Alexandersmap

    Tag: Carpe Diem

    • Attention is Vitality

      “Do stuff. be clenched, curious. Not waiting for inspiration’s shove or society’s kiss on your forehead. Pay attention. It’s all about paying attention. attention is vitality. It connects you with others. It makes you eager. stay eager.” ― Susan Sontag

      Many things compete for our attention. The pup wants very much for me to pay full attention to playing frisbee with her for the entire morning. There’s a part of me that would rather do that than shift attention to other work. But there are things we must do in our lives that call to us. What we pay attention to determines where we go after all.

      Perhaps I love my return to cycling because of the state change it brought to me, or perhaps it’s because I’m very focused on the act of staying upright and making miles when I’m doing it. There’s no texting or doom scrolling on my part, and hopefully not on the part of the drivers nearby. There’s just full attention to the joyful act of flying inches over the pavement, with the occasional hill to punch up the heart rate.

      During this morning’s frisbee session I listened to the world around me. The sound of a horse whinnying at the farm beyond the woods, a crow having a conversation with another crow that preferred silence (thank you very much!), the hum of distant morning drivers on country roads, the sun shining brightly upon grateful oak leaves, the still wet footprints from an early morning plunge in the pool, a bit of coolness in the air. Paying attention offers a wealth of information from which to become engaged with the universe. Alternatively, we may focus our rapt attention on one thing until it’s done. I’m particularly good at the former, and force myself towards the latter. Some tasks are easier than others.

      There’s just so much to pay attention to in this world, screaming as it is for ours. The trick is to filter it all out and listen to the call of the wild within us. What excites us? Why aren’t we doing more of that to see where it leads us? Life is a meandering path of engagement and diversion with an undefined destination set against a clock ticking relentlessly in the background, reminding us that we’re running out of time. Do stuff! While we still have the currency of attention, health and vitality to stuff those minutes full of experience.

    • A Unique Wonder

      I read somewhere that meteor showers
      are almost alwavs named after the constellation from which
      they originate. It’s funny, I think, how even the universe is telling us
      that we can never get too far
      from the place that created us.
      How there is always a streak of our past
      trailing closely behind us
      like a smattering of obstinate memories. Even when we enter a new atmosphere,
      become subsumed in flames, turn to dust, lose ourselves in the wind, and scatter
      the surface of all that rest beneath us, we bring a part of where we are from
      to every place we go.
      — Clint Smith, Meteor Shower

      Walking the pup the other night, I saw a shooting star far brighter and more colorful than the norm, with a very definite tail and distinct blues, greens and yellows in the burn. I thought for a moment that it might have been a stray firework but for the direction it was falling and the distinct shooting star vibe. Was it an elusive fireball or simply a particularly passionate meteor? I think the latter, but it was the brightest and most colorful I’d ever seen. This particular shooting star apparently contained enough copper, magnesium and iron to treat me to that display of blue, green and yellow I’d witnessed. Throw enough science at anything and the magic evaporates. Let’s just call it a unique wonder in a sky full of beautiful.

      I don’t write about the stars so much nowadays, but I still look up most every night and marvel at the universe. If we are indeed stardust then we are staring at our distant cousins out there. Some of us dwell on where we came from, some chalk it up to a Creator and dismiss any talk of science as sacrilege. None of us is really in the know on such things, and the people who shout the loudest are usually the ones who know the least. We all crave answers, don’t we? It’s just that some settle on the answer someone else tells them is true instead of remaining open to other possibilities. Where we come from, if we go back far enough, is infinity. We’ll return there someday soon. What we choose to call that infinity is up for discussion.

      The thing is, we all accept some version of where we came from, it’s where we’re going that we can’t quite understand. We are all shooting stars streaking across the sky to our final days, memento mori and all that. But we may add enough color to our lives to make our journey wonderful, and perhaps inspire others on their own journey too. In our dance with infinity, this brief time is unique to us. Shouldn’t we aspire to as much as we may fit in along the way?

    • Getting Past Wobbly

      “You can, you should, and if you’re brave enough to start, you will.” — Stephen King, On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft

      The thing about cycling (or anything, really) is that anyone can do it, but to get really good at it you’ve got to do it a lot. Do the 10,000 hours of paying your dues in sweat equity and your conditioning is sound, your creative use of gears makes hill climbs easier, and you stop thinking about the cars zipping past you at high speeds inches from your left shoulder (or you find better routes). In short, you learn the tricks of the trade and gain some muscle memory for having done the work. But there’s no getting around that wobbly start.

      The thing about writing every day is that you gain that same muscle memory, expressed through paragraphs of prose you didn’t know were in your head when you started. Is a blog enough when you look back on the content created? We know the answer when we begin to ask the question—there’s more to do for us. It’s not just this, friend, whatever our this may be. We should get to it already. It’s those wobbly starts that scare us. How can we possibly make it up that hill if we’re so wobbly on the flat? How can we finish a novel when we barely have time to finish a blog?

      The hill will be there when it’s time to climb the hill. For now just start peddling and gaining momentum and see where life can bring us. Starting is enough in the beginning, pretty soon we’re surprising ourselves with things like average speed and elevation gain in cycling, or word count, better phrasing and such in writing. We aspire to climb to greater heights in the things we wish to be great at and find joy in the process, that we may begin again tomorrow with even loftier goals.

      The trick is to get out of our own head and start. We really should. Who cares if we’re a bit wobbly in the beginning anyway? Soon we’ll find some momentum. The fact that we’re thinking about climbing that hill means we’re ready to attempt it. When we really think about it, the only thing wobbly is the excuse for not starting now. So what is your hill and what are you waiting for?

    • Let Us Be Bold Today

      “I think that all human systems require continuous renewal. They rigidify. They get stuff in the joints. They forget what they cared about. The forces against it are nostalgia and the enormous appeal of having things the way they always have been, appeals to a supposedly happy past. But we’ve got to move on.” — John W. Gardner

      Rigidify isn’t a word I use frequently, but isn’t it perfectly opposite of embracing change and the growth that comes with it? We’re all changing every day, we just don’t see the changes until we’ve looked back with some perspective. Sure, there are abrupt changes that turn us upside down now and then in a lifetime, but for the most part we must be the invoker of state change in our lives.

      The problem is that everything grows so damned comfortable. We’re less inclined to change dramatically, preferring the incremental changes we can absorb with careful consideration. That’s why we stay where we are, doing what we’ve been doing, with the people we’ve always done them with, until the end… Rigidified. Let that <yawn> not be us.

      We get caught up in big picture stuff too often, and forget the small act we can make in the moment that will change everything given enough momentum. There’s a feeling of hopelessness in people paralyzed by all the things in their life that get in the way of the leap into new. Change feels too big. Maybe start with how we spend the next hour instead. What is the most dynamic, energizing, empowering thing we can do right now that is within our control? Do some version of that. Shake off the cobwebs and leap! At least try a little hop?

      “You’re not dying. You just can’t think of anything good to do.” — Ferris Bueller to Cameron, Ferris Bueller’s Day Off

      We all need that Ferris Bueller character in our lives to call us out for getting too comfortable in our own current state. If good is truly the enemy of great, then good enough in this moment is keeping us from something far better. We ought to be more creative with our hours. This current one is slipping away quickly. So consider this a Bueller callout and shake off the cobwebs. Let us be bold today.

    • Savor the Circle

      “Do silly things. Foolishness is a great deal more vital and healthy than our straining and striving after a meaningful life.” ― Anton Chekhov, The Portable Chekhov

      I hit the 20 mile mark yesterday in combined mileage between cycling and walking. This may not seem all that impressive, but it was a busy and hot day and that milestone was very much in doubt for much of the day. I finished just after 10 PM, when I’m usually in bed reading. To celebrate I took a late night solo swim—just me and the stars and satellites in a dark pool of water on the edge of the woods. And I felt completely alive and present floating there.

      The older I get the less I seek meaning in everything I do. I’m simply enjoying it all. Washing dishes never felt so fulfilling. Dead-heading the flowers is meditative. Cleaning up after the pets? Not so delightful, but not something I avoid or resent as I’m doing it. It’s just part of the deal. Life is a series of chores and commitments we make to each other before we carve out a bit of time for ourselves to savor the circle we’ve surrounded ourselves with.

      The scale is telling me that I’m roughly the same character I was a month ago, but what does a scale know? I’m more fit, more active, seeing more and feeling the momentum of consistency. We know when we’re fully alive and when we’re fooling ourselves. Activity pays dividends beyond numbers on a scale.

      These are days we’ll remember. At least they will be if we place ourselves squarely in the moment and fill each with things that make us feel vital and healthy. As we move into the height of summer, what will we take from this time? The satisfying snip of a spent bloom? The smell of tomato vines and twine? Light shining in north-facing windows that rarely catch such beams but for the longest days of the year? Or bubbles running up your back as you rise to meet the July sky? The answer is to delight in it all.

    • Pressing the Essence

      “I would like to do whatever it is that presses the essence from the hour.” — Mary Oliver, Pen and Paper and a Breath of Air

      Grabbing the moment was the goal well before this blog began, but the writing emphatically reminds me to seize the bloody day already. Some hours are seized, others are burned frivolously and quickly forgotten like all the rest of our lost time. We ought to remind ourselves to look for the essence in every hour and give it our full attention before it slips away to the infinite.

      Paying attention helps. What are we experiencing right now? Where will it lead us next? How can we put an exclamation point on this moment? This level of curiosity and focus wrings joie de vivre out of ordinary. Whoever we will become surely begins right here and now, wherever we find ourselves. We may write a hell of a story launched from this hour or give it to the average like all the rest, the choice is ours. It always begins with where we focus our attention.

      Perhaps that’s my why for this blog. The thing that keeps it going instead of all the other things I might do instead of this with this particular hour. Then again, maybe there’s something more hiding just below the surface in this hour that is even more essential for you and I to discover. We won’t know if we don’t seek it out.

    • To Live Is to Fly

      To live is to fly low and high
      so shake the dust off of your wings
      and the sleep out of your eyes
      — Cowboy Junkies, To Live Is to Fly

      I think that maybe stagnation is our greatest adversary. It kills any momentum in our lives and hastens our demise. We must move while we can. Stillness will claim us one day soon, but not just yet.

      Yes, I think that movement is the key. We must keep moving to fully live. Even trees, forever rooted to place, are constantly reaching up and outward to embrace the light, and dance in the breeze together. So it is with us, even when rooted, we must keep moving.

      Yesterday I rolled out the bicycle for a long ride along a rail trail. Cycling is the low form of flying, but a delightful way to traverse time and place. I wondered, why don’t I ride more often? No answer was apparent, just a resolution to take flight again soon. Life is a series of self-discoveries with the occasional memory jog reminding us that there are moments from our past worthy of a moment of reacquaintance. A bicycle deserves a better fate than to hang forever in a garage gathering dust. So too do we.

      What else is gathering dust, awaiting our return? Hiking boots? Books? Passports? First drafts? What might we put into motion again, that it may take off full of life? We must shake the dust off and flap these wings. To live is to fly, low and high.

    • Green Grass and Long Conversation

      There’s an old response to the expression “the grass is greener on the other side” that points out that “the grass is greener where you water it.” Being a collector of quotes and poetry, the expression seems to pop in my feed now and then. Today was one of those days, and just before I started to write this blog post. Apparently the student was ready to see it again.

      I begin most summer mornings with a plunge into the pool and a cup of coffee in an Adirondack chair. I know this is a luxury of circumstance and celebrate it for the blessing it is. But I also know that a lot of watering went into this particular grass. To be born at the right time and place is a gift, to use that time and place in such a way that your life is incrementally better each year is a plan well-executed, with a nod to luck and fate for the blessing they’ve bestowed. But it’s simply my moment with these things, nothing more. We must remember that for all it represents.

      Yesterday I took a long walk with my bride and our pup through old neighborhoods she grew up in. The entire four miles was a walking conversation about what was, what is, and what will be. This year marks three decades of such conversations, and we’ve noted the changes in ourselves as much as the people and things around us. Life is change and a bit of selective watering, that we may enjoy our moment in the sun a little more before it’s time to concede it to the next. Memento mori and carpe diem, friends.

      Sitting in that chair, the air a bit cool, I watched the steam drift out of the mug and drift up into the morning sunbeam over my shoulder. The water vapors caught the sunbeam just right and sparkled like fireworks before drifting away to infinity. The days are already getting shorter even as the peak of summer is ahead of us. We may know the fragility of the moment and still look ahead with anticipation. A beautiful life is built on the things that are most fragile, like time and seasons and the people who grace us with this dance.

    • The Making of It

      “The place where you belong will not exist until you create it.” — James Baldwin

      There are days when we forget that we are the actors in our own play. It feels sometimes like the world is imposing itself on us (surely it will), yet we still have a verse. We see that those who boldly push their own will on the world often find themselves further along than those who accept the impositions. The lesson for us is to know where we want to go and keep working to get there, because we’re all going somewhere anyway and we might as well make it the place we want to be.

      So it is that lately I’ve been imagining what’s next. Write the book? Buy the boat? Build the house? Or maybe forget all that and immerse myself in a Caldeirada in some sleepy seaside town in Portugal. We can’t have it all, but we may determine some small part of our future with a steady accent to that summit in our dreams. Indeed, life is what we make of it.

      To see the truth in Baldwin’s statement, we only need to look around at our present state and follow the breadcrumbs from who we once were to this place we are now. We may blame fate or the will of some higher power for dropping us where we are now, with the circle of people influencing every aspect of our lives, but deep down we know we brought ourselves here too. That’s either cause for celebration or a catalyst for massive change, but our role in our current situation is undeniable. So why not look ahead to what’s next and create the future version of us? It’s coming either way.

    • Coloring Beyond

      “Live life to the fullest. You have to color outside the lines once in a while if you want to make your life a masterpiece. Laugh some every day, keep growing, keep dreaming, keep following your heart. The important thing is not to stop questioning.” — Albert Einstein

      I’m usually suspicious of quotes attributed to famous people but can’t find anything that contradicts the source, so thanks for the advice, uh, Albert. He seemed like the kind of guy who might have actually said it anyway. But I digress…

      I was always a meticulous “color within the lines” kind of wanna-be artist. The lines were there for a reason, weren’t they? Don’t stray beyond, I’d tell myself. It wasn’t until I was older that I started figuring out that the lines were just someone else’s interpretation of where they should be. And I started straying beyond and finding out that that’s where the magic is. So I’d stray a bit farther still.

      When you color outside the lines you begin to notice the other people who color beyond the lines. There’s a whole community of outside the lines people fully enjoying their lives while the inside the lines people grind through their days. Coloring beyond is invigorating and a bit audacious. Following other people’s rules is constricting and subservient. Who do we really want to be, ourselves or someone else’s version of who we ought to be?

      Monday mornings feel a bit different when you stray outside the lines. At the moment, I’m thinking I ought to stray a bit further to see just how audacious I can be today. We can’t make our own masterpiece following someone else’s plan, can we? Carpe diem, friend.