Alexandersmap

    Tag: Carpe Diem

    • A Wee Bit Louder

      “If you ask me what I came into this life to do, I will tell you: I came to live out loud.” — Émile Zola

      Many of us consider before we act, look before we leap, weigh risks and assess odds and all sorts of things that keep us out of trouble, but also keep us from doing the stuff of life. Be bold, I say, but don’t be reckless. That caveat makes all the difference between a life lived out loud and a quietly stable life that’s good enough to pass the deathbed test.

      We all want to sing that old Sinatra song out loud, shouting we did it our way, with too few regrets to mention, but most of us will keep a mental ledger of the things we didn’t do anyway. We believe that it’s the things we do that get us into trouble and opt for the safer regret of not having leapt into the stormy sea. Consider it a moral victory? Sure, if it helps. We may be present in the commitments we’ve made in our lives while still living as an example of how much more living one might do if we’d just turn up the volume.

      I used to write about places I wanted to go in my lifetime, only to see people in my life go to those places while I stayed behind. I found myself chagrined by others doing the thing I’d wanted to do, someday. Was the chagrin aimed at them or myself? We all know that comparison is a fool’s game and a joy killer. It’s on us to make bold plans and to act upon them. Part of growing wiser (if not yet wise) is learning to stop talking about what we’re going to do and just go do it. That, friend, makes us more interesting to others, but especially to ourselves.

      What did you do today?” is a far better question to answer than “What are you going to do today?” So I won’t tell you where I’m going next, what my plans are for the future, or even what I’m going to do today; but I may just write about it afterwards. Or simply use the time to move on to the next thing beyond the limit of what was once considered a stretch. To live a wee bit louder is the aim; may my aim be true.

    • Taut Boldness

      “I don’t care about spending much time with people who haven’t a definite personality. I am that kind of an equalitarian. I like to mix with my equals, people who have as much personality as I have… but the great thing is taut boldness… People… will tell you that freedom lies in being cautious… Freedom lies in being bold.” — Robert Frost

      Robert Frost’s take on boldness is surprising if we think of productive poets as disciplined, but less so if we think of them as audacious. Don’t we have to be a little audacious to publish our work expecting the world to take notice? I think this is especially true of poets. What fascinates me is the company he kept. To be at that table with those bold characters, talking of bigger things than the average. Am I so bold as to believe I could hold my own?

      I’ve long believed that boldness offers opportunities seldom available with timidity. Maybe mothers don’t like to hear bold talk, but free spirits are stirred by it. For all the structured discipline in my life, there’s still a wild child hiding within. Now and then he sees the light of day.

      The world is full of exceptional people, each bold in their own way to reach the higher stratosphere in which they fly. Each day builds or erodes personal excellence. Boldness plays as much a role as grit or resolve do. We choose who we will become, how high we might fly, and yes, the company we will ultimately keep.

    • Declaration

      My declaration
      will be
      absolute.

      An arrival
      in the here
      and the now.

      Then
      there will
      be little else to do.

      I will have become like
      the madman running
      to see the moon
      in the window,
      the hawk
      I saw tracing the cliff edge
      above the river.

      I will be the man
      I have pursued all along
      and finally caught.
      — David Whyte, Mortality My Mistress

      Declarations are nothing without action executed to conclusion. We must learn to keep our promises to ourselves and others, and to back up our words with results. We are where we are because of our actions, not because of some declaration.

      There is a growing awareness that may reveal itself through the accumulation of years. We grow wealthy given time and compounding interest. Call it wisdom or call it experience, it’s collected through deliberate action and an inclination to be present with life as it unfolds before us.

      Not all who grow old grow wise, any more than gathering years mean that we have gathered experience. Gathering is itself a deliberate act.

      Not all who age grow old. Youthful vigor is derived from receptivity multiplied by energy. We are as alive as we allow ourselves to be, no matter our age.

      If an arrival infers place, a declaration suggests direction towards something more. We may savor place while aspiring for more. At least that’s the mindset I have as I arrive at this place with an eye towards the next. Today, we are as fit and wise and wealthy as yesterday has made us. This is nothing but currency to spend as an investment in the present and future person we wish to be.

    • Enjoy Yourself

      Enjoy yourself, it’s later than you think
      Enjoy yourself, while you’re still in the pink
      The years go by, as quickly as you wink
      Enjoy yourself, enjoy yourself, it’s later than you think
      — The Specials, Enjoy Yourself

      Thanks Ted Lasso, for reminding me of this old gem. Joyful noise is my kind of music. I collect it, play it louder than I ought to, dance to it until the knee and ankle remind me that it’s later than I think.

      It’s all going so very quickly, isn’t it? Tempus fugit. Might as well enjoy the ride while it lasts. Sure, the world is a hot mess, the fools will always be foolish, the planet is ready to shrug humanity off for good, but all of that aside, this is the one go at things that we’ll ever have. And sure, the years go fly by. So get up, get out, and dance already.

    • Once Devoted

      “So, preferring death to capture, I accomplished the most astonishing of deeds, and which, more than once, showed me that the too great care we take of our bodies is the only obstacle to the success of those projects which require rapid decision and vigorous and determined execution. In reality, when you have once devoted your life, you are no longer the equal of other men, or rather other men are no longer your equals; and whosoever has taken this resolution feels his strength and resources doubled.” — Alexander Dumas, The Count of Monte Cristo

      As I march through a thousand pages of The Count of Monte Cristo, I wonder why I used this book for years as nothing more than a way to lift my laptop up a couple of inches for a better Teams shot. I know the answer already; I simply wasn’t ready to read it then. Now I am and I use the time to devour it. In reading, I mine golden nuggets like the quote above, to ponder and write about.

      Most of us barely scratch the surface of our potential, but the truly great among us reach levels hardly imagined by the average. And thank goodness for that! Who are the average to determine the heights to which the great may reach? Do we wonder at such things as personal excellence nearly enough, or are we content to just be what we’ve always been? Just who are we to wallow in average when arete whispers to us, “Just ahead, if you’ll only keep going beyond this present level.”

      Perhaps we may agree that purposeful action elevates us beyond the norm. We may disagree on whether we ought to be chasing such dreams, when things are comfortable enough as they are. It’s okay to be average, it’s okay to settle; it’s just not excellence. The point is, there’s still time to exceed our expectations of ourselves. At least for now. There’s still time to do and dare, but dare not wait a moment longer.

    • October Initium

      My life a spreading ring
      of quiet, like the trout’s brief
      in-breath
      at the surface of a river,
      like the slow
      outward movement of a raindrop
      spreading on a still lake.
      — David Whyte, Death Waits

      Initium is the Latin word from which initiate is derived. It simply means a beginning. Today is the first day of October, which seems an appropriate day to begin something beyond a new month. We don’t have to wait for New Year’s Day for such things as life change, we simply need to decide to begin.

      What is a great life but the steady expansion of personal experience? We are collectors of days, filled with that which enriches us. To leave a day empty feels wasteful. Do something with the gift, or squander it. We rise each day facing the same choice.

      Initiative is only the beginning. We must act upon it. On this first day of October, seize what flees. Carpe diem.

    • Be Inclined

      Had I known that the first was the last
      I should have kept it longer.
      Had I known that the last was the first
      I should have drunk it stronger.
      Cup, it was your fault,
      Lip was not the liar.
      No, lip, it was yours,
      Bliss was most to blame.
      — Emily Dickinson

      Time is quickly devoured, but too seldom savored. Opportunities are sometimes seized, often missed. That’s life; figured out as it’s stumbled upon, scorned when reflected on. Don’t beat yourself up friend, for all of us are figuring it out and being our own worst critic. That’s life amongst we humans.

      Opportunity knocks, daily. We are what we repeatedly do (excellence being a habit). To be better, we ought to work on our inclinations. Be inclined to seize more moments, be inclined to say yes to bold and courageous, even in the face of pragmatism and logic and the biggest enemy of audacity, comfort.

      Fear wears many cloaks. Regrets feed on timidity and indecision. Don’t play tomorrow’s blame game: Be inclined to be bold today.

    • With Urgency and Focus

      “Do that thing that honors life.” — John Kenney, I See You’ve Called in Dead

      I’ve written about this before, but it bears repeating. I have people in my life who question me for writing about death. I remind them that Memento mori is not a morbid fixation, it’s a call to action. We must acknowledge our ending in order to begin living fully, with urgency and focus.

      John Kenney’s book is delightfully funny with an underlying sadness that washes over you in alternating waves. It’s a lot like life in this way. We fully savor joie de vivre precisely because we experience darker moments in our lives. How can we know the good if we never experience the bad?

      If I repeat myself, it’s simply a reminder to do more of the things that honor life. We are each blessed to be alive for this brief window of time. Optimizing that which makes us most alive seems prudent given the certainty of our eventual expiration. Dance with life, even as we accept the reality that the music will end.

    • Scratch the Little Itch

      Honey, it’s no secret that with matters of the heart
      Unreserved, I’m irrational and rarely ever start
      But since the world’s dark and often inhumane
      Relish our condition, come drinking in the rain
      ‘Cause you remember when, after Paris
      We all decided the best way to fight it was
      Drink wine, dance here and pray
      And make love that lasts with a vengeance
      So you can join the cowards all aboard the outrage train
      You can stay afraid, or slit the throat of fear and be brave
      And scratch the little itch ’til you’re moving like a motherfucker
      Up in this bitch
      — Gang of Youths, Lay Me Down Easy

      Look, I’m not naive; I know the world is a hot mess with plenty of outrageous nonsense to keep us all on edge. We ought to fight for all that is good in this world, lest we let it slip away into oblivion disguised as a P&L statement. Screw the greedy bastards and all who enable them. But don’t get so swept up in the madness that you forget to live vigorously in the time you have.

      Don’t join those little cowards aboard the outrage train. Instead, find a better place to dance through life. We are the average of the five people we surround ourselves with the most, so just how outraged is that crowd we’re surrounded by anyway?

      Be bold today. For this is our one great chance to scratch that little itch. Aren’t we tired of more of the same old nonsense anyway? Go forth and conquer those fearful voices that whisper their timid nothings. Our time grows short. Shall we dance?

    • In Magnificent Glow

      “I would rather be ashes than dust! I would rather be a superb meteor, every atom of me in magnificent glow, than a sleepy and permanent planet.” — Jack London

      Happy Labor Day for those who observe it. We might use this occasion to confirm that the path we are on is a sound one. We might even dare for more in our lives than the answer to that very American question, “So what do you do?”

      I was challenged recently about purpose. Specifically, what will I do one day when I retire. If our careers are widely thought of as our purpose and identity, it follows that when we retire (or otherwise lose a job) both purpose and identity would take a massive hit.

      Perhaps. Then again, if your purpose and identity were never quite wrapped around some job or title, then maybe we will be just fine without some resume filler with dates attached. Maybe there’s far more to us than a string of career milestones.

      Do we aspire to be ground to dust in some job du jour, or follow passion to its logical end? I tell you, we must embrace the brevity of life! Not celebrate it, mind you, but know deep within that this is it, and we must then do with it all that we may in our brief dance. Memento mori…. So carpe diem the heck out of each day.