write them down for all to see.

      We all know the score. Tempus fugit (time flies), memento mori (remember we all must die) and so the only reasonable answer is carpe diem (seize the day). Capturing a few images along the way allows us to look back on a life well-lived and trigger memories that may have faded. Memories of places and people and moments that once were our entire life for an instant and now a layer of our identity, gently folded within us for the rest of our days.

    • Raising Our Voice of Reason

      Our little lives get complicated
      It’s a simple thing
      Simple as a flower
      And that’s a complicated thing
      — Love and Rockets, No New Tale to Tell

      Wrestling with what comes next with the generation ahead of mine is complicated. Offering guidance to the young adults we raised when they have good heads on their own shoulders is also complicated. We ought to let people find their own way as much as we can, while remembering that we’re in their life for a reason. Sometimes we have something to offer in such moments.

      The world is very complicated right now. Sometimes it seems like our only purpose is to be a voice of reason in a maddeningly confused time. It seems some people are outraged by the opening ceremonies at the Olympics. I’m more outraged by children dying on a soccer pitch in the Golan Heights for no reason but that they were born in a place and time that made them expendable to someone with the means and inclination to wipe their lives away. I’m more outraged that we’re pissing away time focusing on petty instead of looking at the bigger issues this planet is facing right now. And yes, I’m more outraged that people are outraged by things they’re told to be outraged about instead of following their own moral compass.

      “Frodo: I wish the Ring had never come to me. I wish none of this had happened.
      Gandalf: So do all who live to see such times, but that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us.”
      ― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings

      I don’t particularly want to make this blog political, and choose to focus on finding common ground instead. I feel the world needs more people pointing out the things that link us together instead of people pulling us apart, and so I use my keyboard accordingly. That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t point out when we go astray. The human race is staggeringly complicated and stupefyingly simple all at once. Art is finding the beauty in the madness and helping others see what was right in front of them all along.

      Our job, should we choose to embrace it, is to raise our voice and bring reason to the conversation. The world doesn’t need another person screaming, and it doesn’t need another person who chooses to stay silent, it needs thoughtful consideration about what comes next and a measured response. It needs people who rise up and do what’s right when it feels like rising up will get you knocked down. This is our time, after all. So what will we do with reason when it asks for a voice?

    • What Feeds Your Head

      “I would urge you to be as imprudent as you dare. BE BOLD, BE BOLD, BE BOLD. Keep on reading. (Poetry. And novels from 1700 to 1940.) Lay off the television. And, remember when you hear yourself saying one day that you don’t have time any more to read- or listen to music, or look at [a] painting, or go to the movies, or do whatever feeds you head now- then you’re getting old. That means they got to you, after all.” — Susan Sontag, from the 1983 Wellesley College commencement speech

      I’m far from the most productive productivity zealot out there, and I’ve always positioned myself as the late bloomer figuring things out as I go. One thing I figured out a long time ago was that I need to have a head start to keep up with that which I aspire to finish today. It’s no secret that I try to jamb as much as possible into the morning hours, that I may be ahead of the game as the world washes it’s nonsense over me. This morning? 11 mile ride, feed the pets, water the plants, read two chapters, responded to essential work emails and now writing this blog in hopes of publishing before 8 AM. Will my hours be as productive as the day progresses? Likely not, but at least I’ve done what I’d hoped to do when I woke up.

      We can’t run on empty forever. We’ve got to fuel the engine that keeps us running down the hours. Hydration and nutrition are a given, but we can’t forget to refill the mind’s battery. A good night’s sleep to keep the brain fog at bay, then seek to fill up with as much nutrient-rich experience as we can find. What feeds our head? We ought to be more creative and attentive to our choices. Garbage in, garbage out and all that.

      I’m pressing for more travel, more music, more art, more face time with interesting people, and more diverse experience than I’ve accumulated thus far. How much is enough? We’ll know it when we get there, and I’m a long way from there now. Sontag’s speech to young graduates was likely well received, but it’s their parents and grandparents who really knew the score. Life will constantly get in the way of feeding our mind and soul. We must carve out the time and jealously guard it, lest it disappear forever.

      So be bold today. It’s not the first time I’ve asked, and won’t be the last. I’m asking it of you and also of me. Today’s the day. Nice starts are great, but sprint to the finish this day. There’s just so much to see and do and only now to work with.

    • Getting Past Wobbly

      “You can, you should, and if you’re brave enough to start, you will.” — Stephen King, On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft

      The thing about cycling (or anything, really) is that anyone can do it, but to get really good at it you’ve got to do it a lot. Do the 10,000 hours of paying your dues in sweat equity and your conditioning is sound, your creative use of gears makes hill climbs easier, and you stop thinking about the cars zipping past you at high speeds inches from your left shoulder (or you find better routes). In short, you learn the tricks of the trade and gain some muscle memory for having done the work. But there’s no getting around that wobbly start.

      The thing about writing every day is that you gain that same muscle memory, expressed through paragraphs of prose you didn’t know were in your head when you started. Is a blog enough when you look back on the content created? We know the answer when we begin to ask the question—there’s more to do for us. It’s not just this, friend, whatever our this may be. We should get to it already. It’s those wobbly starts that scare us. How can we possibly make it up that hill if we’re so wobbly on the flat? How can we finish a novel when we barely have time to finish a blog?

      The hill will be there when it’s time to climb the hill. For now just start peddling and gaining momentum and see where life can bring us. Starting is enough in the beginning, pretty soon we’re surprising ourselves with things like average speed and elevation gain in cycling, or word count, better phrasing and such in writing. We aspire to climb to greater heights in the things we wish to be great at and find joy in the process, that we may begin again tomorrow with even loftier goals.

      The trick is to get out of our own head and start. We really should. Who cares if we’re a bit wobbly in the beginning anyway? Soon we’ll find some momentum. The fact that we’re thinking about climbing that hill means we’re ready to attempt it. When we really think about it, the only thing wobbly is the excuse for not starting now. So what is your hill and what are you waiting for?

    • The Realized and the Wistful

      “If more information was the answer, then we’d all be billionaires with perfect abs.” ― Derek Sivers

      We know we’ve got to work the plan to meet our objectives. Plans without work are simply dreams that will eventually be wistful regrets. I write a lot about productivity to remind myself that becoming is an act of deliberate action. Everything else is talk.

      As Jim Collins demonstrated to us with his analogy in Good to Great, pushing the flywheel establishes momentum. In theory it becomes easier and easier as we push and the flywheel’s momentum takes over. The opposite is true as well: stop pushing for awhile and all momentum is lost and the work becomes harder to get back on track. The lesson is to keep pushing. The underlying lesson is to make sure we’re pushing on the right flywheel in the first place.

      It’s essential to assess things as we go so we don’t arrive at the place we’ve been pushing towards only to find it wasn’t where we wanted to be in the first place. I had a few people question me when I stated I was assessing whether to keep writing this blog. I think it’s fair to ask that question of ourselves, but maybe not fair to put it out there in writing for all to see. Perhaps I overshared. Still, I keep pushing.

      The root of the Sivers quote above, and the conclusion I’m finally getting to, is that we’re all figuring it out as we go. We can’t stop pushing ahead to establish and sustain momentum, but we must pause long enough now and then to assess where we are and where we’re going. There are no do-overs in this game, and nothing is ever perfect. But when we get it right, we might maximize our realized dreams while minimizing those wistful regrets. Maybe that’s enough success for one lifetime.