Alexandersmap

    Tag: Awareness

    • Through and To

      “Let each of us examine his thoughts; he will find them wholly concerned with the past or the future. We almost never think of the present, and if we do think of it, it is only to see what light it throws on our plans for the future. The present is never our end. The past and the present are our means, the future alone our end. Thus we never actually live, but hope to live, and since we are always planning how to be happy, it is inevitable that we should never be so.” — Blaise Pascal, Pensées

      We are who we are, formed and beaten into our present identity by all that brought us here, and all that holds us here. That which holds us in place offers comfort or stirs resentment, depending on how we feel about where we might go next. We forget sometimes that we are still being carried to the future version of us in the present. That which holds us is mostly the past—that story of us and all that represents us. Maybe it’s just passing scenery on our road to find out, or maybe we’ve been building a foundation for that castle in the sky. The way we look at the past and present matters a great deal, for it colors our view of our future.

      Remember that old expression about the best time to plant a tree being twenty years ago, and the second best time being today? Twenty years ago is dead and gone. Nothing but memories that make us smile or hang our heads. Twenty years from now is nothing but a dream. Plant the seed of that dream today and nurture it towards whomever we may grow into. The roots are our past, anchoring us into something solid. The rest is growth and reaching for the sky. Our great-grandchildren will benefit from our dreams and schemes of today. So what bit of magic will we be our legacy to the future?

      The thing is, all of that is just words unless we shake ourselves free of the illusions of the past and dreams of the future and find awareness today. Each day is growing season for the body, mind and soul. Just what are we planting anyway? In the end, all we’ve ever had was today, growing through and to.

    • The First of That Which Comes

      “In rivers, the water that you touch is the last of what has passed, and the first of that which comes. So with time present.”

      “Observe the light. Blink your eye and look at it again. That which you see was not there at first, and that which was there is no more.”
      — Leonardo da Vinci, Codex Arundel

      Let’s talk of matters for a moment. What we did with our time that has passed matters, for it brought us here. And what happens here matters just as much for what happens next. So the heart of the matter is an instant of action moving us from what was to what is to what will be (or will be no more). Everything changes—whether we’re aware of it or not is beside the point.

      So it follows that awareness and action are two of the most essential assets in our toolbox. We move through moments either way, but what do we really see? What do we really influence? Putting aside all that is out of our control, it’s largely ours to see and be.

      Memory is our companion on our path to what’s next. We each remember moments from our journey to now as if they had just happened. If we’re blessed with a series of good decisions, many of those memories are pleasing to recall. But we also carry our mistakes with us, nagging us in quiet moments. Memory loves to play our greatest hits, but also our biggest mistakes. It’s all a part of us that brought us here.

      Dreams are lovely things indeed. We each imagine a future full of wonderful. There are no aches and pains and lingering sadness, only blissful discovery surrounded by loved ones. Watch a commercial for a luxury cruise line or Disney World and you’ll see some version of the dream. Marketing people know how to pull dollars out of imagination.

      We ought to remember that we have agency too. To realize an imagined future requires the use of those tools in our toolbox. To be aware of where we are and what we’re trending towards, and to take action to influence a more compelling future. To be aware of time passing by and the opportunity at hand before it slips away forever, joining those regrets in our memory bank. To have awareness without action is to concede our lives to fate. Decide what to be and go be it.

      Tempus fugit, friend. Can you believe another month is over? Don’t blink! Time moves at the blink of an eye, and the future is coming for us faster than we ever could believe. Our task is to become a brighter, healthier and more engaged-with-life time traveler. So grab that tiger by the tail and make it a heck of a ride. The first of that which comes is right here.

    • Opened at Last

      That day I saw beneath dark clouds
      the passing light over the water
      and I heard the voice of the world speak out,
      I knew then, as I had before
      life is no passing memory of what has been
      nor the remaining pages in a great book
      waiting to be read.

      It is the opening of eyes long closed.
      It is the vision of far off things
      seen for the silence they hold.
      It is the heart after years
      of secret conversing
      speaking out loud in the clear air.

      It is Moses in the desert
      fallen to his knees before the lit bush.
      It is the man throwing away his shoes
      as if to enter heaven
      and finding himself astonished,
      opened at last,
      fallen in love with solid ground.
      — David Whyte, The Opening of Eyes

      Lately I’ve been missing the owls. I walk at night with the dog, assessing the latest accumulation of snow and ice, and I wonder where the owls have gone. They haven’t gone anywhere, I know, for they’re non-migratory. And yet I don’t see them. I don’t hear them. They’re here, but invisible. A whisper in the dark, like so many hopes and dreams. No doubt they’re watching the pup and me, quietly assessing the seekers. We aren’t food or an existential threat, so why bother with us? The fascination is entirely one-sided. The thing is, one doesn’t walk around the neighborhood with a pair of binoculars and remain on good terms with the neighbors. They already think me a curiosity for all the walking the pup and I do. And so it goes that the owls remain hidden in plain sight.

      We move through life meaning well, but easily distracted by the immediate concerns of the day. We all have our owls that whisper to us, waiting to be found. But how hard are we really looking for them? What seismic shift needs to happen? What triggers action towards our grandest plans? After years of conversing, when do we finally hear those whispers loud and clear?

      The answer is sometimes a jolt to the routine. Glancing up at just the right place to catch an owl staring back at us, or stumbling into the right job. But usually it’s being present with the blank page writing, deleting and writing again until just the right words come to us. Whatever that version of writing is to each of us, the ritual of staying with it until we find it is the same. Serendipity aside, we don’t find what we’re looking for if we aren’t out in the proverbial woods with our nose up and our eyes open. Discovery is nothing but being out there in it, today and every day, aware that we may just find possibility yet.

    • The Answers Awaiting Attention

      “When a problem is disturbing you, don’t ask, “What should I do about it?” Ask, “What part of me is being disturbed by this?”
      ― Michael A. Singer, The Untethered Soul: The Journey Beyond Yourself

      If learning is a lifetime journey to understanding, we ought to make our quest more efficient by learning to ask better questions. Sure, there are no wrong questions, but there are questions that draw our focus down the wrong path. We won’t know we’re on the wrong path because we grow excited about finding the answer, not realizing until we’re far off the scent that we were barking up the wrong tree all along.

      That old trick to understanding deployed by young children—asking “Why?” until the adult in the room becomes exhausted, is perhaps the best tool that we have to knowing. And yet we put that tool back in the toolbox because we either don’t want to feel the rising frustration around us or we simply don’t want to know enough to continue chasing answers. Forever asking “Why?” may bludgeon out answers, but it isn’t as efficient as beginning with a better question.

      Knowing is arriving someplace, and it usually just leads to more questions about something encountered there. In this way, questions become infinite. Who has that kind of time to be so inquisitive? And yet we spend a lifetime barking up all sorts of wrong trees, instead of finding the scent again and proceeding accordingly. So many reach the end having missed the point all along.

      Learning to reframe the question is a good way to reset the mind. To question the very question is one way to reach a higher level of awareness. It’s not just asking, “Which tree should we bark up?”, but “Why are we barking in the first place?” A busy mind doesn’t ask enough questions, or is poised enough to ask the right questions. So what are we chasing anyway? There’s clarity in stillness, if we stop barking long enough to have a whiff of the truth. Awareness drifts, awaiting our attention.

    • Acutely Aware

      “Remember, remember,
      this is now,
      and now,
      and now.
      Live it, feel it, cling to it.
      I want to become
      acutely aware
      of all I’ve taken
      for granted.”
      ― Sylvia Plath

      The urgency of now is amplified by the awareness of time going by. We ought to do the things we believe we ought to do now, while time is ripe and dreams are unfaded by the rapid flow of the days to follow. Tempus fugit, friend: Time flies.

      Plath died young, taking her own life after putting her children to bed. Knowing that, read the poem again and feel how it changes. There is more desperation, more immediacy to the words when life hangs in the balance. A few more minutes, a few more years—it’s all the same. Memento mori.

      Now that we’ve got that out of the way, we ought to go out and live with this bonus time we’ve been given. Seneca reminded us to seize what flees. Carpe diem. Why would we dare to waste our time so carelessly? Accept the fragility of the moment and do something with it.

      A cold water plunge shocks the body into immediacy (I wonder sometimes why nobody follows me in). The body is jolted into sudden awareness of the moment. There is no distraction in cold water, it’s sink or swim. So what will do for your soul? But enough of intellectual discourse; what will jolt us into awareness that this is it? That there is only now? Live it, feel it, cling to it.

    • Aware and Alive

      “There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle.” ― Albert Einstein

      Saying yes to more things is the opposite of a focused life. A focused life requires focus on one thing at the expense of all other things. That one thing may lead to mastery. Those many things may lead to diverse perspective and the ability to manage complexity, which in turn enables us to navigate a life full of its inevitable twists and turns. Which is a better way to live a full life?

      The answer is naturally ours to know. I believe it’s to work towards mastery in something, while striving to experience as much as possible each day. Awareness and an inclination to take the plunge into the next potential miracle are our ticket to the promise of the coming day.

      I’m no Jeremiah, saying a phrase like that. Miracles are ours to realize in how we live our lives each day. Our life may be modest or bold—each brings its own opportunity to encounter that which is beyond us. Are we aware of all that moves around us? It’s all a miracle, and so too are we. Our interaction with the world is ours alone, and never to be repeated in this dance with infinity.

      The question remains: What will we do with this miracle?

    • Applied Exuberance

      “He who desires, but acts not, breeds pestilence.” — William Blake, The Marriage of Heaven and Hell

      “Exuberance is Beauty.” — William Blake, The Marriage of Heaven and Hell

      I write for creative expression (no shocker there), and also for the realization of a desire to write. To honor Mr. Harding’s proclamation in front of the entire class that I would be a writer one day while reacting to a bit of prose about balloons I’d handed in for an assignment in class. I don’t remember the names of most of my teachers in my K-12 education, but I will always remember Mr. Harding. Years have flown by since that slightly embarrassing, highly thrilling moment. I believe Mr. Harding would be pleased with my development as a human, but he’d likely wonder when I was going to finish the hero’s journey he set me out on that day long ago.

      Journeys happen at their own pace. I’m a late bloomer and an early riser. That means I always feel two steps behind and eager to get a good start to the day to try to catch up to where I perceive the rest of the world already is. Looking around, I know this is largely an illusion, but it’s a useful story to tell myself anyway. I’m farther along in my development than I otherwise would be. Still, there’s so much more to do.

      There’s a trendy movement on social media called “5 to 9 before 9 to 5“ that must be popular for me to have heard about it at all (so intently do I follow trends on social media). It’s simply a clever phrase for what many of us have been doing for years: lean into meaningful productivity early in the day, before the world wakes up and drags us into its agenda. Create, exercise, read, meditate, pray… whatever wins the early hours helps us win the day. The early bird gets the worm. Nothing new here, just great marketing of a great concept I happen to subscribe to. Tempus fugit. Carpe diem.

      The thing is, our days get away from us pretty quickly. The modern world wants us outraged, medicated, subscribed to multiple streaming services and dutifully paying our taxes. We must wrestle back our time if we wish to accomplish anything we truly desire. If we dare to strive for personal excellence (Arete), we must act, and carve out time for ourselves to do it. Exuberance, like excellence, isn’t reached by going through the motions. So we must apply ourselves to the task. Hurry now: for our time is flying by.

    • Things We’ll Remember

      These are the days you might fill with laughter until you break
      These days you might feel a shaft of light
      Make its way across your face
      And when you do you’ll know how it was meant to be
      See the signs and know their meaning
      It’s true
      You’ll know how it was meant to be
      Hear the signs and know they’re speaking to you, to you
      — 10,000 Maniacs, These Are Days

      Life seems far bigger and more monumental in some phases than in others. This applies equally to joyous moments and to the occasionally devastating. We might move through months without much of note happening save the change of the seasons, and then everything seems to happen at once. Things we’ll remember for the rest of our lives happen in clusters, and then suddenly everything grows quiet again for a short time. Life is full of ebbs and flows, and sometimes the wind blows just enough to compress everything into a mad jumble. We ought to remember in such moments that we don’t get rainbows without a little rain.

      Awareness is seeing the signs all around us and embracing life as it comes to us. This may be a joyful exercise or cynical, but our experience is usually a direct reflection of what we are projecting to the universe. We all know people who light up a room when they walk into it, and people who similarly bring a room down. Which do we want to be?

    • True Before You

      I want to unfold.
      Nowhere I wish to stay crooked, bent;
      for there I would be dishonest, untrue.
      I want my conscience to be
      true before you;
      want to describe myself like a picture I observed
      for a long time, one close up,
      like a new word I learned and embraced,
      like the everday jug,
      like my mother’s face,
      like a ship that carried me along
      through the deadliest storm.
      — Rainer Maria Rilke, I Am Much Too Alone in This World, Yet Not Alone

      One need not be religious to reach for the divine. We may aspire for a level of consciousness and growth that prods us along on our journey through life, reaching ever-higher towards something more than this. Arete, or personal excellence, is a human aspiration for the divine, for which we know we’ll fall short. But reaching for it is the thing.

      We have this one shot at things. We’re told that if we do it right once is enough. It’s the doing it right part that’s the trick. What’s right for you may not be right for me. Life is a deadly storm with no survivors. To know this and still set the sails for a journey of a lifetime is audacious and liberating. Decide what to be and go be it.

      Truth is discovered through awareness and a ritual of keeping the blinders off. It’s cleaning the hazy film off the mirror and having a closer look. Truth is something that unfolds before us. We write it down, think it through, move towards something more visceral. Repeat. That’s where this writer has lingered lately (as if you had to be told). With every blank screen, with every word pondered and debated (Is this too much truth?) Just where are we taking this? How close to the truth do we dare to go anyway?

      If that sounds too serious and self-absorbed, well, believe me, I think so too. Blogging is simply the laying of breadcrumbs along this path of discovery. We’re on our way to find out. Have a laugh at the imperfections even as we strive for some measure of improvement. We’re all doing the best we can given the spoiler of how it all ends. That, friends, is the truth.

    • Kairos and Our Moment of Moments

      Kairos [kahy-rahs, -rohs]
      noun
      a time that is particularly crucial or suited for carrying out an action.

      We modern types with our schedules and time commitments tend to live in chronological order. Chronos, the embodiment of time, is sequential. But we know that some time is far more important in our lives than other times are. These are ripe moments of potential and meaning that stand out from all the rest. And this is where Kairos comes in.

      This is the time is a feeling. We know it when we reach it. And we ignore it at our peril, for such moments are fleeting. Like the muse for artists and writers, kairos isn’t hanging around until we finish watching that cat video. We must seize what flees or watch time—and our moment with it—slip away.

      Carpe diem, friend. Seize the day. And more, learn to recognize the moment of moments when we must launch ourselves into action. We must live in a state of heightened awareness, that we sense where we are on our journey through time, and have the audacity to take action when it’s demanded of us. To do otherwise is simply to kill time. Where is the joy on a trail of dead hours?

      We are conditioned to treat time as an orderly sequence of seconds to minutes to hours to days. We can train ourselves to leap into action at a moments notice. This isn’t spontaneous as much as a bias towards action when called upon in the moment. If not now, then when? Be bold.