Alexandersmap

    Category: Writing

    • Catching Days

      “How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives. What we do with this hour, and that one, is what we are doing. A schedule defends from chaos and whim. It is a net for catching days. It is a scaffolding on which a worker can stand and labor with both hands at sections of time. A schedule is a mock-up of reason and order—willed, faked, and so brought into being; it is a peace and a haven set into the wreck of time; it is a lifeboat on which you find yourself, decades later, still living.” ― Annie Dillard, The Writing Life

      The days fly by, don’t they? We fill our hours with chaos and whim or reason and order, and so goes our life. Structure thus becomes a means to a more fulfilling lifespan. That doesn’t infer rigidly-defined productivity at the expense of joyful experience, but rather using our time strategically to make the most of the what’s available to us.

      Just imagine: Imagine what we can do with our lives should we add a bit of informed structure to our driving purpose. Imagine the places we might see, the people we might influence. Imagine the ripple set across time with just a bit more focus on catching days. Imagine following through on that quiet commitment you made to yourself to do the work that speaks to you.

      We know that focusing means saying no to the parade of other options that flood our senses. No to watching that amazing episode of The Office for the nth time, no to diving into that trendy new hobby that friends are doing, no to all kinds of potential fun that we may say yes to this other thing. But that’s the rub: to do anything well we must do most everything else less well, or not at all.

      “Living life to the fullest requires settling. You must settle, in a relatively enduring way, upon something that will be the object of your striving, in order for that striving to count as striving.” — Oliver Burkeman, Four Thousand Weeks

      So are we striving for something or simply going through the motions? We choose how we react to the world as it’s presented to us, and in that reaction is our opportunity to fill our moments with something more meaningful than the other options on the table. In the heat of the moment life can feel frenzied and limited. We can’t possibly do everything.

      When we think of life in terms of time buckets or seasons, it can help bring clarity to what is essential now, versus then, and allow us to prioritize accordingly. What is most essential right now? Life would be boring with blinders on the entire time—to live fully we must open ourselves up to the world around us—but that doesn’t let us off the hook. We must carve out time for what is essential lest the time slip away forever.

    • ChatGPT (as?) Me

      ChatGPT can be seen as a tool to enhance productivity or to accelerate the end of days. The optimist in me sees the potential in Artificial Intelligence (AI). As with any technology, it’s people who weaponize it. The moment you can create a nuclear weapon out of household goods is the day we all should contemplate the afterlife. Assuming controls are in place, we might actually find value in AI. Then again, it might just steal all of our jobs. As a creative type, I have to admit to being both delighted and humbled by the speed and accuracy of ChatGPT when I started using it.

      Consider my chat, “summarize War and Peace in one paragraph”:

      “War and Peace” is a classic novel by Leo Tolstoy, set in 19th-century Russia during the Napoleonic era. The epic story revolves around the lives of five aristocratic families and their experiences during times of war and peace. It delves into themes of love, ambition, fate, and the human condition. The narrative masterfully interweaves the personal journeys of its characters, showcasing the effects of war on society and individuals, while also exploring profound philosophical reflections on life and historical events. The novel’s vast scope and intricate character development make it a timeless exploration of the human spirit, offering profound insights into the complexities of human relationships, the consequences of our actions, and the pursuit of personal and societal meaning.

      Now consider something far more personal for me, “summarize the content of alexandersmap.com in one paragraph”:

      “Live with intention, embrace the journey, and seek a deep connection with the world around you. Be curious, explore new places, and appreciate the beauty of nature. Cultivate gratitude for the small moments and cherish the relationships with loved ones. Embrace challenges as opportunities for growth, and find balance between work, leisure, and reflection. Understand that life is a continuous learning process, and wisdom comes from experiences, failures, and self-awareness. Strive to leave a positive impact on others and the planet, fostering a sense of community and global consciousness. Ultimately, find purpose in living authentically, mindfully, and with a sense of wonder, making the most of every moment on this extraordinary journey through life.”

      Wow. Lovely summary, and great advice! But it raises a serious question: Why go on writing? If AI can tap into everything we’ve ever done and write in our style, why should we create anything at all? Well, because we are each processing our own data aren’t we? Life is a string of days figuring things out at our own pace, and writing offers a way to create something beyond ourselves. We ought to continue writing our own verse, not just in spite of it all, but because the ripple matters. ChatGPT didn’t create my words, it summarized them from an admittedly modest ripple across the Internet. Somewhere within there is my contribution. Somewhere in there is me.

      In the context of infinity none of this matters a great deal anyway, but it matters just enough to keep at it. We aren’t nihilists, we’re artists. Art is an expression of something profoundly unique deep within us. Maybe AI can mine a large enough sample size to offer a close-enough copy, but it’s still nothing but a derivative of the original work. So keep doing the work.

    • Then Agains

      “Mortality makes it impossible to ignore the absurdity of living solely for the future.”
      ― Oliver Burkeman, Four Thousand Weeks: Time Management for Mortals

      “We’ve been granted the mental capacities to make almost infinitely ambitious plans, yet practically no time at all to put them into action.”
      ― Oliver Burkeman, Four Thousand Weeks: Time Management for Mortals

      “We all have at least the potential to make more money in the future, we can never go back and recapture time that is now gone. So it makes no sense to let opportunities pass us by for fear of squandering our money. Squandering our lives should be a much greater worry.”
      ― Bill Perkins, Die with Zero: Getting All You Can from Your Money and Your Life

      This blog may feel like a one hit wonder, dancing around the twin themes of memento mori and carpe diem. This is a reminder to myself, blogging steadily along through the living years, to “not squander Time; for that’s the Stuff Life is made of” (as Ben Franklin put it). Stuffing a blog post chock full of quotes is no way to write though, is it? ChatGBT could probably summarize all of my posts into one grand idea, and perhaps one day soon I’ll accept that challenge. But for now you’ve got the single content of a guy finding his way in the world, just as you are and everyone else is, even those people who say they have it all figured out (don’t ever believe them).

      I’m pondering that elusive re-design of the blog, finally implementing the things I’d envisioned all along, finally re-introducing email subscriptions and a more elegant reader experience. Then again, I’m pondering finally pulling that novel out of forever draft form and doing something with it (the Muse gave up on this project long ago). Then again, I’m thinking about doubling down on work and really making the next five years something special. And then again, I’m thinking about just renting a cabin in a remote corner of Labrador and watching the Northern Lights all winter (at least until the polar bears eat me). Such is the thing with then agains: they keep on coming up.

      Then again, and at the very least, fill this particular time bucket with the stuff that makes the most sense for now. Make something special out of the work that resonates for you, or get off your complacent behind and go find work that feels special. Then again, go use the body your blessed with in this moment for all that you can get out of it. If we’re lucky our minds will be with us until the end, but our health could go at any time.

      Doesn’t everything die at last, and too soon?
      Tell me, what is it you plan to do
      with your one wild and precious life?
      —Mary Oliver, The Summer Day

      This is the season. It’s not or never for some of those essential experiences. Go dance with life, and make it a song you really love. I’ll do the same. Carpe diem and all that. Let me remind myself and you if you care to listen: some day we’ll run out of thens, so once again, seize the day.

    • Push and Pull

      “Pull the string and it will follow wherever you wish. Push it, and it will go nowhere at all.” — Dwight D. Eisenhower

      Motivation is a pull. It is something that is internal that fuels you, that drives you.” — Julie Gurner, Dr. Julie Gurner (Part 1): Caring Deeply, Challenging Directly [The Knowledge Project Ep. #169]

      Lately I’ve been pushing myself to finish a few projects that have been mocking me for not completing them. Mountains to hike, work projects to finish, customers to meet with. I find in each case that the self talk isn’t supportive encouragement but sternly disciplinarian: “Do it already!” instead of “Isn’t this a great time to finish?” And shockingly, I find the mountains aren’t being hiked, the projects are stalled, and certain customers aren’t getting the face time they need. The push isn’t working all that well.

      I used to go to the dentist anticipating the lecture about flossing more. One day I decided to add it to my habit tracker as a box to fill in each day of every month, and thus forever. I’ve found that I haven’t missed a day since then, and my dentist is a lot happier with me as a result. Is this a push, not missing a day, or a pull? I think the latter. I’m drawn to streaks, and make it a point to mark as many days as possible before missing one. Flossing is an easy habit, writing is more time-consuming, yet I write this blog every day no matter what. Some days it may be a small post, and on some particularly challenging days it may likely be a post not fully fleshed out yet, but damn it there’s a blog post sitting here every day. When I miss the morning it calls to me every moment until I finish it. That’s a pull.

      Eisenhower was a great leader because he believed in leading from the front. You pull your team up and over obstacles and challenges, you don’t get great long term results when you push them. Lead by example. The old adage “do as I say, not as I do” rings true because we all quickly see the fallacy of trying to follow someone pushing from behind. It’s the same with bosses and coaches as it is with generals. Show you’re invested and we’ll follow you anywhere.

      Another old adage, “follow your passion”, is often dismissed as unrealistic in a world where the bills need to be paid and there are only so many passion jobs to go around. Yet it rings true. We do our best work when we’re drawn to it. We go through the motions when we feel it a chore. Flossing was a chore until it became a game of never breaking the streak. Writing was an unfulfilled dream until it became a daily mission. You probably have a few things that pull you equally hard, saying, “This is the way.”

      It’s not in our best interest to be frivolous with all that attracts us—there are habits and behaviors that clearly shouldn’t be followed at all. But the underlying draw ought to be examined. Why are we drawn this way? What is the root positive within this pull that will help in my development? Put another way, is this a good habit worth following, or a bad habit that feels good in the moment? Choose wisely and check the right boxes. Forget the push; seek the pull.

    • This is Bliss

      “I believe that happiness is, it’s really a default state. It’s what’s there when you remove the sense that something is missing in your life. We are highly judgmental, survival, and replication machines. We are constantly walking around thinking I need this, I need that, trapped in the web of desires. Happiness is that state when nothing is missing. When nothing is missing, your mind shuts down and your mind stops running into the future or running into the past to regret something or to plan something. In that absence for a moment, you have internal silence. When you have internal silence, then you are content and you are happy.” — Naval Ravikant, Naval Ravikant: The Angel Philosopher (2017) [The Knowledge Project Ep. #171]

      I have people in my life who believe that I’m not happy deep down inside because I’m not out there chasing my professed dreams in the world. I contend that I’m just as happy taking a walk around the block as I am visiting some faraway place I’ve had on some bucket list. Happiness is a state we are either in or not in, based entirely on how we view the moment. My default, thankfully, is a state of happiness. That doesn’t mean I don’t stray into the desire for more—we all do that on occasion (and some of us dare to write about it). That desire for more disrupts our current state, upsetting the apple cart of happiness. Sometimes that’s necessary for growth, and sometimes it’s nothing but a distraction from the moment. Either way it’s a state change.

      I’ve been chasing a state change all of my life. Maybe you have as well. But nowadays I’m less into chasing and more into embracing the current state. Writing and creative output bring me to the moment very quickly. I walk and row more, which each lend themselves to being present for the next step or stroke, respectively. I’m equally present in the garden: when I’m dead-heading the geraniums or pulling weeds I’m very much in the moment. This is a state of presence the arrival in the internal silence Naval speaks of. This is bliss.

      The thing is, when we’re declaring our desire to travel or experience something outside of the moment we’re in, we’ve noticed something missing. In doing so, we’re missing the moment. If comparison is the thief of joy, then comparing our current state against some future or past state where we are somewhere else is a happiness remover. Sometimes we might need that kick in the ass: I’m moving more because I was unhappy being lazy and inactive. By being active again I’ve rediscovered a level of happiness that wasn’t there before. But if I start comparing my active body of today against that active body of peak fitness at 22, I may find my happiness knocked down a notch. All that really matters is the next step, the next stroke, and knowing this is the path for us now.

      Direction matters a great deal in reaching bliss, but it doesn’t infer we’ve reached our destination, only that we’re progressing there. We must remember that “there” is just a compass heading. Here is where living happens.

    • The Thing About Food Blogs

      “Songwriting is a really intimate experience, it’s kind of like sitting down with a stranger and telling them every secret of your soul…you have to be not afraid to make a fool of yourself.” — Madonna

      I love great food as much as anyone. And I love writing this blog, and have managed to do it every day for a long time now. But generally my days of writing about the best fish and chips in the world are over. I just want to focus on bigger things, thank you.

      I write this just after experiencing back-to-back meals worthy of writing about. Incredible Greek food worthy of several posts, and a perfect New Jersey bagel and cream cheese that stands up with the many amazing bagel places in the region. As a New Englander I can bow to the Metro New York region on certain foods. Just don’t talk to me about their clam chowder.

      The thing about food blogs is that they’re generally uncontroversial. You write about a great meal, take a few pictures and move on with your life. It’s also a great way to gain some followers in the wonderful and passionate world of food. And you don’t tend to have family and friends asking you pointed questions about when you’re going to do the things you say you want to do in your blog (nobody has all the answers: a blog is a forum for sorting things out). There are few things less less enjoyable than explaining a blog post to someone with a stake in the game you’re playing in the real world.

      Perhaps the answer is to have multiple blogs, writing about travel, food, philosophy, poetry and history in distinct blog buckets. Perhaps even anonymously. But really, that’s not what this particular blog is. It’s a bit of everything in a world that is much bigger than the writer trying to take it all in. It will remain as it is, as will I, and the chips will fall where they may. Still, I love a great meal.

    • Facing the Storm

      There’s a metaphor that’s easy to find on the Internet if you Google it about the difference between cows and bison. When a storm is approaching, cows huddle together and run away from the storm. The problem with this is they end up running with the storm, thus prolonging their discomfort. A bison, on the other hand, runs into the storm, facing the discomfort of it head-on, and in doing so, the storm soon passes over them and shortens the duration of their discomfort. The lesson, of course, is to face the storm.

      One of the leaders of the company I work for told this story to a couple of us, and it fit his personality perfectly. When it comes to the tumultuous change needed to grow our company, not only is he facing it head-on and charging, he’s asking everyone around him to be a bison instead of a cow. In our moments of discomfort we must choose whether to face it or try to retreat from it.

      It’s likely most people don’t change because they don’t like the feeling of discomfort associated with beginning—of facing the storm. I’m currently walking around with an abundance of lactic acid and a reawakened creaky ankle, all from the combination of beginning to walk longer distances again and rowing much more than I had been. This state change has created discomfort that will eventually fade as my body adapts. We’ve all felt this, and we know where it leads if we stay on track. Most people retreat from discomfort instead of pushing through. Be the bison instead.

      It’s fair to ask ourselves just what it is that we’re charging into. Is this a storm we want to face? But we know deep down that change is coming either way. Pay me now or pay me later: this is true with everything we do in our lives, whether getting in shape, getting ahead in our career or managing our relationships. You can’t just hide from storms, you’ve got to face them head-on and get through them. To do otherwise is to prolong the discomfort. So get to it already.

    • Searching for the Marvelous

      “Ordinary life does not interest me. I seek only the high moments. I am in accord with the surrealists, searching for the marvelous. I want to be a writer who reminds others that these moments exist; I want to prove that there is infinite space, infinite meaning, infinite dimension.
      But I am not always in what I call a state of grace. I have days of illuminations and fevers. I have days when the music in my head stops. Then I mend socks, prune trees, can fruits, polish furniture. But while I am doing this I feel I am not living.” — Anais Nin

      “The secret of a full life is to live and and be open to others as if tomorrow they might not be there as if you might not be there. This eliminates the vice of procrastination, the sin of putting things off, the missed communions.” — Anais Nin

      I’m often accused of talking to everyone—this is often true—for in each of us there’s a story worth discovering. Every now and then you discover magic, sparked by interest. These are the high moments I believe Anais Nin was seeking as well. She seemed a woman I’d have loved to have met. Forget for a moment her fame for writing erotica, she just seemed so damned interesting. We must each find the fascinating things about living and bring it to the world. When you meet someone equally compelled to discover, the space between us erupts in wonder. You don’t have to take your clothes off for that to happen.

      There are moments when I feel the infinite meaning, when I feel the marvelous. You sense these things all around you when you’re attuned to discovery. It might be something as exhilarating as travel or as commonplace as gardening: I’ve found it in waterfalls deep in the forest and in the crashing surf seen from high on a cliffside trail in western Portugal. These are to be expected, and the compelling reason why we seek out such places. But I’ve also found it hiding in plain sight in my backyard garden, in the scent of tomato vines on a hot summer day. It’s all around you when you look for it.

      The trick is to be open to experiences. Find possibility in the circumstance we’ve stumbled into. These occasions are fleeting at best, and gone in an instant. To be fully alive is to tune in to everything around us and savor its sweetness in its season. For this is also our season, and we may never pass this way again. Carpe diem. Let’s not waste another moment.

    • A Hunger for Eternity

      “Certainly there is within each of us a self that is neither a child, nor a servant of the hours. It is a third self, occasional in some of us, tyrant in others. This self is out of love with the ordinary; it is out of love with time. It has a hunger for eternity.” — Mary Oliver, Upstream: Selected Essays

      We wrestle with the ordinary, biding our time for moments of blissful vibrancy. In a creative lifespan that is so very brief, what is it about time that has such a hold on us? This third self Oliver describes, and which many of us know to be true, must feel the urgency of the moment and scramble where it might lead us. Doesn’t our creative work lead us out of our fragile self into something more eternal? We don’t have to reach mastery to feel this, but we do need to be present with our work and giving the best of ourselves in that moment.

      “The most regretful people on earth are those who felt the call to creative work, who felt their own creative power restive and uprising, and gave to it neither power nor time.” — Mary Oliver, Upstream: Selected Essays

      We must jealously protect our time, that we may do something with it. To be productive with it, whatever that means to each of us. We only have so much life force in the well, so make it matter.

      “Dost thou love life? Then do not squander Time; for that’s the Stuff Life is made of.”— Benjamin Franklin, Poor Richard’s Almanack

      Lately I’ve been accused of giving my time to others who desperately need it. We all need it, of course, for time is all we have. We must always ask ourselves what we give up for the life we say yes to. Would this time be better served in service to our art, or to our loved ones? To our careers or ourselves? These are decisions with consequences. For what will become of us next? Giving isn’t squandering, not when we give it freely. Yet we must give time to the other stuff that calls for our attention.

      There are reasons I write early in the morning. It’s mostly because it’s the only time I can claim as my own. Let them all sleep, as lovely and essential they may be, and leave me to my work. The rest of the day will be yours. Just as soon as I click publish once again. Is this enough to satiate the muse? Let’s hope not. But it’s enough for now.

    • Experiencing More “Ought to Do’s”

      Lately, my personal quest to stack memories seems to be paying off. Scheduled experiences this year have been notable and surely memorable, but so too have the family cookouts, early morning plunges into the pool and evenings throwing axes or on a lake with friends. These are things we ought to do more often, we tell ourselves, and then we never seem to do them very often at all. Best to put it on the calendar. Or forget the calendar altogether and just do it now.

      Our perspective on what ought to be done changes over time. Some people rise up to become far more important investments in our time than others. Likewise, some activities do the same. Lately I’ve had everything from pickle ball to scuba diving dangled in front of me as things we ought to do. It all sounds fun. Find me the time. Take, for example, hiking. I’m still trying to get in more hiking time. I’m not like some other friends that prioritize it every weekend, with a nod to them for making it so. No, I’m an acknowledged casual hiker chipping away at a list of peaks I’d like to hike in the near future. When it isn’t scheduled, it simply gets pushed down the stack.

      And what of that stack? Life is full of trade-offs, and each yes is a no to something else. In the end there will be far more “no’s” than “yes’s”, so we must choose wisely. Living an active and meaningful life is taking those most important “ought to do’s” and prioritizing them immediately. Sometimes urgency matters a great deal more than at other times, when we play the long game. Some experiences simply won’t be around next time; we may never pass this way again. They say that everything has its time. At least until we’re out of it.

      There are two lenses with which to determine what to choose: Our fitness and how meaningful the experience is. Regarding fitness: will we be able to do this in five or ten or twenty years, or is this one of those things we ought to do now? If you want to run a marathon or hike the Appalachian Trail, you’re better off doing it sooner than later. But there also has to be meaning to what we do. We aren’t nihilists, we’ve got a soul that speaks to us in the quiet moments, looking for something more than a good time.

      Contemplation and reflection have a place in our lives, which is why writing is another “ought to do” that I’ve managed to do every day for almost five years now. Clicking publish and sending these blog posts out into the wild, where everyone or nobody will read them, is important for me. The goal has never been to become a wildly successful blogger (thank goodness), but to become a better writer. If there’s an obvious side benefit, I get to communicate regularly with people invested in what I might have to say. Thanks for that. It also prompts me to seek out more experiences, that the writing isn’t just a repository of philosophy notes and collected poetry.

      There are a lifetime of experiences waiting for us, should we find the time to have them. Is it audacious to expect more than we’ve currently got? Clearly—but who else is going to advocate for such experiences? We must each determine who we want to be and set out to go be it. Adding more “ought to do’s” to our days is a lifetime mission. This isn’t bucket list fare, it’s setting out every day to raise the bar on what we experience. Accumulated, this makes for a more exceptional life than we might have otherwise.