Alexandersmap

    Category: Writing

    • Going Further

      “All people, no matter who they are, all wish they’d appreciated life more. It’s what you do in life that’s important, not how much time you have or what you wished you’d done.” — David Bowie

      “If you feel safe in the area you’re working in, you’re not working in the right area. Always go a little further into the water than you feel you’re capable of being in. Go a little bit out of your depth. And when you don’t feel that your feet are quite touching the bottom, you’re just about in the right place to do something exciting.” — David Bowie

      How did you spend your time in the last 24 hours? Did you find yourself out of your depth? Someplace exciting? I hope so. My own time was spent digging a ditch for a drainage pipe, and then filling it in again. And I tried a new way to cook bone-in pork chops and corn on the cob. On the surface, none of this is particularly exciting, but it was all unique experience compared to the norm. Life is about trying new things to see what we’re capable of, after all. Sometimes those new things seem pretty mundane.

      The point is to do more things out of our comfort zone. I’ll never be a rock star, but I’ll keep trying new things in this lifetime. I can confirm that 26 meters of ditch digging teaches you a few things about yourself. There was always going to be sweat equity paid this weekend, whether a hike or a long walk on the beach. Both of those sound a lot better than digging that ditch, but I’ve done each many times in my life. The ditch informed. And now that it’s done, I will take that labor with me to the next decision I make down the road.

      Choosing adventure and experience over the routine is a path towards a larger life. But so too is choosing the small challenges that everyday living presents to us. We won’t always be up on a stage with the spotlights on us, but we can all appreciate life a bit more. Doing more is the way.

      David Bowie might have been a rock & roll star, but he was also an avid reader, who would look around at all the books in his library mournfully, knowing he couldn’t possibly read them all in his lifetime. We all feel that way about something in this brief lifetime. All we can do is live with urgency and celebrate what we manage to get to in our days.

    • Putting It All Out There

      “If today’s social media has taught us anything about ourselves as a species, it is that the human impulse to share overwhelms the human impulse for privacy.” ― Kevin Kelly, The Inevitable: Understanding the 12 Technological Forces That Will Shape Our Future

      But all the promises we make
      From the cradle to the grave
      When all I want is you
      — U2, All I Want Is You

      They say that sharing is caring, but the twist is that the share is what we care about at all. Life is change, how we process that within ourselves is ours alone… until we share it. So much of what we think and feel becomes part of the collective with a click. What happens after the click is out of our control, but something is released from us anyway. We’ve put ourselves out there in a declaration of the moment and try to move on to the next.

      The reader is in a time machine, picking up where we left off and processing our unique stack of words into thought. Sometimes a comment coming back to me after something I’ve published throws me for a loop, and I need to re-read what I wrote to see who I was at the time. We’re each on our path to becoming, and who I’ve become after clicking publish is somewhat different than the person I was before.

      That timestamp of the moment isn’t trivial, for it’s a brief glimpse into our fragile lifetime. As the years go by, so do the moments. Is sharing a grasp for the elusive amber? We can’t be forever locked in any moment but through the media that carries on after us. Still, there’s a big difference between a journal and a blog post, isn’t there? Should there be?

      What compels us to share anything of ourselves at all? Do we need to clear space for our new identity? Are we leaving breadcrumbs for others who might be inclined to follow? Perhaps the very act of sharing of ourselves is integral to becoming whatever it is we’re moving towards. Each of us have our reasons—our why— for sharing that run beyond ourselves. This why is the puzzle in everything shared, to be discovered by others.

    • Keeping On

      I don’t want to wait anymore I’m tired of looking for answers
      Take me some place where there’s music and there’s laughter
      I don’t know if I’m scared of dying but I’m scared of living too fast, too slow
      Regret, remorse, hold on, oh no I’ve got to go
      There’s no starting over, no new beginnings, time races on
      And you’ve just gotta keep on keeping on
      — First Aid Kit, My Silver Lining

      At a work event this week I looked around the room at the characters in the play. I’ve known them all so long, and yet only know a few of them very well. Some of the older characters talk of retirement and moving on, some of the younger characters openly plot their next move. I don’t play either of those parts, yet I’m still in the game.

      Building something tangible in our lives is really nothing more than showing up every day and being an active player. Life is humbling and teaches us we can’t have it all, and some will have more than perhaps they deserve. There are things we simply can’t control in this world, yet so much we can influence when we apply energy and focus on what matters most.

      We know when we’re running hard. When we’re pushing ourselves into new places. And we know when we ease off more than we should. Life is this balance, lived on the tightrope of commitments and aspiration while the winds of change swirl around us. Putting one foot in front of the other is really the only way forward. Still, we must ask ourselves, are we moving in the right direction? When should we follow another line?

    • Begin Anew

      The warrior and the artist live by the same code of necessity, which dictates that the battle must be fought anew every day. — Steven Pressfield, The War of Art

      Very long days lend themselves to the notion of skipping things we promise ourselves we’ll do. Things like writing, for instance. But sometimes we must shake ourselves loose from this notion and remind ourselves that we have miles to go before we sleep. There are days when I’d rather sleep, to be honest. You may have those days too.

      Productivity and effectiveness are demanding dance partners. As active participants in the dance, our job is to show up and do our best, and try to do make it a little better than yesterday’s best. This constant improvement can’t go on forever, we know, but maybe just another day. We might tell ourselves this tomorrow too, but today will do for now.

      One day at a time, and then another still. The cadence becomes our identity, and the day feels empty without the work. I suppose that’s why they call it fulfilling.

    • Optimizing the Interval

      “Several hours or several years of waiting is all the same when you have lost the illusion of being eternal.” — Jean-Paul Sartre, The Wall

      “Those who are truly decrepit, living corpses, so to speak, are the middle-aged, middle-class men and women who are stuck in their comfortable grooves and imagine that the status quo will last forever or else are so frightened it won’t that they have retreated into their mental bomb shelters to wait it out.” — Henry Miller

      On the face of it, this pair of quotes might feel morbid and dark, but they’re simply pointing out the obvious. Memento mori: we all must die, so what will we do with the time left to us? We ought to make it something worthwhile. And so it is that at some point in our lives we truly recognize that someday our time will end. That moment of realization until the last moment of our lives is our interval. We owe it to our fragile selves to optimize that interval.

      Given the outcome, shouldn’t we stack as many healthy, fully vibrant and alive days into that interval as possible? Lean in to consistent exercise and good nutrition, that we might not one day surprisingly soon erode into a shell of ourselves. Read the great books now, that we might build our foundation stronger, and sit at the table of the greatest minds awaiting our arrival. Contribute something tangible in this world, not to be remembered, but to sustain the positive momentum the best of humanity offers. These are worthy goals for an interval as shockingly brief as this.

      Several hours or several years are just the same, friends, we must seize what flees.

    • The Courage for Course Corrections

      “Many people feel they are powerless to do anything effective with their lives. It takes courage to break out of the settled mold, but most find conformity more comfortable. This is why the opposite of courage in our society is not cowardice, it’s conformity.” — Rollo May (via Poetic Outlaws)

      Some of us have an internal wrestling match battling in our heads between what we could be doing and what we’re currently doing. Which tendency dominates, the call of the wild or the call to conformity? Surely, we can’t have it all, but we can find ways to lean into that which stirs our soul.

      Teaching ourselves that all is not lost by breaking free from expectations offers an off-ramp from the conformity highway. Micro-adventures demonstrate that we can do things we previously thought out of reach. You don’t sail around the world by buying a boat today and leaving tomorrow. There’s learning and work and sacrifice that go into that process, as friends on Fayaway have documented. Each day offers a lesson in what not to do, but it also highlights what is possible simply by changing our course a degree or two on the compass heading.

      A friend recently posted a picture of a group photo taken a long time ago, when we were all much younger versions of ourselves. One of those people in the photograph had never really hiked before, and every step was new for her. She flipped the script on that and is now one of the most consistently active hikers in New England. That reinvention happened slowly in those early days, but now there’s no stopping her.

      We hear stories of people like JK Rowling writing in cafe’s in Edinburgh, or Mark Dawson writing on the train while commuting back and forth from his previous day job. There’s nothing to this but setting out to do what we say we want to do. How much time do we waste in excuses? We’re simply a course correction away from living towards that dream. The very act of changing course and sticking with it takes courage, but habit soon takes over.

      “Every action you take is a vote for the type of person you wish to become. No single instance will transform your beliefs, but as the votes build up, so does the evidence of your new identity.”
      ― James Clear, Atomic Habits

      When we see the evidence all around us of personal transformation, shouldn’t it provoke courageous action in ourselves? Perhaps. But it’s easy to see that which we aspire to be and view the gap as too far. We forget that each transformation was once a small course correction on the compass, acted upon one day at a time, until identity and routine took over.

      It’s easy to declare what we’re going to do in our lifetime. It takes courage to actively choose the alternative path from that those we’re closest to expect us to take. It takes even more courage to teach ourselves to take that new path and to keep going on it until we find ourselves. But what are we here for but to find our why and to do something with that?

    • Mining for Gold

      “If you have a garden and a library, you have everything you need” — Cicero

      My attention comes back to the garden this time of year. It’s too soon for annuals, too early for most perennials, and my sinuses are reminding me that the cool air is filling up with pollen. We celebrate the great awakening of the garden and surrounding landscape, even with a few sniffles and sneezes to punctuate the season.

      I know a few things about awakening. I came into this world in April, so I mark the end and subsequent beginning of another trip around the sun this month. Take enough of those trips, and reinvent yourself enough times, and you begin to see patterns of behavior. Learning who we are is like reading the current in a river, finding the deepest channel and accelerating downstream towards our destiny.

      I mostly write in a home office with a solid library of books patiently awaiting discovery. There are books I’ve read many times and books I’ve told myself I’ll get to someday. For better or worse the convenience of a Kindle tends to dominate my reading selection nowadays. So why keep books at all? For the same reason I plant daffodils. Daffodils are planted once and reappear in your life regularly to punctuate the moment. Books tend to do the same. I’ve turned to my collection many times over the years since I’ve planted them on the shelf.

      What we plant in ourselves tends to grow. Will we amend our minds with rich content and labor, or simply lean into whatever other’s grow for us? Give me dirty fingernails thumbing through favorite books. We mine for gold in the garden and in the library. These are our days to dig deeply and plant that which will live beyond us.

      Daffodils

    • A Dip Towards the Immeasurable

      “Who knows what is beyond the known? And if you think that any day the secret of light might come, would you not keep the house of your mind ready? Would you not cleanse your study of all that is cheap, or trivial? Would you not live in continual hope, and pleasure, and excitement?” — Mary Oliver, Winter Hours

      I woke up much earlier than usual, mind still processing the noise of the previous few days, and reached for a familiar voice in Mary Oliver. In the quest to live a larger life, sometimes we find ourselves overloaded with responsibilities, frenzy and noise. Like a wave crashing on the beach, the chaos will recede but inevitably return again. Life is ebb and flow, and we must find a place of peace away from the churn. Meditation and prayer come in many forms, for me best found in nature, motion and poetry. We are at our best when we leave ourselves and focus on the universe instead. When we stay within ourselves we forget the connection.

      We’re forever walking in the churn, seeking reassurance and a clear path. Sometimes the answer is to step away from the madness, and sometimes we must wade deeper still, but we often won’t know for sure. Simply taking the next step is better than trying to stand still as our footing erodes beneath our feet. The universe respects active participation.

      “And as with prayer, which is a dipping of oneself toward the light, there is a consequence of attentiveness to the grass itself, and the sky itself, and to the floating bird. I too leave the fret and enclosure of my own life. I too dip myself toward the immeasurable.” — Mary Oliver, Winter Hours

      We tend to confuse the structure of organized religion for spirituality and purpose. There may be a net benefit to knowing the rules of the game, but we often lose sight of our reason for being in the game at all. Life is a brief dance with the light, the brilliance of which we barely understand when we step aside for the next dancer. We forget that we are all collectively a part of this lean into understanding. It will continue long after we’re gone. And so it is that what comes next is not for us to dwell on. Our attentiveness to now is all that really matters.

    • Analog and Delightful

      Change is good, but it can also be a pain in the ass. This is exemplified by the forced version upgrades Apple puts us through before we can resume our regularly scheduled activity. Microsoft has their own version of upgrade hell, and I’ve recently undergone the process of re-learning everything I thought I knew about Microsoft Office when I was issued a new laptop PC for work. There’s something to be said for pen and paper in this constantly changing world of technology.

      If I sound like an old dog, well, forgive me. I pride myself on keeping up, I just prefer choosing the time and place for when my world is turned upside down. Tech doesn’t work that way. Critical updates and staying a step ahead of the bad guys is paramount, and [sorry, but] f**k your feelings, friend. It’s not about us with tech, it’s about the greater good versus the underlying bad. Here we are, buttercup; embrace the suck. Amor fati.

      The thing we must accept is that the people building all these tech tools love to fiddle around with this Pandora’s box. The rest of us, simply wanting efficiency in our lives, are along for the ride. Once we’re on the ride, we’re on. Buckle up and mind your hands. No loose items allowed. Carpe diem.

      I’ve been telling myself that the blog site needs an upgrade for a long time now. While acknowledging that fact, I nonetheless avoid doing anything about it because there is pain associated with that change. Ah, yes, the excuses: I’ll have to learn new things and I don’t have time to learn right now. Re-designing the blog will be disruptive and inherently full of risk. All I really care about is writing and sharing that writing every day, what’s the point of a forklift upgrade on the web site?

      Sooner or later, we have to rip off the bandaid. Technology will continue to evolve to torture us, er, to make our lives easier. We must learn to keep pace. We aren’t old dogs, friends, we’re surfers riding the bleeding edge of technology wherever it takes us. As with most tech, it will end up in the recycling center, dusty and forgotten, soon enough. Memento mori. But that’s then, this is now. Just do it. Just remember to change your password to something impossible to remember, er, hack.

      One of the small joys I have each day is taking out my bullet journal and tracking my progress on tasks, streaks and long-term goals. It’s all so very analog and delightful. I like to think of myself as technologically savvy, but I’m just fooling myself. All this technology is a means to an end, the rest is just a game played by someone else’s rules. Give me simplicity. For deep down, I just want to be analog and delightful too.

    • All the Bees

      It’s all I have to bring today—
      This, and my heart beside—
      This, and my heart, and all the fields—
      And all the meadows wide—
      Be sure you count—should I forget
      Some one the sum could tell—
      This, and my heart, and all the Bees
      Which in the Clover dwell
      — Emily Dickinson, It’s all I have to bring today

      We are more than the best we can muster up in a day. The world is more. Surely, the universe too. And we are a part of it. Some days the magic finds us, some days it flows elsewhere. If we aren’t frivolous with our ration of magic, we might make it last just long enough to make something of the day.

      There is only so much magic to spread around on some rainy Mondays. And anyway, I wonder about all the bees. Who’s job is it to count them anyway? Maybe the same crew tasked with counting the number of coffee beans necessary for a pound of coffee. Measured just so, a proper ration of beans makes all the difference on mornings such as this one.

      It seems magic is all around us, and it’s not about finding it, the trick is to simply see it. It lingers in the clover, whispers in the rain, and gently nudges a nose at us when we aren’t paying enough attention. Be present, it reminds us, and the ration is yours. Be sure to share it.