Alexandersmap

    Category: Writing

    • Every Morning, So Far, I’m Alive

      “Every morning I walk like this around
      the pond, thinking: if the doors of my heart
      ever close, I am as good as dead

      Every morning, so far, I’m alive.  And now
      the crows break off from the rest of the darkness
      and burst up into the sky – as though

      all night they had thought of what they would like
      their lives to be, and imagined
      their strong, thick wings.”
       – Mary Oliver, Landscape

      I’m doing Mary Oliver an injustice not putting the entire poem here, for the full meaning of a poem comes from reading the entirety, but then again I’m pointing emphatically towards all of her work, imploring you to read more.  When I first read this poem, Landscape, it was a gut punch for me.  I’ve returned to it a few times and these lines still grab me, for they perfectly capture the frame of mind I’m in in my own life.  It’s not lost on me that Mary Oliver passed away in 2019, and somewhere along the way that may have been how I found and keep returning to her work.

      2019 has been a profound year of growth and change for me, from stoicism to spirituality to poetry, immersive trips to some places close to home and some bucket list travel to places further away.  There’s friction in me that the writing has revealed, whether that’s mid-life nonsense or creeping unfinished business that gnaws at me, disrupting my day-to-day thoughts.  I’ve become a better person this year, but know there’s a long way to go still.  For as much as there is to be grateful for, Memento mori whispers in the wind, and I can hear it more than ever.  Remember, we all must die…  but every morning, so far, I’m alive.  What shall you do with this gift?  More, I say to myself, and this De Mello challenge comes to mind:

      “People don’t live, most of you, you don’t live, you’re just keeping the body alive.  That’s not life.” – Anthony De Mello

      This isn’t a call to leave all that you’ve built, but instead to be fully alive and aware of the world around you.  Break off from the rest of the darkness and be fully alive.  Thoreau didn’t leave Concord, he immersed himself in the world at Walden Pond but still maintained contact with the people in his life.  But his awareness grew in the stillness.

      “Be it life or death, we crave only reality.  If we are really dying, let us hear the rattle in our throats and feel cold in the extremities; if we are alive, let us go about our business…  Time is but the stream I go a-fishing in.  I drink at it; but while I drink I see the sandy bottom and detect how shallow it is.  Its thin current slides away, but eternity remains.” – Henry David Thoreau, Walden

      So I’m doing better at this awareness thing, and this making the most of the time you have thing, and I keep flapping the wings and fly when I can.  Life isn’t just stacking one adventure upon another one, real living is immersion and awareness.  Mary Oliver joined De Mello and Thoreau on the other side of life this year, this very year that I’ve made a few leaps forward in being more alive.  Maybe adding her voice to the chorus of whispers from those who have left us was the tipping point, or maybe I was already there.  But I’m grateful for her contribution nonetheless.

    • All The Mind’s Ghosts

      “The intelligent and the brave
      Open every closet in the future and evict
      All the mind’s ghosts who have the bad habit
      Of barfing everywhere.”
      – Hafiz, The Warrior

      “You’ll see the miracles that happen to you when your senses come unclogged.” – Anthony De Mello, Awareness

      A month ago I had one of those head colds that just gums up the works, making it hard to focus on anything.  I caught it in London, carried it in Scotland and then back to New Hampshire with me.  You carry on in circumstances like that, but you know you’re not playing your A game.  Perceptions, mistakes, past glories, biases and self-limiting beliefs are like that head cold; holding you back and keeping you from doing things for too long or forever.

      I’ll confess I’d never heard of Anthony De Mello until this book was mentioned on a podcast, but it’s one of the most profound books I read this year, and I keep pulling quotes out of it.  They say when the student is ready the teacher will appear, and this year I’ve been heavily invested in my education.  And I think it comes back to the writing.  You commit to writing daily, and sometimes you’re writing about some woman in a kimono or a battle that took place where you stood that day, but other times you mine the mind, clearing away years of crap and dig deep for the good stuff.  Maybe it comes across in the writing, or maybe I’m not there yet, but I feel the improvement and the refinement that comes with daily discipline.

      The rest of that Hafiz poem is worth reading, and I thought of posting the entire thing, but instead added a link to it.  Hafiz put a spotlight on my own ghosts, barfing away in the mind, needing to be evicted.  We all need to clean out the past, stop planning for a future we may not see and live in the now.  Easier said than done of course.  And it doesn’t mean to ignore the past and not learn from it.  Nor does it mean to ignore the future.  To live in the moment is to eliminate the concerns of the past and the worries of the future.  We’re all going to the grave one day, but if we’re lucky maybe not today.  So given the blessing of being alive in this moment, why not make the most of it?

    • Chess Boards and Calendars

      The chess board and the calendar are one and the same.  

      For each demands strategy and each is a game,

      of reaction and discipline and boldness in kind.

      I marvel at masters, 

      while struggling to keep more than two moves in mind

      I marvel at poets as well, for my words betray me as a clydesdale and my words as poetry on the fly.  So be it – not every dance is a tango.  Back to the topic at hand, the similarities between the chess board and the calendar.  I win my share of chess matches, but I find my vision of the board betrays me at times.  I focus so much on my own moves that I don’t always see the threat lurking on the other side.  But I know sometimes I can overcome a threat, while strategically making a noble sacrifice, with action towards my objective.  Chess and the calendar do demand reaction and discipline and boldness, and I try to play both with equal grace, but still struggle with each.  We never master the game of chess, just as we never master the calendar.

      I look at the moves I’ve made with time over the last twelve months, and know that I’ve made some moves I regret, but also many that I’m quite pleased with.  2019 is a year of brilliant highlights mixed with some real duds, which makes it like just about every year I’ve been on the planet.  We build the calendar and hope for the best.  I can stand back and see myself in the beginning of a pivot, but the direction I’m pivoting isn’t entirely clear yet.  So I press on, filling the calendar with necessary meetings and positive habits that offer incremental growth.  A few have paid off, a few have been complete failures, and a few are just in the embryonic stage and need a bit of nurturing to grow.  Such is life; we never look like what we once were when we grow.

      Playing chess last night against the computer instead of a human, I felt bored and was going through the motions.  Passing the time.  That’s a great time to walk away from something when that something doesn’t move you towards a place you need to be, and I finished the game and turned off the computer.  Life is too short to play boring games, and chess had lost its luster for me for the moment.  In some ways the calendar has too, and it’s a wake-up call to see where the calendar is taking me and start filling it with more things that get me where I’m going.  Wherever that may be. Boldness has genius, power, and magic in it, as the saying goes.  As in chess, stop being distracted by reactionary moves and be more bold.  Better still, weave a little more magic into the calendar.  Ready?

       

    • Telling Stories

      “No story lives unless someone wants to listen.” – J.K. Rowling

      There are two ways to look at this Rowling quote. There’s the story we try to sell to the audience – read my blog or my book, buy my product or service, hire me for the job, let’s do lunch… whatever. The story we tell others to persuade them to invest time, attention or money into what we’re offering. But there’s also the story we tell ourselves, “I am a writer”, “I am here to help others”, “I am a rainmaker”, that ultimately has to come first. If you don’t believe your own story how can you expect others to buy into it?

      I was thinking about a George Mack Twitter thread on high agency that’s stuck with me for since I read it a year ago. Here are the key points from that thread:

      “High Agency is a sense that the story given to you by other people about what you can/cannot do is just that – a story.
      And that you have control over the story.
      High Agency person looks to bend reality to their will.
      They either find a way, or they make a way.

      Low agency person accepts the story that is given to them.
      They never question it.
      They are passive.
      They outsource all of their decision making to other people.

      If in doubt, ask yourself, what would Wetzler do?
      1. Question everything
      2. Bend reality
      3. Never outsource your decision making”

      (Alfred Wetzler was a prisoner who escaped Auschwitz and helped bring awareness to what was happening there).

      Pushing myself to become more high agency, less low agency has been a mission ever since.  What story am I telling myself?  That I’m someone that gets things done, or someone who falls in line and does what is expected of me?  In general I’m proactive in reaching out to others, tackling projects (high agency) but tend to stall when I hit roadblocks (low agency).  In general I follow the rules of the game (low agency), but what if the rules aren’t really there in the first place?  Everything in social life is a construct, so why not construct my own life?  That’s high agency, and a better story than passively going through life as a cog in someone else’s story line.

      And so I’m pushing myself more in my career (which requires high agency thinking), and I’m writing more out of my comfort zone, and questioning other things in my life that I might have let slide before.  This bending reality to my will thing seems arrogant on the surface, but that’s passive thinking, isn’t it?  I have plenty of examples of people in my life bending reality to their will who I wouldn’t call arrogant, but instead adventurous and bold.  And who doesn’t want their main character to be adventurous and bold?

      The thing about high agency living is that it builds on itself.  You start with one bold question, push back a little and go in a different direction and it changes you.  Do it again and you change a little more.  Pretty soon you have momentum on your side and step-by-step eventually you’re living audaciously.  And that’s a story I’d like to see more of.

       

    • White As Snow

      (Reposting this from December 7 after it reverted to a draft for some reason)

      A few days ago I said let it snow, and 1200 miles of driving in it constantly across the middle and Southern Tier of New York and through Massachusetts and New Hampshire I regret not being more specific in my statement. Lake Effect snow made Upstate New York a snow globe, and bands of snow stayed with me all the way back. Slushy roads and slippery when wet caution cones mocked my dress shoes the entire week, and I deserved the mockery for leaving my boots and waterproof hiking shoes sitting in the car instead of on my feet. I know better but slipped and slid my way along anyway. Common sense did not prevail in footwear this week.

      Still, there’s nothing like fresh snow on a sunny morning, and I can finally pause long enough to appreciate it. It’s a stark background that pushes things that normally recede into the background forward. Hillsides of gray and black tree trunks rolled in waves alongside me for much of the week. Back home with the sun unmasked for the first time in a week, I watch the dance of illumination and shadow as sunbeams find their way through the woods with no leaves to block them as they explore. Puffs of snow drift of branches, stirred by the wind, mixing with rays of light and remind me the woods are never still, even after snowfall. Looking deeper into the woods squirrels scurry about, puffy gray tails bouncing all the while, in search of food hidden under the snow. Birds zip to the feeder and back to cover, always watchful for hawks and neighborhood cats. I wonder at the performance as my indoor cat snacks me with her tail, yearning to be free of the glass keeping her from the hunt.

      Those birds demand attention, and I count dozens moving in turns to the feeder. Food brings life to the stark backyard of winter, and it enlivens this cat’s tail as I write. Empty mug and stomach are looking for attention to, and this writing session comes to an end. The empty page soon filled with words, like tree trunks on a snowy hill, and I’m grateful for the inspiration.

    • The Encouragement of Light

      I’ve come late to Hafiz, and that both saddens and delights me. Three writers I’m following separately pointed me towards his poetry, and I finally woke up and paid attention. Where was that attention all those years when Hafiz was right there all the time? But that’s the way life is in all things. Writing came to me late too, even though I knew it was there waiting. So instead of sadness I delight in the discovery:

      “How

      Did the rose

      Ever open its heart

      And give to this world

      All its

      Beauty?

      It felt the encouragement of light

      Against its

      Being,

      Otherwise,

      We all remain

      Too

      Frightened.”

      – Hafiz, It Felt Love

    • My Holy Trinity of Habits

      Walking 10,000 steps a day doesn’t make the scale move much, but the walking offers benefits beyond incremental movement of the scale. Writing a blog every day doesn’t move the needle much on reader count or followers, but the writing has changed me in ways I hadn’t anticipated. Reading books every day seems elementary on the surface, but it’s amazing how quickly distractions conspire against you. As we near the end of the year and decade, I’m thinking about current streaks I’m on, and recommitting for as long as I can control the future.

      10,000 steps is my oldest and most current objective. I’ve been a walker since I was a kid, well before people thought about how many steps you walked in a day. Actually tracking it came late in life, right about when we got a dog. I’d tracked rowing and how many reps I did, but walking? Not until I started sitting for long periods of time for work. My current streak is only six days, but I’ve doubled down on my commitment to 10K per day. This week I’ve done that walking in three states, on rail trails, on the beach, in the neighborhood at night and, gulp, on the treadmill. Last night I walked 90 minutes while reading just to check a box. Today I hope to get there without using electricity.

      I committed to reading every day last year, and have managed to do so even when social media, long drives and work commitments made it challenging. How? By reading first thing in the morning before I do anything else. I used to exercise first, but my body needs a little time to wake up beforehand, and the reading and writing filled right in. To keep the reading streak alive I’ve got to read at least a couple of pages to “count”, but almost always ready many more. As we approach the end of the year it’s spiked even higher.

      No streak has meant more than the writing streak, which began over a year ago. I’ve written and posted on this blog every day this year and plan to keep this streak going. You might fancy yourself a writer but if you aren’t doing it then you’re a dreamer. I’m tired of telling myself stories. Blogging has brought me to places I’d never have been, as I look for interesting things to write about. Reading obviously compliments this, and so too does walking. While 10K hasn’t always been achieved I do walk every day. It’s the Holy Trinity for me, reading, writing and walking. Each reinforces the other, and I grow as a result. Other habits come and go, but these three offer a lifetime of service. So as I post this I’m 2/3 through my daily habits. I’d better getting moving on number three…

    • Beach Sand Reset

      This was one of the most unproductive mornings I’ve had in some time.  I wrote and deleted two blog posts because they were crap.  Work slid sideways and never got back on the runway.  Out of sorts with just about everything this morning.  These things happen, and I tried working through it for awhile…  with limited success.  So I decided to take a walk at lunch, and decided it had been too long since I’ve walked the beach on Plum Island.  Walking on the beach is great any time of year, but my favorite time is winter.  I saw three people and two dogs the entire walk, benefiting greatly in my isolation for walking in the middle of a work day in winter.  But that’s why I went there.

      The surf was up, offering a wonderful soundtrack to compliment the rhythmic swish, swish of my feet marching across damp, cold sand.  The beach is a traveling art show, with sand sculptures carved by the wind and waves moving from place to place, always different from the last exhibit.  Snow from last night clumped in patches here and there with greatest success on driftwood and the dune grass.  Tiny sand ridges formed from receding waves created Etch A Sketch-like graffiti on the beach; here in this moment, but gone with the wind and high tide.  Driftwood and sea glass and millions of shells mixed into the sand, clumped into patterns by the previous high tide.  I continued my march with purpose, aiming for the Mouth of the Merrimack River.  This was about a 2 1/2 mile round trip, which fit in with the amount of time I had while serving as a good workout with the give of the sand.

      I came across a child’s footprints in the sand running in circles, as children do, going this way and that; directionless.  And I thought to myself, that’s what brought me to the beach today too.  I’d begun the day with high hopes, got distracted by figuring out the logistics of getting from here to the tropics with no real time to work with, and found myself spiraling into a completely unproductive morning.  So the beach was a reset, a chance to clear my head and figure things out.  Ten year plans that break into what am I doing next week kind of thinking.  And some of that got done, but mostly I checked another 10K box and regained my focus on writing.  And when I got back to my work settled back into a groove with that too.  Good things happen when you get outside.  And when outside is a quiet beach all the better.

    • Force of Fortune

      “The true joy in life is to be a force of fortune instead of a feverish, selfish little clod of ailments and grievances complaining that the world will not devote itself to making you happy.” – George Bernard Shaw

      I’ve used this quote to challenge myself a few times over the years. Shaw didn’t mince words here, he’s telling all of us to step up and take control of our lives instead of whining about how unfair the world is. Ultimately the world doesn’t owe us anything and the more time you spend blaming it the less time you have to do what must be done.

      Here we are on the evening of December 8th with 22 days and a few hours left in 2019. By all accounts a great year, and yet so much left to do. Goals unmet, weight not lost, business still parked on the table instead of in the books, pages unwritten, and so on. This is a good time to pull Shaw’s quote out of storage and take the kick in the backside he offers. Do what you need to do and don’t complain about the stacked deck, for others have it worse and do more. Don’t be a selfish little clod, get to work and be grateful for the opportunity. Be a force of fortune already.

    • A Healthy March To 100

      Watching my father and other older people in my life struggle with brain health has been a wake-up call for me.  I’ve been too complacent in what I put in my mouth, and I’ve been adjusting my dietary intake over the last few months as a corrective measure.  There are three things that I’m most concerned about as I get older: Brain health, heart health and avoiding cancer as long as possible on my march to 100.  We can’t control everything, but we can control what we eat and drink.  So with that in mind, there are the foods that most experts agree improve your overall health and resilience, and the foods that are harmful to your health.  It seems simple to adjust the menu accordingly.

      “Good” foods include fatty cold water fish like salmon, blue fish and sardines, blueberries, green leafy vegetables like kale and spinach, extra virgin olive oil, avocados, eggs, seeds and nuts and dark chocolate(!).  Wash it all down with lots of water, coffee and tea and some red wine in moderation.  Hey!  This is pretty much my diet already!  Easy, right?

      “Bad” foods include french fries, hot dogs and hamburgers, donuts, cheese, refined carbs like white rice and foods associated with high mercury like tuna.  Wash this toxic mix down with soft drinks (either regular or diet) and alcohol and you’re asking for trouble…..   I have work to do on this one. I dropped all sugar drinks and largely avoid artificial sweeteners, but tuna, bacon, burgers and cheese are tough subtractions. Making them a rare treat instead of a regular part of the menu is a good step forward.

      The x factor is exercise and sleep.  I used to pride myself on working on five hours of sleep.  No longer.  I sleep until I wake up, and I’m not shy about going to bed earlier than everyone else in the house.  I like getting up early, I just need to go to bed earlier to make up for it.  Exercise is the one that misses the mark too often for me, and it’s the one I’m focused on most now.  Walk, row, hike, bike and swim.  Those are my favorite exercises, and they all lend themselves to better health.  But listening to a Tim Ferriss podcast with Peter Attia woke me up.  Attia talked about the “Centennial Olympics”, which for him means being healthy enough to lift a great-grandchild or get up off the floor by yourself when you’ve been playing with them.  Dial that back factoring in the decline in strength and muscle mass that comes naturally with aging, and he’s figured out the amount he has to do now as a late 40’s active adult to build the endurance necessary to get there.  Interesting…  As someone who casually states that I’ll live to be 100 as a target number (knowing fate may intervene), wouldn’t it be good for me to get there healthy in mind and body?  What’s the point of living to 100 if you don’t really live when you get there?

      Nothing keeps the mind sharp like daily work, and I’m pushing myself with more diverse reading, travel, writing more, playing chess, picking back up on French and learning other new skills. Writing daily established the habit, and refined the skill. Reading opens my mind to new ideas from the greatest minds in history. Travel offers new perspective on living. And the rest just keeps the mind challenged in different ways. If nothing else I have more to talk about at parties.

      So I’m exercising the mind, modifying the diet, drinking more water, getting more sleep and prioritizing daily exercise. Will it get me to 100 healthy and sharp? Only time will tell, but it’s a better way to live anyway, and who doesn’t want to be more vibrant, engaged and active now, the only time guaranteed to us?

      Slàinte Mhath!